It’s a girl, and maternity clothes suck

It’s been a smidgen since I have updated this here adventure guide. And no, it isn’t because I don’t care about you or the baby anymore, promise. I’ve been busy – finding out that my little stomach monkey is part chinese acrobat, and all girl. That’s right, I am temporarily saved from the horror of sharing a bathroom with two dudes. Praise be to the potty gods, and the makers of pink baby converse.

Along with being pregnant enough to know if Baby Meiners will pee standing up or sitting down, comes the inevitable switch to maternity clothing. I am an unabashed clothes horse, and this is quickly becoming one of the most uncomfortable parts of pregnancy… well a close second anyway to the wonders of round ligament pain (yet another secret pregnancy conspiracy that grandparents-to-be have successfully hidden from the world) and a newfound appreciation for going to bed shortly after the sun sets. Don’t get me started on having to do two.whole.things in one day…

As if adding a small piece of carry-on luggage to my girth weren’t enough, the makers of maternity clothing have decided to torture me by offering clothing in only one of two categories: comfortable and flattering, but way too expensive, or what has to be muumuu inspired garb that itches all over and shows an indecent amount of my newly sprouted cleavage. Yes, it is awesome that I could possibly be mistaken for an implant patient right now, but no, I am not as excited about it as someone who fancies a future in an underwear catalog, or say my husband.

Another problem that the maternity clothing industry has decided they would like to exacerbate for me – I am desperately short. Oh, to be one of you lovely ladies who can buy pants and dresses anywhere – it must be nice. Do you get to eat chocolate kisses all day and ride unicorns, too? In my unicorn-less world there is the sad reality that I have found only one maternity store close by that carries petite sizes in stock.  And I haven’t quite become accustomed to having this baby bump enough to be able to comfortably buy pants and clothing online.  Which leaves me stuck between their stock and naked legs.

In turn, my shoe collection is growing at a rate proportionate to my belly and I am being told horror stories of women’s feet growing by leaps and bounds and never returning to the pre-baby footprint. Shhh… don’t let those sassy, patent leather red heels hear you say that… or my new suede cowboy boots… or those adorable metal-studded clogs.

3 thoughts on “It’s a girl, and maternity clothes suck

  1. Oh honey, I know! Oh, how do I know!

    I’m just a smidge taller than the average girl and have always been on the big-boned (a.k.a chubby) side of things. I ran in to the same problem, just the other end of the spectrum. I finally gave up and started shopping at the plus-sized shops and bought clothes that would accommodate my Santa belly and gave the maternity department a big middle finger. And the shoes… I wear a TEN on a regular day. Pregnant, the only place I could find shoes was in the drag queen section at Payless. Thankfully the shoe Gods had mercy on me, after the kid made her exit, my feet deflated and returned to their normal bigness.

    Hang in there Toots! It’s not easy being an incubator. Oh and if all else fails, say screw it and get some tennies, comfy track pants and a nice big sweatshirt and call it good.

  2. Oh but my dear, try being on the super-tall side of the spectrum. No, those of us us over 6′ don’t get unicorns and chocolate, we get high-waters and tents. And my size 10 became a lovely size 11 after baby uno, but thankfully didn’t grow again after baby dos.
    And a hint on the round ligament pain… Get a comfy recliner to sleep in just in case. Yeah, mine got that bad, I couldn’t lay down flat. BUT that was only in the last couple of weeks.
    And I agree with Holly, sweats are your friends. 🙂

  3. Maternity clothes suck for EVERYONE who is not both rich and a maternity catalog model. I am not even super-tall like Ganesha. I am, like, a whole two inches above the average height for American women. I could not find maternity pants that fit me. Anywhere. They were all too short. I went around in pants that were two short for the entire second half of my pregnancy and it made me want to cry. I tried to wear skirts as often as I could, but of course that required me to climb over my ginormous belly to attempt to shave my legs . . .

    I was also carrying low and in front which made it really difficult to find shirts that actually covered my belly. Lameitude.

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