A few weeks ago my husband came home telling me that his battalion was having a dinning in and spouses were welcome. Before he even finished his sentence I told him I wasn’t going. You see, I’m pregnant with our first child and I was at that awkward pregnancy stage where I was gaining the pregnancy belly, I was breaking out and I wasn’t comfortable in my own skin. Why on earth would I want to go to a dressy dinner feeling the way I felt?
I tried to explain to my husband how I felt, but in typical man fashion it went in one ear and out the other. A few weeks passed before any mention of the dinning in. Again my husband asked, and again, I said no. However, I was starting to contemplate going.
I began trying on dresses I had, but the zippers wouldn’t go past the small of my back due to the growing belly. After the second dress attempt I gave up. Being a woman in a world where we are constantly judging it is a lot to take on. Being a woman in that same world makes you just want to put a paper bag over your head and give up.
I had attempted to shop around and see what stores were offering maternity dresses, the end result was that I could either fork over almost $200 for a great maternity dress that I won’t wear that often or end up spending about $50 on a maternity dress that would make me look like a Stepford wife, I opted for neither.
Normally I would give up or give in in those situations, because it’s just dress shopping. In fact, I’m the type of girl who finds her ball dress in less than 10 minutes. So why was this more complicated? Was it because I was pregnant or was it something else? It came down to the realization that not only was it because I was pregnant, but also because this new body I was getting was something I wasn’t used to. I mean, at 32 I was finally beginning to accept my body, so this was a shocker.
After much debate, going back and forth on the notion of going to this dinning in, and knowing that sweatpants weren’t an option, I put my big girl undies on and headed to Target and found the perfect LBMD (little black maternity dress). Was it what I wanted? Not sure, but I felt completely comfortable.
The dinning in was successfully and I actually enjoyed myself more than I thought. Being pregnant and in situations like these makes you wonder how women did this sort of thing in the past, where there wasn’t a maternity store or maternity selection. It’s understandable to be uncomfortable, but remember: you are not alone.