I have set off in a quest for comfort. Never in my life have I just wanted to be comfortable as much as now. It's a slippery slope. The first indication came while shopping for practical shoes. I was looking for flat shoes because after cooking all day in little heels on Christmas, I realized I would have to say goodbye to any type of shoe that had a raised heel.
Next was the underwear. My cute lacy numbers began to be replaced at first with some cute lacy maternity thongs from Old Navy, and has since been supplemented with full coverage "granny panties," which I'm told will be necessary for after delivery. If you know me well, you would understand how heartbreaking it is to succumb to this purchase.
Which leads me to the next heartbreaking purchase of a nursing bra. Let's face it, it's a hassle to shop for cute bras at my size anyway. Well my size is no longer my size and with whatever ounce of pride I do have left, I refuse to buy some long term solution here. So the practical solution is to graduate to a nursing bra right now, hoping my girls will decide to go back to their original size within the next year or so. I know, how very optimistic of me. If you've ever seen a nursing bra, you know that this contraption is purely for practical intentions. There is nothing cute about it. Period.
(I'm sure I've lost most of my reading audience, if not just my grandpa here.)
Moving on to the outerwear... I finally resigned to getting new (roomier) maternity pants, which I might just wear every single day until this baby comes. These pants ROCK and I highly recommend them to anyone who is addicted to the BellaBand as I am.
And last, but the most important part of my comfort has been sleep. I have yet to find a solution to this. I have found that the only comfortable place to sit is in the new recliner we got a few weeks ago. I have a better understanding of why my father (may he rest in peace) loved his recliner so much that he had resorted to duct taping the arm rest and various other places of the frayed fabric, instead of just going out and getting a new one, much to my mom's and my embarrassment. I might just have to start sleeping on the recliner, because even with a CalKing bed, I've managed to build a trench around myself with pillows to support my back, my hips, my belly and my head. I'm running out of room, and Rick has donated all but one of his pillows to my cause.
As I sit here in my ugly intimates and stretchy, comfy jeans, on my recliner, I can tell you that my priorities have shifted big time in the comfort department. Someone will have to remind me--postpartum--that this will need to be nipped into the bud at some point. One day I will want to revert back to lacy bras and thongs, clothing that requires a constant abdominal workout by sucking it in all the time, and cute heels that leave blisters after five minutes of wear but look damn good with that outfit. Right?
2 comments:
Ha! So funny. I remember feeling exactly this way. I was probably about as far along with Alyssa as you are now when I felt like I might completely lose my mind if I had to put on another piece of clothing that was hot, constricting or uncomfortable in any way. I remember going to Target in a quest to find just ONE PAIR of comfortable Capri pants to wear to something or other because I’d outgrown all my favorites but it was too late in the season and the maternity section was completely picked over. Every pair I tried was tight SOMEWHERE. Nothing there for me.
In a fit of desperation, I resorted to grabbing some pants pants from the clearance rack in the plus-size section in sizes WAY bigger than my normal size. Cara, as my occasional fashion consultant, if you’d been there with me… well you would have shoved me into the red cart and wheeled me out of there as fast as you could go.
But instead, I stood in front of the mirror wearing the equivalent of a tent dress except they were pants. They were hideous. There was absolutely not a redeeming thing about these pants except that they were SO COMFORTABLE that I just stood there not sure whether to weep with joy or weep in horror. I actually bought them! Though I can’t imagine I ever wore them. I think it was just one of those things where I felt better just knowing they were there if I really needed them. And they were on clearance, after all.
I’m sorry, but you’ll have to count on someone else to pull you back to the sexy side after the baby is born. My vanity completely fell out the window somewhere during my first pregnancy and for me it became a slippery slope after Amanda was born because it suddenly seemed like nobody ever actually looked at ME anymore because they were too busy ogling the baby. Rather than being even mildly upset about it I found that to be a complete relief and quite freeing.
I wonder how old your youngest has to be before you have to stop using the excuse "I have a newborn at home" to explain how crappy you look? Do you think two is too old or maybe 14?
Cara,
You're so funny! I can't imagine you NOT wearing some lacey little thong sticking out the top of your ultra low rise jeans with your XXXX-me heels on. This is just a temporary phase, and as your BFF, I will not permit you to stick with these fashion trends long-term. OK?
Love ya babe,
Heidi
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