Because I have neither hips nor ass, wearing below-the-belly pants isn't the best idea in the last trimester. It's like trying to put trousers on an ice cream cone.
Alas, my two favorite pairs of knocked-up wear sit low. The constant hitching is tolerable as long as I remember to pull on my pants instead of my drawers--self-inflicted wedgies are almost worse than the aided kind. Especially since I prefer what erudite folks term "ass floss."
Speaking of things below-the-belt, my bikini wax is scheduled for tomorrow morning. Aiiieee!