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1. At 31 weeks, I have no stretch marks at all on my (large, round, that's-no-moon) belly, but I got them *months* ago on my (somewhat larger, but not dramatically so) butt.
1A. I actually kind of like them. (Having figured out they're not some icky infectious rash.) I primarily use my butt for a) sitting and b) propelling myself forward via my legs and not c) modeling thongs or something, so I don't really have any sentimental-drivel notions about the silken skin of my back (::grin:: to all one of you who catches the reference), and a meteor shower of red streaks is kind of neat-looking. It's like a free, spontaneous, highly personalized tattoo. I sort of look forward to them showing up on my belly - I can think of much worse tattoos than big red jagged bad-ass lightning bolts. (Having said that I will now become the first woman in the history of pregnancy whose stretch marks look like hearts and flowers.)
2. Having to get up in the middle of the night is not a problem. In fact, getting up is great - a little stretching, a little peeing, gulp down a bunch of water to fight overnight dehydration, switch up which hip I'm lying on... *not* waking up during the night, however, means my morning starts with an achy hip and the sensation that I might burst like a water balloon before I make it out of bed. Failure to wake up in the middle of the night sucks.
3. The inside of my belly button is soft and endlessly fascinating. I'm never going to be able to use "navel-gazers" as a pejorative again.
4. I knew I was likely to have vivid, scary dreams, and I knew I was likely to be weepy, but I did not ever put this together into "a nightmare that makes you cry every time you think about it". I am actually kind of impressed by this dream for its grandiose scale and blatancy, so if you are curious it is ( behind this cut )
1A. I actually kind of like them. (Having figured out they're not some icky infectious rash.) I primarily use my butt for a) sitting and b) propelling myself forward via my legs and not c) modeling thongs or something, so I don't really have any sentimental-drivel notions about the silken skin of my back (::grin:: to all one of you who catches the reference), and a meteor shower of red streaks is kind of neat-looking. It's like a free, spontaneous, highly personalized tattoo. I sort of look forward to them showing up on my belly - I can think of much worse tattoos than big red jagged bad-ass lightning bolts. (Having said that I will now become the first woman in the history of pregnancy whose stretch marks look like hearts and flowers.)
2. Having to get up in the middle of the night is not a problem. In fact, getting up is great - a little stretching, a little peeing, gulp down a bunch of water to fight overnight dehydration, switch up which hip I'm lying on... *not* waking up during the night, however, means my morning starts with an achy hip and the sensation that I might burst like a water balloon before I make it out of bed. Failure to wake up in the middle of the night sucks.
3. The inside of my belly button is soft and endlessly fascinating. I'm never going to be able to use "navel-gazers" as a pejorative again.
4. I knew I was likely to have vivid, scary dreams, and I knew I was likely to be weepy, but I did not ever put this together into "a nightmare that makes you cry every time you think about it". I am actually kind of impressed by this dream for its grandiose scale and blatancy, so if you are curious it is ( behind this cut )
