Yup! I used to be Pretty Hot And Tempting. Up until a a year ago I could still fit into my prom dress, yeah, my prom dress, and that was many a moon ago. I got everyone’s fashionable hand me downs (you know the ones you hate to give away) and I could shop on the sale rack and make out with tons of incredible finds that no other woman could fit. I had a tiny frame, a tiny waist, and not so tiny boobs. I was the cat’s meow.
Butt…and that’s a big BUTT (and the extra “T’ is in fact intentional), I can no longer fit my jeans, skirts, shirts and dresses. After having little Zoe, my pride and joy, my baby girl I have been transformed from PHAT to FAT. God Bless her little heart she has absolutely no idea. But if she knew any better she’d even notice an extra layer of fatty cream in my breast milk.
Now this wasn’t necessarily a new discovery. After all, it’s been some months since Zoe’s debut, but I got a huge slap in the face today when I sorted through my closet to find clothes for a clothing swap. I tried on some of my favorite pieces for the first time after giving birth and I couldn’t get half of them to move passed my thighs or close over my new boobs (boobs of which I actually don’t mind..tee hee). The gut is well… flabby and gut- like and competes with my butt for attention. It’s a sad sorted affair. I know that the brave and resilient Momma’s before me have dealt with this sort of traumatic awakening, but it’s a pretty scary thing to handle alone. My hubby has no idea what to say, and what he does find to say runs me straight to the back room in tears. “If you don’t like it, just work out, Amina,” or “I don’t see what you’re talking about. You look fine.” I know you might think there is nothing wrong with the previous statements, but the first one makes me feel lazy and the second one makes me feel like he is pacifying me. We women really are complicated, it’s true.
So my only hope is that maybe I’ll find some new and fun stuff at the clothing swap. Something that is even remotely flattering and NOT my usual yoga pants and t-shirt ensemble. Until then, I’m in the ranks of Momma’s who’s babies are much more stylish and fashion forward then they are. All of my family photos will consist of close-ups of my face or simply just pictures of Zoe, heck she represents the good half of me anyway.
Hey, if you’ve got any ideas on how to help me cope, I’m definitely open to hearing them. Help a Momma out!