The bain of pregnancy
This time around, I didn't rush into maternity clothes. My morning routine was sucking in, buttoning, repositioning, and well cramming myself into my pants. Even if that meant wearing the largest size in my closet. I really do detest pants while pregnant.
It isn't really the fact that I am gaining weight faster than my son can count to ten. It's the fact that no matter what you do--adding any sort of elastic waist to any sort of pants--well, doesn't flatter a soul.
Sure, in the almost five years since I had to bury myself in maternity wear fashion has improved immensely (there are more than 2 stores in the affordable maternity wear category). And hell, I even like some of the tops that they offer (even the ones that make me look HUGE and I am only about 4 1/2 months along). But I still can't get over the pants. Over the belly. Under the belly, just on the belly. Doesn't matter. I can never get them positioned right to be completely comfortable. And God only knows what it does to my already larger-than-life ass. In all honesty, I probably don't want to know.
It isn't really the fact that I am gaining weight faster than my son can count to ten. It's the fact that no matter what you do--adding any sort of elastic waist to any sort of pants--well, doesn't flatter a soul.
Sure, in the almost five years since I had to bury myself in maternity wear fashion has improved immensely (there are more than 2 stores in the affordable maternity wear category). And hell, I even like some of the tops that they offer (even the ones that make me look HUGE and I am only about 4 1/2 months along). But I still can't get over the pants. Over the belly. Under the belly, just on the belly. Doesn't matter. I can never get them positioned right to be completely comfortable. And God only knows what it does to my already larger-than-life ass. In all honesty, I probably don't want to know.
Labels: pregnancy
