Diving in Head First (and drowning a little)

I passed by that Motherhood Maternity store during my last visit to the mall. It was adorned with sale signs, so I decided to check it out—if I don’t have to pay full price for a maternity muumuu, all the better.

Wow, that was dumb of me...way too much, too soon. I was feeling really weird and uncomfortable as it was but the pregnant mannequin torsos threw me right over the edge. Oh man, that’s going to be me?!

Everywhere I turned there was a big, plastic, pregnant belly—displayed at eye-level—with those band things around them. Big, plastic, pregnant bellies wearing some lame shirt; big, plastic, pregnant bellies in overly-floraled skirts; and the worst one - a big, plastic, pregnant belly in support hose. (Join me in my head for a moment where this scenario is accompanied by the music from Psycho’s shower scene while big, plastic, pregnant bellies zoom in and out of my vision, causing me, my overly-active imagination and my fear that I will never regain abs strong enough to do a sit-up again, to simply freak-out.)

Exit stage left in a cold sweat and with a mental note to bring a wing-woman next time I attempt to shop for me and my bump.