Perception, Part 2: The Mirror Can't Talk

Yesterday, I shared some lessons I learned about perception: what others assume about a person or situation based on what they observe or are told.

Today, I want to talk about how we see ourselves.  And how it might change your life.

Recently, I became aware of Project Semicolon and its beautiful, ambitious, faith-based mission to decrease acts of suicide and self-harm among people dealing with depression and other mental health issues.  Although I've never explicitly dealt with depression, I've had some very dark pages in my life.  Had I made some different choices, I know that my life could be very different right now.  I also know that there is still a stigma surrounding mental health, especially among the Christian community.  There's this awful idea that it's "all in your head" and that you can "pray it away".  I'm not doubting that God heals.  Believe me, I'm one of those folks who enjoys tent revivals and healing meetings, and I've seen some pretty amazing stuff.

But.  BUT.

I also know enough to know that God works in many ways, and that some people's path to healing involves medication, treatment, therapy, a holistic approach and/or surgery. And maybe somethings else.

Friendship.

I say all of that to share a little experiment undertook last week.  I asked my social media friends - many of whom I am no longer close with in "real life" - to share their honest perception of me.  In a word, a phrase, a memory.  It wasn't a bid for flattery, though I admit I was hoping that some nice things would be said.  I heard back from about a dozen and a half people, ranging from family to folks I haven't seen in over a decade.  Their responses surprised me.

Yes, many of them said "nice" things, but what interested me the most was that no one said "Christian", "writer", "mom" or "plus-size" - the four words I find I use to describe myself all the time.  Other folks distilled their impressions of me into words like "real", "frank", "bubbly", and "accepting" (that one surprised me).  An old friend from high school relayed a few touching, nostalgic thoughts, but the phrase that stands out to me is "you took the high road".

That's weird, because I don't see myself that way.  Not really.  I'd use the words I mentioned above, and I'd add "selfish", "talented", "intelligent", "perceptive" and probably "articulate".  I'd add "needy", "introverted", "anxious", "hurting", "guilty" and "thoughtless".  
We are often our own worst critics.  Isn't that what they say?  In asking my friends this potentially loaded question, I learned that the way most of them perceive me is very, very different from the way I see myself.  

I realized that I want to live the way they see me.  Not the way I see myself.  They see in me light, and strength, and optimism.  I don't just want to be seen that way; I want to truly be that way.  I want to see myself that way.  Not only because those things are all good things, but because, as a Christian, I believe those things reflect Christ in me.  All of those attributes are not unique to religious people, of course, but, for me, they are an outward sign of inward hope.  

I didn't think that such a simple request on social media would impact me as much as this has.  I mentioned Project Semicolon earlier because I am hoping that anyone reading this - anyone struggling with self-harm or depression - might be encouraged by knowing how people see them.  That their lives matter.  That losing them really would make a negative impact on the world around them.  I'm not saying that hearing "I think you're special" is going to magically cure people of self-image issues.  But I know that those words have power, and positivity matters.  

From memeblender.com.

On a side note, one of my friends answered my question with the word "cats" and it made me laugh.  She was totally accurate, of course, and I know I've styled myself as a cat lady since Thor wound up on our doorstep, but yes, in a word, I suppose I can be described as "cat" - craving solitude, needy, faithful, somewhat critical, tending towards vanity, fun to curl up with (when I'm in the mood), and polarizing.

I like seafood, too.

#CATS.

Perception, Part 1: Shawn

I love to learn.

When I was a kid, I used to read the encyclopedia.  As a pre-teen, I rejected the banal "Goosebumps" series in favor of books about Greek, Roman and Norse mythology.  I elected to become a Coffee Master at Starbucks because I had the chance to explore more about something I loved.  In nearly every job I've held, I've wound up training or teaching others, because I get excited to share what I learn.

Fabulous Twilight Sparkle GIF found at
 alicemarvels.com.

I learned a lot in college about literature, theatre, and relating to people who are different than me.  I learned a lot in church about my faith and my relationship with God and people.  I learned a lot from my parents (all of them) about life in general, and about myself in particular.

But some of the lessons that have made the biggest impact on my life came from one person in particular: Shawn Speir.

Shawn was my store manager when I worked at the Starbucks in Robinson.  He'd been a shift supervisor when I joined the Starbucks family (well, then it WAS more like a family) in Collier right out of college.  We got along very well, despite numerous differences, and he quickly adopted me as both his little sister and his pet project.  He saw potential in me and he worked hard to help me improve both my hard and soft skills.  Both of us were promoted rather quickly, I to a supervisor and he to an assistant manager.  I remember being crushed the day we learned he was being promoted again, and would no longer be working with us.  He was getting his own store.  I had grown so fond of him and was learning so much from him that I couldn't bear the thought of him leaving.  That week, though, he pulled me aside and told me he wanted me to go with him.  

I probably should make it clear at this point that there was no romance between us.  Despite one person's accusation that we were "involved", I can tell you with absolute certainty that Shawn was not interested in me.  Nor I in him.  Although I must admit, until I met Ross, I was convinced that Shawn had the most beautiful eyes on the planet.

But I digress.

At any rate, hearing him say he wanted to take me, to help me work towards my own goal, which was to become an assistant manager, made my heart happy.  I learned how to drive just so my dad no longer had to take me to work (Collier was just up the road, but Robinson was a different story).  

The reason I share all of this is that Shawn had the unenviable task of teaching me some extremely hard lessons.  He took me on as his own project, took responsibility for me, and in some cases forced me to improve myself as a barista, a manager, and a person.  I remember so many private conversations in the back room on the store, where he'd flail about, hysterically angry about something, then immediately compose himself, return to the sales floor, and address a customer or barista with absolute respect and utter calm.  He was so careful never to crack in front of people.  I, too, found myself angry or upset about something beyond my control, and Shawn would carefully, quietly whisper in my ear to leave the floor and take a break.  Sometimes he'd follow me and clearly, frankly explain what I was doing wrong - it was my attitude, or my tone, or whatever.  Because I knew that he loved me - yes, I like to think we'd grown to love each other like siblings - and because I knew that everything he said was coming from a desire to improve me, I received the criticism.  Sometimes, I responded flatly that I didn't like him or was going to cry, and he nodded and told me to finish my ten-minute break.  

He never gave up on me.

But that wasn't the most important thing I learned from Shawn.

I learned that "perception is reality".

What that means is that a customer doesn't notice or care if you just accidentally spilled a 200 degree Americano all over your arm, because all he sees is you NOT making his latte, and he decides you're lazy or slow.

What that means is that your supervisor doesn't care that you're discussing a very difficult break-up with a co-worker, because all she sees is that you're not making your requisite follow-up calls, and she decides you're avoiding work.

What that means is that it doesn't matter if you want to glorify God, because all people hear coming out of your mouth is condemnation, and they decide that religion isn't worth it.

It's true that we can't decide how other people see us, or our situations.  Each person makes his or her own decisions.  About everything.  And the media is the proof of that.  We see a report about a man being gunned down, and a whole campaign rises up about that, despite the facts about the case not being released.  A celebrity tweets her thoughts about a situation halfway across the globe and she is hailed as a hero for mentioning it.  An overweight woman puts on clothes that make her feel comfortable and pretty, and strangers splash her photo all over Instagram, labeling her with unkind words.

We control our own actions.  We can even control our thoughts.  (I share about that here.) And, though we cannot control others' perceptions of ourselves, we can take those perceptions into consideration when we act.  I'm not saying that we need to tread on eggshells around every person, on every issue, but taking care with our word choices, our tone, our body language - all of that goes a long way in regards to how people see us.

In my next post, I'll share why perception is such a big deal - and how it can change your life.

Thigh Gap Vs. Thigh Clap

By now, you've heard the phrase "thigh gap", right?  It is yet another nearly impossible goal for women to aim for as they attempt to lose enough weight and work out enough so that, when they stand with their knees together, their thighs do not touch.  For the sake of beauty, of course.

Thigh gap will get you likes on Instagram.  Thigh gap will not do much else.  It, of course, will not land you a great-paying job or earn you an education.  It will not "snag you a man" or encourage people to respect and admire you.

(Please ignore the punctuation error in the above
image from someecards.com.) 

I don't have thigh gap.  I mean, I did when I was like four, but it wasn't a thing back then, so whatever.  I have what I like to refer as "thigh clap".  Regardless of my weight, my thighs rub together when I walk.  That's the way many women are built.  Our legs, they cheer us on.  They move us.  Sometimes they look appealing in skinny jeans.  Sometimes they don't.  Some of us live in A-line skirts to hide our thighs, and some of us embrace them with jeggings and cut-off shorts.  Meghan Trainor says boys like bigger girls, right?  

(Please do not get me started on how disappointed I am with the twisted message she is sending a whole generation.  I don't have time for that post now.)

Most people who know me are aware that I've struggled with my weight most of my life.  There have been various reasons for it, and I can blame anything from heredity to asthma to gluttony to flat-out apathy, but shifting the blame never made me feel better, nor did it even help me become healthier.  Like many women, I've suffered through the rollercoaster of fluctuating weight.  I have "fat" clothes and "not-as-fat" clothes.  I've fit into everything from a size 6 to a size 14 and a small to an extra-extra large.  I've loved my reflection; I've hated it.  I've scornfully skimped on calories and I've furtively embraced them like a clandestine lover.

To combat the "skinnier is better" rhetoric, plenty of body acceptance movements have emerged.  Women purposely post photos of themselves, proudly wearing clothing they "shouldn't".  Companies have launched campaigns designed to showcase curvier and heavier body types.  A size 22 model has been signed to a major label.  Catchy pop songs talk lasciviously about thick booties and sexy, wide hips.

But what's it all for?  Celebrities we love - especially curvy ones - continue to photoshop their own images on social media.  Fat kids still get mocked on the playground.  Heavier men and women still have to pay an extra $2 for larger sizes.  And we (me included) still buy Spanx!  I admit that I am sometimes one of the naysayers who doubts when seeing an image of an obese person insisting he/she is in "perfect health".  Yet then I feel guilty, thinking that it's not my place to judge.  But am I judging?  Or am I concerned?  Am I relieved?  Am I justifying my own appearance my comparing it to another's?  

I - as a petite, plus-sized woman - still feel shame when I have to pull on my "fat pants".  I still berate myself when I feel that I eat too many calories in a day.  I still throw some serious side eye when I see the teens in the mall sporting their itty-bitty crop tops and their high-waisted shorts.  I still struggle in the knowledge that my husband loves me and wants me, regardless of how I see myself.  I constantly walk the line between wanting to love my body exactly as it is - and wanting to force it to change so I feel better about it.  It's a daily battle.  Even when I feel beautiful in the morning - my hair is bouncy, I'm trying a new lip color, or I'm sporting my favorite chunky shoes - when I see a woman I perceive as more beautiful than me, I feel like shriveling up.  

I hate it.

I hate feeling, in my mind, like I am constantly in competition with other women.  It doesn't even make sense.  What do I gain?  What do I prove?  Does her beauty diminish mine?  Do I lose value in her presence?  It isn't even something I consciously do.  Thoughts just pop into my head, and I realize I'm focusing more on what the girl in the Starbucks line is wearing than I am about the cute little baby in my stroller, or the blessings in my life.

Worst of all, I still seem to think that God's love for me depends on my appearance.

Even seeing that thought actually typed out makes me sick.

The Creator of the Universe, who loved me enough to send his Son to die for me - is actually judging me based on the size pants I wear?

It's funny because it's true.
Image from someecards.com.

More likely, his heart is breaking because I am letting my figure affect my joy and peace.  More likely, his desire is for me to make healthy choices that allow me to enjoy his creation more.  More likely, he wants me to know that he made me the way he did for a reason.  And that he gave me the ability to make decisions that positively impact my health and my self-image.  

He gave me legs so I could walk and run.  And become healthier.  

He just wants to walk alongside me.  And he doesn't care in the least if my thighs touch or not. 

Yay, God!

Look.  It's nice to hear, but the point of this post is not for people to feel obligated to tell me I'm pretty.  In some people's eyes, I'm sure I am.  Others see me as overweight, or they see large pores, or split ends, or calloused heels.  They see cellulite or ragged fingernails.  Okay.  Deep down, I do know that I am beautiful.  In many ways.  It's a shame that the same society that scorns women who don't meet the accepted standard of beauty also mocks those with the audacity to openly consider themselves beautiful.  So, I can think it, and I should act like it, but I shouldn't say it, because then I'm selfish and vain.  

I don't know if there will ever be any kind of real resolution on this issue.  I'd like to say that "healthy" is the sexiest kind of body, but even that has a million definitions to a million people.  I'm just deciding that I have to love my body for both its current limitations as well as its potential.  There are a thousand words to describe it - curvy, pale, soft, short, basic, cute, chubby, zaftig (that's my favorite) - but only one that actually matters:

Mine.

And it's the only one I get.

It's time to be grateful for that, no matter what society tells me I should be wearing, or weighing, or eating, or thinking.  I am grateful for my body.

Weighing In - A Heavy Matter

Recently, Weight Watchers has been airing a pretty clever little radio spot I've been hearing a lot. It talks about how we (as middle class Americans, I'm guessing) are losing our ability to tell when we're hungry, versus when we're bored, upset, or tired. That, and my stepmum's recent 50-pound weight loss (you go, girl!), got me thinking. What kind of eater have I become?

When I was trying to lose weight in 2013, I became a calorie counter. I was concerned about sodium and a few other nutrients, but mostly, it was the calories that got me. I was willing to eat a rich, delicious donut for a meal once in a while, as long as my total calorie consumption was within reason. When I added regular exercise, I lost 18 pounds in about 5 months. That's nothing spectacular, but slow-and-steady worked for me, and at my slimmest, I was still medically considered overweight. Still, I felt confident, attractive, and healthy.  

Then, one complicated pregnancy and recovery later, I'm back at my original weight. The confidence I had gained when I was thinner, which manifested itself in a more fun fashion sense and experimentation, still remains, for the most part. I had to pack away a lot of my "skinny" clothes, but I'm certainly not giving anything away just yet!

Today, I restarted my calorie-counting routine. Some people go organic. Some prepare only whole foods. Some cut sugar. Or artificial sweeteners. Some stop snacking between meals. I think that, because people have such different needs and such different habits, there are plenty of methods that work. I'm a person who dislikes but NEEDS routine. I had to exercise at the same time each day (my lunch break at work) and record my calories as soon as I ate them. So, it's back to it.

After some thought, I've realized that I'm not really a person who "eats my feelings". I'm generally more of what I call an "opportunity eater". If food is available, then I'm all up in that. (This makes gatherings with lots of food a huuuuuuuge danger for me.) And grocery day? Coming home with all those delicious packages of unopened food? Getting to try a new recipe with the (gasp!) cauliflower I snagged! I can't even talk about it. Honestly.

It's interesting to me that a plus-size woman has recently been signed to a major modeling company. I think this is a good thing. A very good thing. I do not think, as some do, that we are glorifying or glamorizing obesity in celebrating this. I think we are finally acknowledging that American women would like to have a haute couture model who is not a size zero to admire. We already have a good many women of all different races, builds, and ages to admire who are athletes, writers, actresses, singers, leaders.  The world of modeling is among the last uncharted territories for unconventional body types. "Thin" is a medical fact - more or less. "Sexy" is a state of mind. "Healthy" is a medical diagnosis, charted by blood pressure and BMI. "Happy" is a choice.  

Why do I mention that in the same post as a discussion about weight loss? Because I'm not trying to lose weight to please or impress anyone. I'm not doing it to make myself more attractive. I'm doing it because, right now, I'm not really healthy. My habits aren't healthy. My own self-image isn't always healthy - and obviously, a good self-image something this model has going for her that I do not. But I'm inspired by a lot of healthy and getting-healthy women in my life, and it's really inspirational to see them making changes in their attitudes, their habits, and their lifestyles.

So, the first step to recovery - of any type - is admitting you have a problem, right?  

My name is Rebecca Godlove, and I'm an opportunity eater. But, the good news is...I'm excited to make a change! 

Today is Day One.  

Postcard to the Past - A Letter to My 16-Year-Old Self

Your parents' divorce is one of the best things that could possibly happen to you.

Of course, it doesn't seem that way right now.  You're hurting and you feel betrayed by your dad.  Your mom is struggling to raise you and your sister alone.  The three of you never seem to get along.  It's awful.

But your new step-mother is not a wicked one.  You will both grow together - she as a more confident mother and you as a more mature daughter.  She will never try to replace your mom, and that is exactly how she will succeed at being one.

The little girl who "stole" your Daddy from you will grow into your best friend and confidante.  She will amaze you with wisdom that should be coming from a person much more experienced than she.  

You will be deeply hurt when your biological mother and sister cannot attend your wedding, but these women will stand in their places - not as substitutes, but as shining examples of love that binds where blood does not.

And yes - that means you will find the love of your life.  You will marry the man who loves you for who you are, who loves you because you are strong and you are a Christian and you are curvy and you like pickles and you can quote "Star Wars".  He is out there, and he is fumbling along, the same as you, asking God where you are and making tons of mistakes in the meantime.

Just like you.

Do you remember completing that survey in kindergarten?  The one that asked the question: What do you want to be when you grow up?  You answered: a mommy.  You changed your mind when your parents were divorced because you never wanted to put a child through the hell that you went through.  You will your mind again in college when you begin working with the little ones at church - which will be more fulfilling that you can imagine.

But the road to motherhood will be very difficult for you.  Your first pregnancy will be a surprise and, even though you will be happily married at the time, you will fight feelings of shock and guilt, because you didn't feel you were ready. When you lose the baby three months later, you will fight those same feelings, magnified a hundred times.  The good news is, you will have much support from your family and friends, particularly the women at church, because many of them have endured the same heartache.

You will find strength in your own words.  God will keep you fighting, and your words will be your weapon.  More than it ever has been, your writing will be your lifeline.  Expressing yourself will be the key to unlocking your own feelings and it will help you sort through your troubles.  It will also bless others who are traveling on the same road as you.

You will go on to lose two more children.  The second loss will be the hardest, because this child will be the only one whose heartbeat you actually get to see, a mere week before another ultrasound fails to find life in your womb.

You will be pressed hard, but you will not be crushed.  You will come close to giving up, but you will hold on to hope as your friends surround you, pray for you, encourage you and believe in you.

Your relationship with God will fluctuate, just as it does with your earthly companions.  Some days, you will feel distant from him, wondering why he is allowing you to walk this path.  Others, you will feel wrapped in his love and want to share it with boldness.  

Your relationship with your mother will be similar.  You will learn, much later in life, that you share many of the traits that you found irritating in her, but you will also learn that, in some ways, you are stronger than she is.

Was.

She will die unexpectedly, painfully, and you will find in yourself a silent strength that will carry you through the first few weeks, but you will begin to fall apart in the months that follow.  You will need to reach out to others because you will feel even more alone that you did during your miscarriages.  You will realize that your mother will not be alive when you finally do have your first child.  She will not bake you another birthday cake, or send you another silly letter with colored pencil doodles in it, or share another story about her many adopted pets.  

You will be there when she dies.  You will be the last family member she makes eye contact with, and that fact alone will sustain you in many dark hours.  She saw you.  She knew you came to her.  And she was deeply sorry.

About everything.

Not long after, you will have that little baby you prayed for.  The pregnancy will be fraught with challenges, which will be no surprise to you, but you will eventually hold a precious son in your arms and you will call him your joy and your promise.

Your church family will continue to grow in importance.  You will develop deeper relationships with some of the women than you ever had with your biological sister - who will, sadly, grow far apart from the family - and you will treasure them.  

You will have days which will scare you.  Days which will make you think you inherited your mother's anxiety.  Days which will make you think you are not cut out to be a mother, or a wife, or a friend.  You will have days that make you feel like a champion.  Days that make you believe you can do anything.

You will run a 5K, despite your lifelong challenges with asthma.

You will lose 20 pounds, despite your lifelong struggles with your weight.

You will have beloved pets of your own, despite your diagnosis of allergies.

You will be disappointed, despite your best plans.

You will be surprised, despite your worst fears.

You will keep going when everything in you cries out to lay down and die.

You will doubt yourself and hate yourself and love yourself and respect yourself.

You will live a lifetime and a half in the next sixteen years, and then you will gaze into the past with pity and envy and admiration for your sixteen-year-old self.

The last thing you will say before returning, in your mind, to the present, is:

It gets worse, but then it gets so much better.  It's always too soon to give up.

Surprises

As I continue to adjust to my role as a mom, I have to admit, there were a few surprises that no one prepared me for - even the wisest and most experienced mamas I know.  Some turned out to be pleasant and others, well...you'll see.

1. My skin grew up.  In a good way.  I suffered for a very long time with acne.  I mean - we're talking over twenty years of my life, trying Noxema and Clearasil and Pro-Activ and three different medications from the dermatologist and countless other treatments, and virtually nothing worked long-term.  The closest I came was with the oil-cleansing method, but even that wasn't fool-proof.  My skin was pretty clear during my pregnancy, which I knew isn't usually the case.  So I buckled down and prepared for the worst when the hormones shifted after the baby came.  Nothing changed.  I am insanely grateful, and now leave the house without make-up more frequently.  Of course, people still seem to think I'm "sick" or "tired" without it, but that's life.

2. Never change a diaper immediately after a poop.  This one probably is SUCH a no-brainer to most moms that they don't even think of it as useful advice.  I figured it out on my own, and we won't get into any details, but I have a 60-second rule now with changing a diaper full of number two.

3. Formula is freeing.  This one doesn't apply to everyone, but it did for me.  After several weeks of attempted nursing, and lots of emotional trauma, we finally elected to exclusively formula-feed our little guy.  In spite of the heated mommy wars surrounding this topic, we've found that it works best for our family.  In my case, nursing was such a painful and frustrating experience that I grew to dread it.  Heaven forbid I should be in public when the baby got hungry.  I felt forced to make a hasty retreat home, red-faced and shameful.  I didn't want to feed in public because it made me uncomfortable - not to mention, after seven weeks, baby still couldn't get the swing of things.  For us, formula has allowed the rest of the family to participate more in caring for the baby, as well as given us more mobility.  

4. It's okay NOT to worry.  Wanting a (cheap) date night, my husband and I planned to see Guardians of the Galaxy at a local cinema's $5 night right up the road from my parents' house.  We left the baby and a bag full of supplies with them and I am not joking when I say that not an ounce of worry entered my mind.  I knew my parents were going to shower him with love, and my step-mom's extensive experience with children and babies certainly was a comfort, too.  I felt guilty only because I thought I was supposed to wail and cry and mourn about my first time away from my newborn.  Nope.  See #3 above.

5.  Babies are noisy.  I'm not talking about the crying.  I mean, I had no idea that this dude was going to grunt like a billy goat and sigh and sniffle and growl and shriek and hiss.  The first few times these sounds erupted forth from my tiny infant, I just stood there with my head cocked to the side, assuming that one of the cats had snuck into the room and was making terrifying bleating noises.  But no - cats don't typically do that, either.  On the plus side: he's cooing now and it is the best sound in the whole world since the beginning of time.

6. Nothing can prepare you for the NICU experience.  Especially if you've gotten this far after dealing with infertility or pregnancy loss, you might think you're invincible.  The worst has already happened and no matter what, things will be okay once the baby is delivered.  Not true.  Even though our little boy was only in for nine days, and received wonderful care, those days were some of the hardest and most miserable we've ever experienced.  Not only was I in emotional and physical pain from an emergency c-section, but every time we visited the baby, the updates changed - not always for the better.  My heart will always go out to parents whose babies are in the NICU, no matter what the circumstance.

7. The first time someone questions a decision you've made, your heart will break.  And your world will dim for a moment, and you'll panic and you'll stumble and you'll wonder if you're a terrible parent and you'll re-evaluate every single plan of action you'd considered.  But then, chances are, you'll realize that you're doing the best you can in your situation, for your family.  And you'll learn to handle people sneering because you're not breastfeeding...or sneering because you are breastfeeding.  And, when your baby smiles at you, the haughty look you got from that random old lady at Sheetz after a misguided and awkward conversation about homeschooling...well, that doesn't matter at all.  Not.  At.  All.

Any other first-time moms get some unexpected surprises - pleasant or otherwise? - when baby was born?

Pregnant and Pretty, Part Two

Shop your closet!

That should be the #1 tip from pregnancy and newborn magazines.  Instead of blasting us with images of "must-have" $60 sundresses and $45 skinny jeans, we should be advised that plenty of non-maternity duds can last us for at least two trimesters - sometimes all three.

Case in point: leggings!  I stocked up last fall and winter, and non-maternity styles still fit me, nearly seven months along.  My favorite brand, at about $6 a pop, is George, carried by Wal*Mart.  I have at least four pairs: in black, gray, eggplant and chocolate.  Some are footed versions, some are not; they're all totally opaque.  (If you're wrinkling your nose because I shop at such a big-box store, just remember - we are doing pregnancy on the cheap!  If you prefer organic cotton, sourced and made in the USA, that's awesome!  Go for it!  But that means my ideas probably won't inspire you very much!)  

Those leggings don't get worn with tiny tops, of course.  I have discovered that most of my swingy, flashy, Empire-waisted tunic tops (purchased mostly at Ross Dress for Less, usually for $13 or under) make fabulous maternity dresses.  In fact, Five Below has sundresses for $5 that seem to be nursing-friendly.  They're cheaply made and probably won't last long, but are great for around-the-house wear.  I'm planning on getting a few more.  They're kind of like really cute, knee-length muumuus.  I also like to add waterfall sweaters (very thin ones, since I've tended to feel warm most of the time during my pregnancy), with or without stretch belts.  In the fall and winter, I paired them with the leggings and boots.  

Which brings me to the topic of shoes.  Ladies, trust me: I am all about the shoe.  I have wedges, ballet flats, heels, flip-flops, gladiator sandals, knee-high boots, ankle boots, stilettos, and some rather saucy footwear that probably should not be worn in public.  I love shoes.  Love them!  I have been very loath to stick to "sensible" styles during my pregnancy.  Flats might be comfy but they aren't always very flattering on me.  But I have learned that your center of gravity really does change the further your pregnancy progresses, and shoes with a very high or thin heel simply aren't safe.  They should be restricted to special events only - and bring a pair of flats with you, just in case.  For my part, I compromised.  I found a pair of $25 Crocs (yes, I know, CROCS) at the outlet store.  They're black wedges which are both very comfortable and very flattering.  They've got a sturdy, rubberized 3 1/2 heel that gives me height and confidence, but they feel almost like sneakers.  They've become my everyday work shoes, since my office manager allows me to forego the (unreasonably expensive) maternity scrubs and wear business casual clothes for the time being.  In addition, if you'll be heavily pregnant in the summer, stick to slip-on styles for your sandals.  Or count on your partner to buckle your gladiators for you every time, because chances are you won't be able to reach them yourself!

Another money-saver is the maxi-dress.  Most styles come in forgiving or stretchy materials, and can be easily dressed up or dressed down.  If you're a shorty like me, most maxi styles are too long for you anyway, but the addition of the bump makes them the perfect length!  (After the bump disappears, you can employ your super-cute lace-up espadrille wedges again.)  Again, I found several styles at stores like Ross Dress for Less, TJMaxx, Marshalls, and Burlington.  I'm fairly certain that I didn't spend more than $25 on any of them, and most were $15 and under.

Let's talk about intimate apparel.  Without delving into too many details, your best bet is to stick with simple cotton panties and to purchase one or two new bras as your bustline changes during pregnancy.  I never thought I would be singing the praises of a non-underwire style, but I actually love the Genie Bra (again, I found it at Wal*Mart for around $15, which is $5 less than the advertised price everywhere else).  It's supportive and comfortable, even for a larger bust.  I'll probably be using it when I breastfeed too, since it stretches to accommodate various sizes.  I'll probably buy several more if it works out, because the idea of dropping loads of cash on a nursing bra makes me queasy.  After all, you're supposed to buy at least three, they say: one to wear, one to wash, one to have ready to go.  That could easily be upwards of $100.  Most specialty shops, though, do have reasonable prices.  Motherhood Maternity, for one, surprised me with a variety of very comfortable-looking bras priced around $20 to $25 each.  I don't find that unreasonable, but I haven't tried any on yet.  

In fact, I haven't set foot in a specialty shop during this pregnancy.

I'm fortunate, in a way, to be among the last in my circle of gal-pals to have a baby.  That means that I have gotten about three garbage bags full of maternity clothes. mostly from my friend Jaime.  (I'm also lucky she's kind of a fashionista, because these clothes are cute!)  That being said, don't shun anything that's offered to you, even if it doesn't seem to be your style - or size.  Jaime and I have dramatically different builds, but most of the clothes she gave me fit anyway.  If nothing else, pick out a few things you like and hold on to the rest.  Chances are, that generous Mama will eventually want them back to get her through another pregnancy.  By that time, you might be able to throw in a few of your own maternity-friendly clothes, and then the whole process can start over again!

My final word of advice for this post is simple: eBay!  You can find such amazing deals online and in thrift and consignment shops!  If you're buying online and you're worried about the fit, make sure to purchase from a seller who accepts returns.  A lot do not, and it's eBay's policy to allow that, so read carefully before you bid.  I picked up a very cute white sundress with thick black straps that retailed at Motherhood Maternity for about $50.  Since the seller was not charging for shipping and I was the only bidder, I ended up paying around $13.  I'll be wearing this dress all summer!  I also found two office-friendly dresses (one of which is also appropriate for nursing), and they each sold in stores for probably about $30.  I think I paid about $9 each, as shipping was free for those, too.  All of them fit just fine, even though I couldn't try anything on.  


Next week, if I can convince my husband to play the fashion photographer, I'll be posting some pictures of outfits I've put together!

Pregnant and Pretty, Part One

I'm sure I am in the majority of pregnant women who prefer nothing more than wearing stretchy yoga pants, soft, comfy T-shirts, and pulling their hair up into messy buns.  Wait a minute...isn't that most women, pregnant or not?

Fun...but not functional (or safe) for a lady in her
 third trimester!  These can wait until after baby.
 Image from fabsugar.com.

Yup - it's one of those strange facts about being female.  Although we want to be as comfy as dudes in their well-worn jeans and 80s T-shirts, we make different choices for the sake of fashion.  Frequently, we love to wear gloriously gorgeous shoes that are impractically high, stunning dresses that force us to reposition our boobs every five minutes or so, and pants that require us to perform an awkward calisthenics routine just to get into them.  We like to feel pretty, and often the route to feeling pretty is a painful one.  I'm not being sexist here; I'm just speaking from personal experience and, if I may humbly say, I'm acting as the voice of many, not all, of my female friends.  We often suffer needlessly for the sake of beauty, and frequently, people never notice our efforts anyway!  (Unless things go horribly wrong and we trip over our mile-high stilettos like baby deer learning how to walk...)

At least, in the past few years, women's fashion has generally seemed to take a turn for "cute and comfy" over "pretty and painful".  I'm talking about boat shoes, thick-calf-friendly boots, surprisingly forgiving skinny jeans, knee-skimming shorts (hallelujah!), and the return of the cropped cardigan (great for modest chickies and/or fashionably frozen girls who insist on wearing sundresses when it's still 50 degrees outside).

The desire to feel pretty certainly doesn't go away when pregnancy comes along.  In fact, maybe it's even stronger! With the frequently ugly symptoms that come along with the efforts of growing a tiny human, it's only natural for a woman to want to feel both attractive and comfortable in her own skin - and her own clothes.  With that in mind, and with my own recent experience, I thought it might be fun to put together my own little fashion show for any girls out there who might be ripping through their closets in a panic, fearing what the next nine months might bring.

First, a little bit about me, if you didn't already know: even before I got pregnant, I was always a hard-to-fit size.  I'm five feet tall and quite curvy.  I'd lost a good deal of weight last year and was about a size four or six (small/medium) or so in ladies' clothing, maybe a seven or nine (medium/large) in juniors.  I won't share my measurements but, to be delicate, my bustline makes it very tough to buy properly-fitting button-down shirts, so there are very few in my wardrobe.  I joke that I easily have a supermodel's measurements; it's just too bad I don't have a supermodel's height!

I'm happy to report that many of my pre-pregnancy clothes have carried over well and I'm hoping they'll still work postpartum, too.  I like bright colors but am always comfortable in basic black with fun accessories.  Also: I'm extremely cheap.  Unlike my husband, who would rather invest $80 in a pair of well-crafted shoes that will get him through several years, I'm more likely to drop $15 on a pair of colorful flats that might wear out in a season or two, just because they're fun.  This is both a blessing and a curse, as female fashion is fickle.  Sometimes it's not worth investing in "quality" merchandise because trends change so quickly.  Then again, sometimes those cheap shoes are so darn uncomfortable that I only wear them a few times anyway.  With that in mind, I'm noting the pros and cons, as well as the approximate prices, of the items I'm featuring in my multi-part little fashion show, so you can decide for yourselves what's worth it and what's not!  

Before I even talk about the clothes, I wanted to mention a few other options we preggos now have.  Unlike lots of other women, I never used a BellaBand or anything like it.  If you don't know, these stretchy little numbers are meant to be worn snugly around your waist and hold up your unbuttoned jeans when you're still too small for regular maternity pants.  Since I have practically no waistline, and also because I bloated up pretty fast, I did not find these items useful or comfortable.  My jeans didn't fit at all past about the eighth week or so, so I didn't wear them.  Still, they are an investment to consider, especially during a first pregnancy when you might take quite some time to show, or if you have a very different body type than mine!

Another helpful accessory, near the end of your pregnancy, is a maternity belt.  They come in loads of sizes and styles, and help support your growing belly while relieving back strain.  You might consider purchasing a gently used one, as they can be quite expensive.

Some other things that benefitted me have been accessories!  Yes, the joy of the one-size-really-does-fit all scarf, the earrings that never get too tight, and the "I've-been-wearing-these-since-college" bangle bracelets! Since I like bold prints and funky jewelry, I've scoured discount stores for fun necklace sets, whimsical infinity scarves and even belly-friendly stretch belts.  These items are great for making statements and dressing up the inevitable boring but comfy maternity dress you can't live without, and the best part is that they'll stick with you well after the baby comes.  (Additional bonus: those flashy green and purple beaded earrings will be fascinating and stimulating for your little guy or girl during feedings!)

Image from jordanacosmetics.com

Another area in which I've been enjoying experimenting is with cosmetics.  Now, since most women find that their skin changes during pregnancy, I'm not advocating a total overhaul of your cleansing and beauty routine.  I'm one of the fortunate ones who has enjoyed (for the first time in 22 years) acne-free skin.  That's not to say I haven't had any problems; my skin is definitely less smooth now, and I've seen a few dark spots that are "supposed" to clear up after I deliver.  What's been fun is trying the new, super-vivid colors that are out now: bright corals, vampy reds, poppy oranges and bubble-gum pinks.  I love the new color balms that most companies have released lately.  They've got the coverage of lipsticks, but they apply and feel like glosses.  My favorites come from Jordana and Rimmel (surprise; they're also among the least expensive drug-store brands; Jordana is available at K-Mart and Walgreens and Rimmel is available nearly everywhere).  Bright colors, if you're comfortable with them, are a good way to draw attention from your belly to your face.  If you want to, that is!  Maybe you want your bump to play a starring role?  I'll address that in part two of this series!