Bad Butt Skin

I have been living in my apartment for 2 years now, without renter's insurance. I know, shame on me. I have been meaning to get it and looked into it several times, but never followed through with it. Well, maybe it's just that I've been watching the news more since I've been on leave, but I have been noticing quite a few apartment fires. Two of the ones I saw on the news were within a couple miles of my house, and I finally stopped procrastinating and bought a policy through Allstate. There is just no telling what can happen to your house especially living in an apartment complex. Two out of three of the fires I heard about were caused by unattended candle, one was caused by a cigarette, and one was caused by someone running from the police. You have no control over what your neighbors do and one stupid mistake on their part could cost you everything you own. I don't know about you, but I couldn't afford to replace everything I own. My policy is effective as of midnight tonight, so as long as my house doesn't burn down in the next 5 hours I'll be ok. Call me paranoid if you want, but I am also going to buy a fireproof/waterproof safe and do a backup of all of my digital pictures to put in it among other things. I think it will make me feel a little better about life in general to know I'm well insured.

I had my 39 week checkup today. Still at 3 cm and haven't had any significant sets of contractions since my trip to labor and delivery last week. The doctor says she thinks I will have this baby in the next couple days, but she was probably just trying to give me some hope because I looked so miserable. I wish I was as hopeful as she is. I'm exhausted and can't sleep at night, can't stay awake during the day, can't muster the energy to do anything, and am borderline depressed. One of two things needs to happen at this point, either I need to get a really good night's sleep or I need to pop this baby out. I just need some kind of resolution for my sanity.

I was getting in the shower day before yesterday and found big ol' stretch marks on my butt! I thought I had made it through this entire pregnancy without getting any stretch marks, and I guess I was counting my chickens before they hatched. All hell broke loose upon my discovery of the stretch marks. I was BAWLING. It wasn't so much the stretch marks, but a combination of things that caused me to build up a hunk of resentment toward my innocent husband. The stretch marks were just the straw that broke the camel's back. I couldn't understand why it is I have to sacrifice my body, sleep, energy, time, job, etc., and endure stomach acid, weight gain, stretch marks, diminishing self-image, etc., while Art didn't have to sacrifice anything! Then I found myself mad at the baby for not being born a week ago when I went to the hospital because then I would have never gotten these stretch marks! I just can't understand why I got them on my butt and not my stomach, when I know my stomach expanded much more than my butt did! The only explanation is that I was just not blessed with good butt skin, but now I am paranoid that my stomach skin will explode at any moment too which compounds my desire to pop this baby out before any more damage is done. I am now at 145 lbs. from 103 lbs. I realize that I am now barely registering in the normal rage on the BMI charts for my height, but I still feel like a fatty- or at the very least like I'm carrying around a 40 lb. backpack all day every day. Depends on my mood. Oh, the joys of the third trimester.