So, here’s the thing about working when you’re pregnant: You can’t go to the office in your pajamas, sweatpants, or overalls. You’re still supposed to look “professional,” which I hate being forced to do in the first place, let alone when I’m 7 months along and nothing fits and I’m too cheap to go buy new stuff that will only last for another month and a half.
Don’t get me wrong – I love getting dressed up. Sometimes. It’s being forced to do so when what I’m wearing has nothing to do with what I’m producing at my job that gets my goat (and other farm animals within my soul, too).
So anyway, I’m huge and spend the mornings fumbling around the bedroom, strapping items to my body with tape, glue, paperclips, leaving items unzipped, rolled down, harnessed together with Christmas ribbon. At this point, I figure the attempt of ‘making it work’ – Project Pregnant Runway, anyone? – should give me some points at least. So I look like a cross between a hobo and a layer cake (the crumbles that collect at the various bumps on my front do provide a quick and easy snack at times) – I’m trying.
Well, yesterday, I tried a brown dress with buttons down the front. I knew it was dangerous when I applied it to my behemouth body in the morning, but nothing else was clean.
I should have worn a garbage bag.
Lunching at a downtown pizza place, I waddled to dump my trash in the garbage can, and happened to look down – to see that my giant pink underwear – obviously, crazily too big! – were down around my ankles.
There was no way to bend over. No way to retrieve them. No way to waddle to the bathroom.
So I did what I had to do – I kicked them up and tossed them in the garbage, along with my plate and plastic fork.
Okay, so then we’re outside, I’m feeling very exposed, and of course we run into people we know, and as we finish talking to them, my friend whispers, “Hey, don’t freak out, but the button on your belly is undone,” and sure enough, I’m wide open, and it’s only going to be seconds before the rest of the buttons follow suit and I’m a naked pregnant lady on the downtown mall and it’s not for a photoshoot for a magazine cover, it’s just because I obviously can’t dress myself and really, I just want to be at home lounging in a pair of socks.
It’s all very funny, of course. But really, this dressing thing is getting tiring – never mind the walking and working and not sleeping and chasing two year old daughter things…