All the books say that in the second trimester I can expect my complexion to get really good - no oiliness, no dryness, just good old clear glowing skin.
Well, I'm in my second trimester now, and I'm still waiting. I can see now that it's one of those promises which I could wait the rest of my life for, without ever coming true.
I'm still waiting for that feeling of self-assurance and confidence which was supposed to come when I hit thirty.
Hell, I'm still waiting for that teenage growth spurt which was supposed to save me from years of peeking through tall people's legs at outdoor concerts.
Not only is my face suffering from the ravages of last-minute acne and eczema flare-ups, but in the shower this morning I found a network of fine pink lines running across my abdomen. Not so much linea nigra (a dark line running down your torso) as multiple linea rosa. I think they might be stretch marks, dammit.