I am not my hair....or am I?

Apparently I should be growing thick, luxuriant hair on my head at this stage. Having gone through the ickiness of the first trimester I have been looking forward to glossy, shiny dreadlocks which would suddenly reach my bra line.

Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zero.

Why does my own journey always have to be different? I wondered.

Then today I noticed I had grown long, thick, glossy, black hair .... all over my legs! Argh! WTF?

I look like a tuber of yam. It is disgusting. I wouldn't even eat me if I were on display in a market stall. And truth be told, I can't be bothered to shave it all off or use a depilatory cream or anything, it is so tiring. Bending is agony and pulling up my legs to see them is much worse, so for now, the tubers are here to stay.

And they are joined by yam belly as my Linea Nigra - which by the way is not a straight line running down my belly like most women - is hairy. There is this one hair that I have plucked twice which keeps coming back. It feels like ogbo igwe, the metal wire wool sponge used to scour pots. I didn't pluck it neatly the last time. It broke off. Now I am being punished by having this ntutu, needle-like hair poking through the fabric of my clothes and pricking me mercilessly. As if I don't have enough troubles.

So to recap: Yam tuber legs, crooked line down my belly and ntutu, needle-like amosu (witch) hair under my belly button.

It's shaping up to be an interesting weekend. How's yours?