The horrification of my bellybutton and other mutations of pregnancy

I have watched the morphing of my once normal belly button with horror. First it got very, very deep, cause embarrassing black-hole-like depressions in all my shirts. Then it began to widen as my belly grew outward and more taut. As it widened, it got shallower. I know from peeking ahead in my pregnancy books that eventually it will flatten and then ultimately transform into an outie, signifying the end of pregnancy like a turkey timer. Since it was requested, here is a photo of my shameful belly button:



Sorry it's in low light, but you are dreaming if you think I'm going to expose the true horror with a camera flash.


So far, no stretchmarks (the thin red line you see on the right is an appendectomy scar) and I'm not sure if it's good genes as my mama claims or if it's that awful-smelling Palmer's I've been slathering on after every shower. I wish I knew because if it was good genes, I would toss that stuff and get some real, nice-smelling cocoa butter.

Speaking of showers and awful-smelling, I have a newfound appreciation for why dogs loathe baths so much. Super-pregnant nose detests shampoo and conditioner scents. I used to love my floral-scented shampoo and conditioner, but now I think the same stuff smells worse than skunk cabbage. My enthusiasm for Dr. Bronner's lavender-scented soap has likewise done a 180. I want that stuff banished from my household. What was once a light, subtle aroma now seems so strong, it literally makes me vomit every time I smell it.

I have vowed that if I ever have a dog of my own to wash (to be named The Feist), The Feist will not be subjected to scented doggie shampoos. And if, after a good lather and scrub, The Feist feels compelled to smash through a window to get outside and roll in something dead ASAP, I will try to be understanding. I will watch The Feist rolling back and forth over rotting, maggoty unrecognizable flesh, and I will remember the days when that was preferable to Dr. Bronner's lightly scented lavender soap. That is my solemn promise.