Elastic-tastic

I put on my jeans today and thought, 'In another week, I won't be able to squeeze myself into these!'.  I enjoyed a week at work, wearing trousers and dresses that were feeling just a little too tight.  A lovely light beige fitted shift dress has been hung up in the back of the closet after I strained its stitches with my emerging bump.  I said goodbye to it until next year.

I sit now in leggings and a slouchy top.  This is my evening uniform and I fear that elasticated waistbands are about to become my new best friend.  Thom and I made our way into town the other day and picked up some simple but stretchy-fabric dresses so I won't need to face the world naked as the weeks progress.  My mother is also sending some clothes, wisely in a size or two larger than I'd be ready to choose for myself.

Feels strange living in a body that is slightly different than my own.  The sensations of it within my clothes or washing in the shower feel odd.  It's changing quicker than my mind can adjust.  Yes, the stomach is bigger.  But that creates more issues than simple waistband selection.  I realised that its protruding was limiting how much I can see and the interior of my belly button may have been a little neglected.  It took some yogi-like bending to see if I had cleaned it well enough today in the shower.  Doesn't feel like me and it hasn't felt very attractive.

From the front, most people can't tell.  It still looks like I have a waist, but when I turn to the side - BOOM-  a round bump.  The belly protrusion is the obvious issue, but I must also share that two other things are getting in the way.  Boobs - almost the bigger issue right now (excuse the pun).  Squeezing into bras is a literally a pain.

Thom is not complaining, nor is he particularly sympathetic on this issue.  Some men on the streets of London seem to share his view.  They don't seem to notice the sticky-out belly as I approach towards them on the pavement and today one called me 'sexy' as I passed.  Me?  The one waddling towards the tube, inelegantly shoving a nectarine into her mouth not caring that the juice is dripping all over my hands, down my top and my face?  Ok, I'll take that.  Hey, everyone, evidently pregnant is sexy.