Greetings, Frockers! Where do I even begin?! Well, sometimes, when two people love each other very much…one of them ends up with 30 extra lbs, sausage-like fingers, and the absence of a belly button. Oh, and then allegedly there's a baby and it’s super squishy and exciting, but I have yet to confirm that part!
Anyway, as someone who LOVES the creative process of getting dressed in the morning, pregnancy has presented a number of challenges and frustrations. In those early days of adjusting to my new hormonal imbalance, I’ll admit that I cried about my wardrobe more than once. Okay, like lots of times. Each time I would try on a dress that I could no longer zip or button and I would have to relegate it to the "sometime after pregnancy?" closet upstairs, I was a bit crestfallen. The idea of buying maternity clothes didn’t appeal to me, as I don’t plan to be “in the family way” ever again, and I didn’t want to waste money on dresses I’d only wear a few times that would likely be ugly. So. For much of my pregnancy I made the following work:
-tent or smock style dresses
-70’s/80’s polyester dresses with elastic waists
In the last trimester, I have had to succumb to a few maternity pieces, most of which I got second-hand. In the end, I have to admit they worked better than awkwardly stuffing my Winnie-the-Pooh-esqe physique into a belly band and trying to conceal my new backfat with cardigans, all in the name of making a vintage piece work. It turns out that they make special clothes for pregnancy for a reason, and it’s not just a scam created by the patriarchy (although pregnancy itself might be??). Below are some of my favorite dresses I’ve worn throughout, most which you may have seen on my ‘grams. (The first three are from Scout, the gingham one is Lions Mane Vintage).
When Hello Holiday dropped this mother’s day collection just weeks before my due date, part of me was like, “OMG PERFECT TIMING, SO CUTE!” and then the other part was like, “Ew…am I ready to self-identify as a mother?”
Among the thousands of things I have found to be anxious about during pregnancy, one of the most persistent has been this idea of being called someone’s mom. For me, the word “mom” is fraught with emotional baggage and general ickiness (which I’m totes working out with my therapist, so don’t worry!). Aside from my personal negative connotations, there’s also this broader idea of moms that we’ve all been fed, and it ain't pretty. I recently read this book:
It was difficult to read, because it was both so relatable for me and so undeniably negative. But my hang-ups with this “mom” business were perfectly captured in this passage from the book:
Who wanted to be a mother anyway? Mom called to mind a relationship with someone, not an individual. A mom was your servant. A mom wore a white, collared shirt and stood at the kitchen island selling cereal in television commercials. Moms took up whole sidewalks with their goddamn strollers. Moms nagged. I knew it was all internalized misogyny…but I still couldn’t quite get around it. There was no mother I wanted to be.
Anyway, at the risk of sounding like Carrie Bradshaw, I had to wonder-- what if the first step to defining and accepting this label "mom" was something as simple as wearing it on a cute t-shirt?
Maybe it is possible to be myself and be someone's mom.
Hopefully next time I'm writing this blog, I'll have massive bags under my eyes and a suction cup attached to my nipple while Margot is soundly asleep in the next room. <3