This is what I see when I look down:
Yeah, I haven't seen my feet in quite some time. I'm not too concerned about that. I also can't see when I've leaned the underside of my blossoming belly into food on the counter or stovetop. That concerns me a little more than not seeing my feet; but, at this point, I must say I don't care too much if I'm the pregnant lady walking around with food stains on her belly. I mean, it's like a magnet for food. Couple that with pregnant clumsiness, and I'm pretty much a poster child for the need to tuck napkins into your shirt collar to eat.
What gets me, and I don't know if you can tell from the picture, is that my belly button isn't centered. I think Peanut likes to hang out on the right side of my body, because my navel is always shooting out to the left. I look down, and I wonder if it's as obvious from the front as it is from the top. And, it's like this with every pregnancy. And, I tend to be a bit OCD about centering. I'm one of those people that, if I touch something with my left hand, I have an overwhelming urge to touch it with my right hand as well so that I feel balanced. I'm not like Monk or Howie Mandel or anything, but I do have those little idiosyncracies that I like to think make me delightfully quirky. And, my bellybutton is already freakishly huge. Weird.
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