On Monday 9th February, I was seeing lines. This morning, as I got up for the seventeenth post-midnight wee and caught sight of my giant, low-slung bump in the bathroom mirror, I was seeing lines of a different sort.
Oh yes, after two pregnancies, more than 18 months of growing babies, in what will be my last week of child carrying I have finally succumbed to the dreaded stretch marks.
I've not been completely immune until now of course. My thighs bear the tell-tale silvery spider tracks of having once been a size 10. That was a long time ago though, as evidenced by the fact they've faded to almost nothing. The new lines on my tummy - which until now has been pillowy, white and clear - are angry, red and raw, showing that as I approach the end of my tether, my skin has reached the end of its too.
Come on now, one week late is just not cricket. BABY OUT!