Clothes are not my friend this week. I have been a pretty solid size 2 petite since college and as such have been able to recycle the same wardrobe for over a decade. I think at some point this last year, I donned the same tweed suit to a conference that I wore to my first professional interview at the University of Utah (over twelve years ago!). I buy classic styles and as the daughter of any respectable textile salesman would do; I take remarkably good care of my clothes.
But the last few weeks have been difficult.
This stems from two primary issues. The first is that I am a miser. I just can't stomach the thought of buying clothes that I will only wear for a few months. This may not be our only child, but it may be our only pregnancy - and if so there just won't be another opportunity to model this season's Pea in the Pod trends.
The second reason is because I am a little convinced that as a petite woman, I should be able to get away with wearing my regular clothes. Thank God for Chris who convinced me the other day as I was heading out the door to change my blazer. He refrained from telling me that I looked like a ten pound ham in a five pound bag, but I'm sure it's what he was thinking.
The truth is the only thing I find more lovely than my round belly is the gorgeous little boy it cradles. But this belly, attached to my frame? I still do a double-take every time I walk past a full-length mirror.