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Inside the Mind of a Pregnant Woman Shopping for Maternity Clothes

05/19/2015 05:34 EDT | Updated 05/19/2016 05:59 EDT
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Here is the mash up between my mental narration and the dressing room text messages between my sister and I (she was watching my two children) during my big day out to "stock up on maternity clothes."

My Brain: This will be so worth the two hour trip into town. Ah, no kids, I can do this so quickly!

I can't wait to see what there are for options. Maternity clothes have come such a long way. I can finally get some clothes that fit me, something I feel good in.

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Ugh look at that hideous peasant top, this must be the wrong section. Oh, crap, it's maternity. Really? That's the sentinel image of fashion they want to display to women carrying around an extra twenty pounds in all the most awkward places?!

Okay, well let's try one of everything then. Tank, v-neck t-shirts, jeggings, black pants, maxi skirt, empire waist dress. Nothing really breaking any trend boundaries but that's the basics at least -- this should set me for the rest of the pregnancy.

Into the fitting room:

Man I have a lot of layers on. Ugh, I think my ankles are even sweating. You hear about those creepy cameras in fitting rooms, if they are in this one, I think I've just gave them a very pasty lesson in stretch marks and ill fitting undergarments. Jokes on them!

I'll try pants first. I'm so excited to get a pair of skinny jeans, I could wear them every day! Those other two pairs of maternity jeans I have make me look a 13-year-old skater boy -- with a beer gut, and pretty hair.

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Huh! Am I missing a body part? This is the right size after all. I don't think that part of me will get any bigger to fill that in. Oh well, it's gonna be summer anyways. Sun dresses and flip flops! Maybe I don't need pants.

OK, dresses. Why are they all empire waist!? The Greek goddess look only works when you don't look like you ate a Greek goddess and then shimmied into her clothes like a tomcat getting shoved into spanx. Really, I look like a frat boy with pretty hair at a yoga party. Well, how about something non-maternity. Ah ruching, the BFF of lumps and bumps everywhere.

Oh, it might look all sexy inmate from the front, but look what it does to my butt.

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Hey butt! I know we haven't always gotten along ever since I labeled you a useless pancake, but when did you decide to trickle down and form a cushy two feet of flat padding, instead of maintaining the regulation 12 inches of semi-rounded cheeks?! WHEN I ask you! WHEN!?

Besides, who wears stripes on their ass on a good day?

Maxi dresses, they are pretty fool proof, breezy and comfy -- but why are they all striped? I could wear these, alone, in my backyard. Out in public I might be mistaken for a untethered beach umbrella tumbling down the sidewalk, with pretty hair.

Screw it, let's stick with shirts. I'll figure out the rest later (code for I'm succumbing to perma-sweats).

Okay, shirts, you are simple to figure out. Huh? More stripes!? I mean aren't there other options out there maternity clothing designers? I know florals make preggos look like a bad home ec. project involving some hand-me-down drapes but all these stripes! They are taking the "cute nautical trend" and weaving a giant joke of a bulging circus tent.

Guess I'll just get a couple to add to my collection of striped maternity tops, at least the new ones won't have food stains on the belly.

OK, three striped shirts is all I am bringing to the checkout. I guess I could also get some peasant tops. There's lots and lots of pastel, crepe-papery peasant top options...

F-it! I'm buying shoes!

Find more from Shawna at Simple on Purpose. Where she writes about seeking simpler living, momfails, marriage and why running makes her cry.

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