Skincare from the Farm to the Pram
They’re back. The stretch marks. That odd brown line with a name I can never remember – Linea Nigra (ok I may have googled it). And how can I not mention those bursts of red capillaries, which always make me think of tiny little fireworks announcing to the world I’m pregnant? All these memorable pregnancy marks, which serve to remind me that my skin has a life of its own thanks to an insane amount of hormonal changes and increased blood circulation. Of course this isn’t my first time hosting another human being. You’d think the second time around I’d welcome the marks like a badge of honor, or appreciate the random artistry behind their capillaries much like a Jackson Pollack. But I still don’t. In fact, similar to my first pregnancy, it was the first sign of chaos breaking out on my skin that reminded me it was high time to...
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