Aside from housing a baby, I've learned over my last three pregnancies that the large protruding belly does quite well in blocking out what you probably don't want to see, for fear of sending you into premature labor. That would include the large swollen feet, ashy dry knees, and the gigantic vagina.
So long little pink petunia. Hello pacific palm.
Since enduring my last brazilian wax all in the name of research that is, I've resorted to shaving - mostly for convenience, not necessarily because it hurt like a motherfucker. I tend to think the upper lip and eyebrows are more uncomfortable, except when you're exactly 36.2 weeks pregnant and you've got a baby resting on your pelvis and all your blood centered mostly around your pubis.
But truthfully, the jungle was scarily overgrown, and while I can't necessarily see it, it had become quite clear that it was there.
So against my own personal recommendation, I decided to get an extra thin bikini wax, performed by my lovely neighbor who does such things and other less painful spa treatments in the comfort of her basement. It's waaaaaaay less trashy than it sounds; in fact, she has an inflatable jumpy castle so you can basically bring your kids, get your hair ripped out, and then go on your merry way.
Now, since I hadn't endured the way in a long time, I didn't have the proper preparations in order, like the no bump lotion, alcohol, and living will, but I figured, it couldn't be that bad. Orgasmic bikini waxes, anyone? Maybe there's hope.
And really, it wasn't terrible, regardless of the whole strip vs. hot wax debate. In fact, aside from a few ass jumps off the table (which is pretty damn good considering I can barely lift my ass off the table voluntarily), I was perfectly fine until I actually agreed to look in the mirror.
Let's just say that a blind pilot could land on this strip.