an ode to low-rise pants

Why do I hate maternity clothes so much? I think the word "maternity" might be part of the problem. The word alone sounds vaguely bloated and tentish -- two things I had hoped to avoid while pregnant. Unsuccessfully when it comes to the bloating part, I might add.

I have to confess that I was completely unprepared for how alarming it would be for my body to change like this. Obviously, you expect it to change, but you don't really get it until it happens to you seemingly overnight. I've never struggled with my weight and in fact, never really gave it much thought prior to this experience. However, once I got pregnant I realized that that body image -- the old thin one -- is much more a part of me than I ever thought. But I've weighed the options, and have decided to embrace my love for cheeseburgers even if it means I have to work a little harder afterward to fit into my old jeans.

But you know, I should count my blessings. First of all, how lucky am I to be living in the era of low-rise pants? How did people ever cope with pregnancy in the 80s, when jeans came up to your rib cage? Yuck. I've tried so hard to like maternity pants but just haven't been able to do it. However, now that I'm getting close to six months along and TOTALLY showing, I do feel a little silly walking into my standard teenybopper stores and trying things on. I already feel conspicuous as a 31-year old shopping there, but add the big belly and the whole spectacle becomes a bit ridiculous.

Oh well. It's a free country. But please, next time you see me perusing a rack of clothing at Forever 21, bite your tongue and walk on by.