My husband has informed me I have stretch marks. I choose not to believe him, because I can't see them. Because I can't see approximately 50% of my stomach without doing some serious acrobatics in front of the mirror, which isn't happening folks. I'm currently using a metal folding chair in the shower to shave my legs. That's enough gymnastics for me.
I've also entered a new and exciting stage of pregnancy in which I do not wear pants. Ever. To be honest, I haven't worn pants (yes, including maternity jeans) for months now. I kept saying I was going to get myself a pair and hem them, but now that we're some 5-8 weeks out, I'm going to call my own bluff. It's maternity dresses from here on out. That and letting my belly hang out while wearing Rob's sweatpants.
I'm still trying to wrap my mind around having another baby in a month or so. It seems so unreal. Maybe when we install the little carseat or finally get down the newborn clothes (i.e. things we should probably do soonish) it'll start to sink in. But right now, it still feels like a dream.