Dressing my Postpartum Body, AKA Learning to Laugh at Myself

My daughter was born three months ago, and while my figure is still miles away from where I’d like it to be, it generally doesn’t bother me too much. My body’s most important purpose right now is nourishing her, and if that means some parts are softer and other parts are *ahem* bigger than I would otherwise like them to be, that is just fine.

But accepting my new body and dressing it are two entirely different things.

We are going out of town this week, my first time traveling since Ellie was born. It dawned on me the other day that a vacation means I am going to be out and about and interacting with other people for a solid week and a half. Not to mention, this trip revolves around two very important family events: a graduation and a wedding. The take away? My daily uniform of yoga pants and David’s shirts isn’t going to cut it.

I surveyed my current wardrobe and discovered I had approximately three shirts and one pair of pants that actually fit me. So, birthday money in hand, David, Ellie and I hit the mall!

I was pleasantly surprised by my jean size and not too upset by the new size large shirts I had to purchase to replace my smalls and mediums.

The real adventure came when I went bra shopping.

We got off the elevator on the third floor of Nordstrom where a young, slim sales associate greeted me. She was absolutely adorable and could not have been more than 20 years old. I told her I was looking for a nursing bra but had no idea of my size. She took me back to get measured.

*jaw drop*

You guys. Not cool.

I’m not going to divulge the details, but let’s just say it’s an embarrassingly large size.

The sales associate left the room and returned with two bras for me to try on.

“These are the only nursing bras we had in *insert ungodly size here*.”

I turned around and came face to face with two of the largest, matronly looking bras I have ever seen. Whatever. If they fit and get the job done, I guess I can’t complain.

I was pleasantly surprised when I tried one on. It may have been ugly as sin, but it was definitely comfortable.

Young, skinny sales associate came back in to check the fit, and the following conversation ensued:

Sales Associate: “Well, it looks like it fits pretty well. But… is your right side your smaller side? That cup isn’t fitting as well.”

Me: “It’s currently my smaller side because it’s the side my daughter just nursed on.”

Cue uncomfortable silence and an absolutely horrified look from the sales associate.

“… oh…”

Awesome.

I was tempted to menacingly whisper “this is your future” but decided against it.

Then, to add insult to injury, my body decided to revolt.

That’s right, I leaked all over my yet to be purchased new bra as I was trying it on.

That’s right.

All over.

As I was still trying it on.

Once again, awesome.

Ironically, before leaving for this shopping trip I thought to myself how great it was that I had yet to experience one of those embarrassing leaky boobs in public scenarios.

Serves me right for being cocky.

2 thoughts on “Dressing my Postpartum Body, AKA Learning to Laugh at Myself

  1. Jenia says:

    Oh that is funny! Now that you know your size try Amazon they had some great nursing bras that were really cute! I got super comfortable purple satin one with Edmund and a white and black polka dot one. And clothing shopping is horrible. I’m still having to get new sized and Edmund is 1.

    Like

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