Becoming pregnant completely transformed what had been my favourite pursuit by far – clothes shopping. As my bump got bigger I had no desire whatsoever to buy myself new clothes, with exception to the last two weeks of my pregnancy when absolutely nothing would fit as I’d refused to buy maternity wear and had prior to been able to squeeze myself into my non-waisted regular clothes with the help of New Look’s Belly Bands.
By September that game was up as my feet had swollen to the size a baby elephant would be proud of and my tummy was HUGE. I was facing the grim realisation of having dozens of dozens of pairs of shoes and not owning a single pair that would fit.
At this point I realized how critical shoes really are. Without them you can’t do anything. I had swiftly outgrown two pairs of new shoes I’d already bought to try and accommodate my unrecognizable feet and it was now too cold to wear flip flops (my previous salvation) so I was forced to buy a cheap pair of faux-Uggs as they were the only thing that could accommodate my swollen feet. Luckily I only had to wear these for exactly one week as T arrived early and thankfully my feet immediately shrank back to normal.
Now I’m normal-ish size all over I still have no interest in clothes shopping, unless it’s for Baby T. Instead I’m attempting to reincorporate clothing from my pre-pregnant life into my new life as a mummy. It’s an interesting challenge.
The first obstacle is breastfeeding. For the next 6 months I can only wear clothing that enables easy access to feed T. It’s also cold in England, I’d become acclimatised to LA year round sunshine, so I have to make sure I wear layers to stay warm, even when indoors.
The next obstacle is I use the baby carrier pretty much every day, so I have to wear flat shoes, trainers or boots at all times. I’ve not even tried on the heels I had to give up reluctantly in the early stages of my pregnancy – there’s not point as I just can’t wear them. Besides, as I’d been living in California nearly all my shoes are open-toed which just doesn’t work in rainy, autumnal London.
The final hurdle is T’s digestion. I have a lovely little baby who just happens to struggle to keep her milk down. On an average day she’s sick in my bra at least twice and by the end of the day all of my clothes need washing. Our machine is on non-stop, the ratio for T’s loads v my loads v my husband’s is something like 10:3:1. I’ve been forced to put all of my dry-clean only clothes in temporary storage. T’s also starting to gain control of her hands so earrings and necklaces are becoming dangerous and will have to be abandoned.
After you apply all of the above filters it doesn’t leave many stylish options. I have tons of dresses I love but I can’t wear them. It turns out nearly all of my skirts are dry clean so they’re out too. Consequently I’m wearing variations of the same outfit on a daily basis – converse, jeans, vest top, jumper. I’d spent weeks while heavily pregnant dreaming of my old clothes and I’m still dreaming. Little did I know I’d have to wait till T is fully weaned before I could wear them again. Roll on spring…
Not So Yummy Mummy’s life turned upside down in the space of a few months when she got married, quit her job in LA and Moved to London. She’s now adjusting to life as a full-time, first-time mum.
Photo credit: suviko
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