I Miss my Maternity Clothes
What brings this on, you might ask? A frustrating afternoon of clothes shopping with my little sister (she is actually older than I am, but she’s definitely smaller than me) in which I was completely dissatisfied with my size and body. Nothing fit right. All the lumps I was trying to hide seemed to be spotlighted. What’s with these “modern” cuts of clothing? Why is this shirt draping so weirdly over my torso? How am I supposed to get that pair of pants to stay up if they are riding so low on my very short-waist?
That evening, after the ill-fated shopping trip, I met up with some blogger friends at a Washington Mystics game. Delora mentioned she was trying to find some maternity clothes, and I lamented that I’d just given all mine away. I thought fondly of the funky, cool, stylish tops I'd worn. I wistfully remembered how the stretchy elastic pants fit me through many stages of pregnancy. And the dresses! I had a ton of flowy dresses that were feminine and pretty and draped so beautifully.
Granted. I was one of those women who agreed with pregnancy—my skin glowed, my hair and nails grew in strong, I didn't swell up (I kept my ankles!), and I was in love with my big pregnant belly. It was the only time in my adult life that I was totally content with my body. It was doing what it’s supposed to do and I was proud of the way I looked as I gestated a new life. If something didn’t fit quite right, I didn’t care because they either had recently fit, or would fit soon. I wore chic patterns and fashionable designs that I won't otherwise wear on my non-pregnant self. My maternity clothes reflected my confidence because I felt so good about myself.
Now that my womb is empty (permanently, according to The Husband’s and my plans!), I return to enduring dissatisfaction with my body. I don’t want to purchase clothes in my current size since I fully intend to get back to my pre-pregnancy weight (circa 2003). So I limp along with a handful of barely tolerable clothes. It physically pains me to spend money on clothes to fit my current size…but maybe it should pain me more that I am giving new definition to Mommy Frumpiness.
Original DC Metro Moms post. Michelle blogs at Wife and Mommy.
