Observation #1: Maternity clothing

Maternity clothing is pretty much inevitable unless you enjoy looking like an overweight, lesbian lumberjack in your husband's clothing.

I could get away with sneaking a few of my husband's "smaller" shirts at the beginning of my pregnancy. I didn't look fat or pregnant yet. Instead, I looked cute and spunky in an oversized band tee and Justice League sleeping pants.

Fast forward a few months. I look fat now. Not terribly fat, but not obviously pregnant. Just pudgy. The band tee actually fits me now and the Justice League sleeping pants are now radiating to the world that "I just don't care" about the way I look. This is about the time that I bit the bullet and forced my frugal self to purchase clothing designed for women in my situation.

While some women love oohing and ahhing over the new wardrobe options in store, spending copious amounts of time admiring each garment in the dressing room mirror, and admiring the ways this clothing shows off their "baby bump", I certainly did not. Trying on clothing when you are sporting a new flabbier figure was not enjoyable. If you are like me, I suggest going alone, avoiding the mirrors and spend 10 minutes max at the store. You're not going to find something that makes you look really "pregnant" yet, and you're not going to find something that makes you look thin, either. Just bring a tape measure and find shirts that are long enough to cover the rolls of fat that creep up over your pants.

Fast forward a couple of months. You are obviously pregnant now. The clothing that you bought three months ago makes you look radiant and actually flatters your new figure. You may enjoy the way you look now. At least, you are used to it. My relationship with maternity clothing changed. I looked for sales and tried on things that weren't even on sale. Looking in the mirror was something I could do. I even took a couple of proud pictures of my protruding belly.

Now, onto my latest and most profound observation about maternity clothing: There truly is no such thing as "maternity clothing" for people that are 9 months pregnant. There just isn't. These articles of clothing that I so gingerly cared for and loved throughout my pregnancy were quoted to fit me throughout the entire pregnancy. It was a lie. The shirts now ride up so high that each thunderous footstep sends the top creeping up to my boobs. I once strode all around the mall with my shirt flipped up over my stomach, exposing my grotesquely bulging belly button to the world. No one had the courage to tell me. Maybe some of the women who noticed didn't tell me because they knew nothing could be done about it. They had been 9 months pregnant before; in their minds, these shirt mishaps just happened and there was nothing you could do about them. The maternity pants that I wore just weeks before have also long outlived their shelf-life: they won't even go over my stretchmark-riddled thighs.

I literally wake up each day with the same challenge ahead of me: What the hell am I going to wear and how can I wear it in public??

So, it looks like I am back to the now very form-fitting band tees and the Justice League sleeping pants that are two inches too short and too tight to tie. At least I can wear it with confidence now. I'm sweaty, hugely pregnant and the only looks I get in public are those of empathy.

The end is drawing near

I originally started this blog to chronicle the joys and annoyances of this gestational journey but a problem with the server caused all of my posts to delete. I upheld my self-threat to "throw in the towel" and didn't look back -- until now.

At 37 weeks and 3 days, the end of this pregnancy is theoretically in sight. But I've realized that there are so many daily observations and discoveries that I am encountering towards the end of this pregnancy that I thought it may be fun to share with others.

So, this is the story of my pregnancy as it draws an end. May it be a short story.

What the Heck?

Well, it looks like my blog somehow deleted itself. So much for that. Hours of typing out the window. If the admins cannot restore my posts, I'm throwing in the towel.