I think I’ve experienced a major wardrobe malfunction. As in, suddenly none of my clothes fit me anymore. Uh oh. It’s true that I can still kind of sneak into a few tops and dresses (if I plan carefully enough), but pants are an absolute impossibility. Don’t worry. This doesn’t mean I’m going around without them or anything crazy. But if I could live in pajamas at home for a while, I think mom and baby would both breathe a little easier.
My most recent discovery is that a baby who has dropped wants nothing to do with waistbands, denim, buttons, zippers, elastic or anything else of a restrictive nature. And who could blame him or her? I wouldn’t want something digging into my cute little head if I were a baby either. So we struggle. Every day, I find something that “works,” and I last pretty well until around lunchtime. Then, I get a bit cranky, and baby gets quite a bit cranky, and we make sure to alternate sitting and standing and laying down in equal parts to make the situation a little less restrictive. If someone told me this was going to happen, I might have believed them, but probably not. The exponential growth is a bit overwhelming.
How does one outgrow pants in a matter of weeks? Or days? It’s a tad humbling to try on the same things I wore last week and to consistently keep adding them to the “not-so-much” pile in my closet. Baby has grown a whole heaping lot in April, and I’m probably going to start limiting my wardrobe to large sheets, potato sacks, bathrobes and men’s sweatpants to accommodate. For someone who enjoys fashion the way I do, this is a big leap. I just keep willing the kiddo into the world so that I can at least bend over and maybe fit into some of my early pregnancy clothes for a bit.
The timing is interesting, with Summer coming and all. I think about days on the beach and tank tops and such and cringe a tiny bit before realizing that I’ll be all that much more motivated to get my running shoes back on. Honestly, nothing sounds better than a good, long, Summer evening run, music in my ears, feet pounding the pavement, baby cozy at home with dad. Really, they haven’t had near as much time to spend together these past nine months, so that seems reasonable, right?
All things considered, there’s still not anything I’d rather be doing than becoming a mom and welcoming the babe into the world. Wardrobe malfunctions and backaches and mandatory afternoon nap times aside, it’s really the most joyful thing I’ve ever been privileged to do. Life as a mom will be centered on sacrifice a lot of days–if not most days, or every day. It’s good to be getting in a little bit of practice
still growing, it seems,