Yesterday was a rough day for me. M took Ollie to the dog park and I ventured out to try and find some maternity bras and other clothing. This would be because my pants are tighter every day, and, let's be frank here, my boobs are out of control. I was starting to feel BIG, and that was freaking me out a little bit.
Then I made the mistake of going to JC Penney, which I knew from their website has maternity clothes. BIG MISTAKE. They're apparently remodeling the store near us, and all their maternity clothes were jammed into this one area, very small, everything very close together. Were I any more pregnant and any bigger, I probably would have gone completely ballistic and actually maimed someone.
As it was, I managed to keep most of my seething rage inside - even as I'd find something semi-cute (out of the heaps of ugly, insulting crap) and then OF COURSE it wouldn't be in my size. Along with that was the seasonal issue. I know summer's coming (let me call out, here: WE LIVE IN NEW ENGLAND! Summer - hell, spring! - could still be months away), but how about they lay off the capri pants a bit? I'm pregnant and need new pants NOW, not 2 months from now when the weather will actually allow me to wear capris! Don't pregnant women need to continue working their real corporate jobs??? According to JC Penney, it's all capris and other such bullshit once you're gestating!
Just thinking about it makes me angry. And of COURSE they didn't have any maternity lingerie - not that I could find anyway. And that's really what I need at this point. I think my current bras actually quiver with fear when I pick them up to put them on - as do my poor beleaguered boobs, which are getting all their circulation cut off by the too-small underwired cups I'm currently stuck with.
I went home utterly deflated, feeling ugly and fat, and depressed as hell at what is clearly to be my lot in life for the next several (never-ending) months. Then M kindly suggested I try Target, since they have a maternity section. I thought that seemed like a great idea - I've walked through there before and seen some cute stuff. As expected, they did have some agreeable options, but, again, I'd find a cute pair of pants and they'd be either way too big or way too small - never in my size. The 2 pairs I did try on (one a size up, another a size down - seriously, they did NOT have my size!) didn't fit. Duh.
Then I tried on a few dresses because we're going to a wedding next weekend and I'm already at a loss as to what I should wear. That's when the depression fairy actually flew UP MY BUTT and made me want to run screaming into the hills of Not-Pregnant. I'm something like 17+ weeks along - I shouldn't already look like I'm ready to pop a kid out! Granted, I can somewhat improve this appearance by standing up straighter and sucking in a bit. But goddammit, I have a GIANT GUT on me! And my ass is making every effort to catch up - and fast. And of course, pregnancy wear is ALL about the jersey knit - which looks like shit on me even when I'm NOT pregnant. Add another layer of lovely fat, aforementioned Giant Gut, bigger-than-ever ass, and you've got a recipe for disaster. I'm jiggly, I'm big, and I'm hormonal. Who thinks that jersey knit is a good idea? I would like to get my hands on any designer who uses this vile material on anything but tee shirts and wring their stupid, skinny, CLEARLY never-been-fat-and-pregnant necks!!! AAAACKCCCKCKCCCKKK!!!!!!
Anyway, another fun discovery this weekend is that I now have access to way more of my belly button than ever before. This is because it's already pooching out and on its way to being an outie. Yep. Where I used to be able to store chapstick in there due to its impressive depth, now I am busy creating the Mount Vesuvius of navels. Just one more example of how my body is changing - rapidly and beyond my control.
It's the no-control thing that has me utterly freaked out, I think. I feel like I'm on a roller coaster that's constantly going over very steep drops, and I keep shrieking to get off, but the operator (aka: the Weeble) is clearly NOT LISTENING! So over these precipitous drops I will continue to go until I give birth - and then I suppose I'm getting on an altogether different roller coaster where the operator (aka: currently unnamed progeny) will continue to ignore my pleas to stop and get off.
Oof.
OK, so it's not all as bad as I make it sound. What I need is to just vent like crazy and be told that everything is normal, everything is OK, and I will not be a fat lard-o forever. I have the very VERY good fortune of having a husband who finds my pregnant body beautiful. Every time he touches my belly, he goes a little fuzzy with delight. It never fails to make me feel a little better about myself.
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