Belly Button Watch.

This has become something of a daily sport, watching to see when – at what precise moment – my belly button will stop being in “inny” and start being an “outy”. I won’t pretend that the idea doesn’t make me ever so slightly queasy, but the queasiness is greatly outweighed by the possible – INTENSE – pleasure I would gain from seeing, in action, my belly button suddenly pop out like one of those Turkey thermometers that ping when the bird is cooked. Oh my God, I can’t even explain to you how disappointed I would be if it happened at night, especially after all of these hours on (what I have started calling) Button Watch.

It can’t be long now; the button is completely flat. I’m seeing the depths of button that have never been seen before; it has little tiny bits on it like grains of sand, that I always assumed were grains of sand, forever stuck inside, but actually turn out to be skin. Or moles. I don’t even know what, I’m not dwelling on those insignificant points, because soon the Button will pop. I’m wondering whether it’ll be a quick, instant movement, or whether it will slowly kind of unfurl itself outwards, like a windsock being filled with a gentle breeze. Does anyone know? Has anyone actually witnessed a Button Pop?

Right, I’m sorry. I must go. Every second spent typing is a potential disaster, in terms of observation. There’s also something quite undignified about sitting here with my vest top rolled up; I may have to just cut a small hole in it at the appropriate area, kind of like a viewing window.

 * written at 21 weeks pregnant + 1 day

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