Today was a sad day. A tragic day. A changing day in my journey.
Just 48 hours ago, a girlfriend said to me “wow, your still fitting into your jeans?!”
Yep, I say. Not bad hey. Smug, smug me.
Today, on went my old faithful denim friends. Not my every day go to pair of jeans but that pair of jeans that lurks in every woman’s closet. The pair that just makes you feel good. The ones where your bum looks awesome and you can prance around the world for the day thinking yep, today, I look fab. I love those jeans.
On they went. Got in the car. Drove to a site visit. Walked around said site visit thinking
a) bad choice of shoes for a day pounding the pavement and
b) hhmmm, these jeans don’t feel as good as they normally do
Putting the pinching feeling around my waist to the back of mind, I got on with it and went about my day.
Then I ate lunch.
Although it was just a light salad and a juice, my denim world crumbled. I simply couldn’t take it anymore. What had happened? Had I been punked? Had someone switched these delightful prance inspiring denim faithfuls with a pair of one size smaller, waist pinching torturers? Say it isn’t so.
Not so smug anymore I hear my denim whispering.
I’ve been one of those lucky pregnant women who hasnt really gained any weight just yet. Sure my boobs are the size of grapefruits and I have a little paunch around my belly that could be mistaken for a bit of a burger bender symptom rather than a baby, but as a whole, I think the weight has simply shifted rather than been added.
Today, that shift claimed its first victim.
In the space of 3 hours I had gone from a confident denim wearing prancer to a belt and top button undone, slouching fat bellied pregnant lady.
What the fuck? How did this happen?
Get used to it I hear you say, its all a part of being pregnant, you’re going to get a lot bigger!
I know all of this of course. Its just the today was the first day that I really felt like I was going to have to say goodbye to my body. And clearly my denim.
Maybe it’s one more dot that just got connected? Maybe its just one more piece of the puzzle, designed to get me ready for the loss of a lot more control in my life. Maybe I just ate too much pasta last night.
Either way, tonight, when I got home, I took those bad boys off. Quickly.
No amount of prancing is going to make up for the discomfort those old faithfuls now cause me.
So back in the cupboard they go. Never to be chosen again. Well, not until I get my body back anyway.
Maybe they will become my goal pants. The ones that, in about a years time, I will be striving to get back into. The ones that on a night out post baby, give me my prance back.
Until then my denim friends. I’m sorry. I love you. Goodbye.