Something magical happened this week. All of the stars aligned and my hormones and self-esteem peaked in perfect harmony with each other and I actually went…jeans shopping. I realized about 1 week in that I was not going to be one of the chosen few women who bounce back super quickly. You know the ones (Dr. Everything’s gonna be alright…). My name was not drawn in the weight-losing lottery and sadly they do not let you volunteer as tribute.
So I did the deed. I caved and bought the dreaded transition jeans. You know, the ones that you want to buy on sale or at Target because you *hopefully* won’t be in them for long, but you’re for dang sure not going to muffin-top it with your old jeans for months. (HAHA-as if they would even button at all HAHAHAHAHAHA).
So anyways. I hunted. And hunted. And hunted. I knew that if I hunted enough, the shopping fairies would grant me my wish of crazy-on-sale Gap jeans that would make my butt look fabulous and give me Suzanne Somer legs. Ok maybe not that last part. Maybe. Not.
Finally, 4 Gaps later I found them. 2 pairs of $15 jeans in my size, Which turned out to be 4 sizes up from normal. “Whatever it’s cool. I made a baby with my body. I shouldn’t feel bad. I’m totally fine with this.” *Silent tear.*
So today I am celebrating the fact that I am officially in 100% non-maternity clothes!
This celebration comes with a fair share of mourning, though. First of all, because I still have some righteous muffin top action EVEN IN MY 4 SIZES BIGGER JEANS, and secondly because my body no longer rests in the loving embrace that is expandable maternity clothes.
I miss you, elastic waistband, and your friend, the ruched t-shirt. You guys were so good to me in my time of need. You grew with my ever-enlarging belly and never made me feel fat. You had cute patterns and proved that stripes can work in your favor sometimes. You made me forget that I was eating like a horse and cut out the need to strip upon walking through the door to your house and immediately put on sweats. You made my dreams come true of never being expected to wear regular pants because your yoga pants are FANCY ENOUGH OK? You were so good to me, but like many great things, our relationship had to end. I’m with regular jeans now. Sure, I may go behind his back from time-to-time because your pull-up waistband is great for holding ALL OF THIS LOOSE SKIN in, but I have to ride that straight and narrow fashion line on the regular. Until next time (OH GOSH I STILL CAN’T THINK ABOUT A NEXT TIME), I’ll be missing you.