And the saga continues…
I finally broke down and went to the mall just now to buy a few plain t-shirts in the FIRST maternity section I came to. There would be NO “shopping” or “browsing”. I was going to be in and out and not be detected by ANYONE. The first place I saw? I didn’t even know the name of (Motherhood) until I left. They had pregnant women on the displays – that’s all I needed to know.
I walked in and IMMEDIATELY started suffering an INSANE anxiety attack where I felt paranoid and guilty. Like, What the HELL am I doing in a MATERNITY store? I mean, I know I’m pregnant, but I’m probably going to miscarry so surely this is deception on some level, right? They are totally going to see right through me and kick me out. How do I get OUT of here?
Do you SEE how insane I am? From what I understand this is common for “Habitual Aborters” but it doesn’t make it any LESS insane.
I stepped in and after about 3.2 seconds, the lady started TALKING to me. Can you believe that? She began by asking me if I needed help. And I couldn’t even look her in the eye. I just kept thinking Grab a blue shirt and get the HELL out of here. She asked me my due date, and I stammered. She asked me if this was my first pregnancy, and I broke out in a cold sweat. She asked how far along I was and I just ignored her. Then? I found a plain blue shirt and panicked because OH MY GOD, WHAT SIZE DO I WEAR?
So, she led me to a dressing room and promptly called mall security about the KRAZEE pregnant lady who was acting suspicious. She told them to wait and she would notify them if the situation escalated. She handed me an Extra-Small first because I’ve ALWAYS worn XS tops and that’s what I asked for. She probably added that to the list of reason why I was IN-FREAKIN’-SANE. I mean, have you seen me lately? EXTRA SMALL? WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING?
See? I’ve always had size A boobs – size A boobs BELONG in XS tops. That’s what I was thinking.
The top fit beautifully everywhere BUT my boobs. And she asked me the obvious question, “Um, ma’am, what size cup do you wear?” Now – I’ve been ignoring her questions and avoiding eye contact the ENTIRE time I’ve been in the store. But – the second she asks about my boobs? I perked right up and said “A C-Cup, probably needing a D-Cup now…because my boobs have NOT stopped growing in 18 weeks.” And then I just talked and talked and talked about my boobs to this complete stranger who just wanted to help me find a top. We decided, since my boobs would just get BIGGER, I should get a size small top, and leave the xtras smalls to women with SMALL boobs.
So I left – wearing a shirt with no stains and carrying a bag of basic tanks and tees to hold me over a few weeks. I was very proud I kicked my anxiety long enough to tell the woman about the fact that my boobs were SO small I had to have B-cup pads sewn into my wedding dress less than TWO YEARS ago. Why did I have to tell her that? I don’t know. More importantly – why could I tell her THAT but not answer the question, “how far along are you?” I’m sick, I tell you. If you see me out – don’t ask me if I have picked out any names yet. Ask me about my boobs – those I seem to have NO PROBLEM discussing.