A while back, I asked you about your favorite blogs. A while back, like, the beginning of September. And some of you asked about my favorite blogs.
Look, I meant to get on this, like, three months ago, but then all kinds of stuff happened (no it didn't) and I got really bizzy (not really) and then I forgot (sort of a half truth here) and I've been up all night for weeks trying to make this happen (nope).
BUT, what I'm trying to say is that I'm going to try to show you my favorite blogs by bringing them to you via guest post. I'm going to try to do this once a week, but I make no promises since I am a lazy ass whore.
First up: Murgdan at Conceive This! If you don't read her blog, you should. She is funny and adorable and well-spoken and I've loved her blog for a long long time.
(Murgdan: Me love you long time.)
Jennepper Readers, Meet Murgdan.
I have arrived.
I have arrived because this guest post will appear on the first infertility blog I ever read. I didn’t find it by searching for things like “oh-my-GAWD-my-husband-has-wonky-sperm” or “we-need-IVF-so-I’m-drinking-alcohol”. I didn’t even google, “maybe if you just relax”. I actually searched for “Infertilty Humor” and ended up here. And I’m still here. So. That being said. The mere fact that I was even asked to guest post here means that I have arrived.
Most importantly, I have arrived pregnant. And needing clothes.
As an on-the-plus-side-but-hiding-it-well woman, I could have comfortably garbed myself in elastic waist pants since my last year of college. But, thanks to my official yet still unbelievable state of expectedness, I now have the official green light go ahead and purchase maternity wear, you know, legally.
I wouldn’t fit my belly into the ‘baby bump’ category just yet. While I don’t yet have a perfectly rounded bit of cuteness, my lower bit of what used to be squishy is slowly becoming more firm—which is awesome because I have always wanted rock hard abs. I’ll take what I can get. I love that for the first time in my life I don’t feel the need to ‘hold it in’, ‘suck it in’, or ‘tuck it in with an old lady girdle.’ I finally feel comfortable in this pregnancy and in my own skin.
Clothing-wise, I am frugal—and not too picky. I first made an attempt to purchase a lot of maternity clothes from a greedy maternity snob on Craig’s List. Craig needs a new list though—because this lady thought there was a difference between ‘used clothes’ and ‘only worn 3 or 4 times clothes’. I offered one hundred dollars for 20 items of used, as in previously worn, clothes, and she turned me down. “But I only wore some of this stuff a few times…I won’t take less than $150. I mean, it’s name brand stuff.” Name brand? It’s from Motherhood, bitch. I’m not trying to steal a deal on your Prada Armani Gucci Secret Belly Cashmere. You can drop that shit off at Goodwill, because for $150 I’ll buy my own new clothes and wear them 3 or 4 times and then sell them for 100 bucks myself.
I was off to the pregnant lady store--which was not an easy step. How intimidating is it to actually step foot inside a shop you’ve been rolling your eyes at for two years? Enough that I sat outside in my car for at least 5 minutes debating if I could put this shopping extravaganza off for just one more week. My bladder made the decision for me. I had to go in—now.
And there she was. Pregnancy Store Sales-Ho. Hunting me down faster than a used car salesman. Stop right there. “I just need one pair of jeans and a pair of work pants. That’s all.” Pregnancy Store Sales-Ho proceeded to show me at least 5 styles of pants, and introduce me to all my waist options. Over a pair of cords she exclaimed, “Oh my GAWD, and these are SO comfortable. I’m wearing a pair right now.” I gaze down at her belly. There’s not one. “Oh, I’m not pregnant. I just love the pants here.” What a strange perfect-bodied woman…who admits to wearing maternity clothes though she is not with child. Freak.
I picked out my pair of jeans and black work pants, and then headed to the restroom prior to trying on my long-awaited purchases. I am not quite sure what happened during my minute long trip, but I returned to a dressing room chock full of maternity pants, maternity t-shirts, and maternity sweaters. I was also given some type of strange fake pillow-belly that made me look like I was gestating an elephant—so I just trashed that under the chair. All I had to do to look 8 months along was stop sucking in—duh.
I was momentarily pissed off at perfect-bodied-maternity-wearing-sales-ho for putting so many things in my dressing room in an obvious attempt to trick me into buying a million dollars worth of stuff. Until I tried the stuff. And I liked the stuff. I was the best maternity customer ever. I bought every item she originally stuffed into the little curtained dressing room. Every item.
I love that these maternity clothes aren’t the flower-print empire-waist muumuus I imagined they would be. I am better dressed now than I have been in the last 3 years. Mostly, more than anything, I’m happy I have a perfectly good reason to wear clothes designed for pregnancy. I’m thrilled that I had a motive to even try them on. I’m ecstatic that I have cause to know the difference between a mid-belly an under-belly and a three-way belly.
Sometimes I don’t think this can get any better, but I have a feeling it will. Still, I’m not selling you my used name-brand clothes for anything less than $150, Craigslist. So don’t even try it.