Friday, July 23, 2010


One thing I loved about maternity clothes in the beginning was that there weren’t too many of them in my closet. This meant that for every time I had to choose an outfit, I could pick from 2 pairs of pants, 2 pairs of shorts, and about 10 shirts. Easy peasy! Getting dressed had never been so stress-free. But now, my perspective is changing. It’s not that I’m dissatisfied with the amount of clothes I can currently wear. No, it’s not that at all.
I have found myself staring at women the past few days. No, I'm not considering a lifestyle change at this point (though, it's not altogether out of the question considering it was a man who did this to me). I look at women and reminisce about how fun it used to be to wear tops. I don’t wear tops now. I wear sheets of fabric. Nothing is fitted. Darts are no longer a possibility. I don’t even wear t-shirts well, as most of them are now too short (unless they’re maternity and have that ever-glamorous rouching down the sides). I miss going to Forever 21 or Target and just picking up a cute top. Even without trying it on I knew if a top would fit my body-type. And I’d flounce home and pop my brand new, usually sale item top into my closet and feel like I’d changed my whole wardrobe. I won’t even bore you with the sadness I have about my jeans. I actually had a dream about wearing my favorite pair again, which may never happen.
Now, I haven’t experienced the big feet thing. My feet have stayed pretty much the same size, which I hope means the shoe rack I just bought (because Abe cannot be born into a family where we store shoes on the floor) won’t need to be restocked. If my feet do happen to grow, I’ll accept this. Because it means it’s perfectly acceptable to buy all new shoes. Right?
No one can truly prepare you for how much your body is going to change when you get pregnant. My mother told me that I should be buying bigger underwear and I didn’t believe her until all my Victoria’s Secret undies started screaming for their very lives when I put them on. And for all the sundresses my friends assured me I could still wear while I was pregnant? Pah-lease. Some of those dresses would now be shorter than anything Britney Spears would dream of wearing. My belly uses up all the fabric in the front  that was once meant for modesty. And I don't suppose clothes are going to fit much better when my belly starts to go down but my boobs begin to resemble cantaloupes. What they should really tell preggos is pregnancy lasts 2 years. And then, you get your body back and wear cute tops and start thinking about having another one...this has all been such a trick.

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