Thursday, March 26, 2009

Swelling in Dim Lighting

I was standing in only a bra and underwear, in a 3x3 dingy beige, dimly lit room, staring at the mirror, but practicing visualization avoidance techniques. I don't need to see this, I whispered to myself. I listened as the sales lady and my friend discussed my sizes. My friend, in muffled tones, "Hey, you think you need a bigger size?"

Sales lady in loud, ear-cringing, hair-pulling squeak, "Words. Words. Words." I don't know what she was saying. I was too busy cringing and pulling my hair.

I stared at my chest. The bulging mountainous shapes protruding out of the bra that I swear should easily be containing these bad girls. The thought of moving into the double alphabet was not something a formerly B/C girl wanted to consider. That might mean a whole new lifestyle . . . cooler clothes, better friends . . . I might have to eat clams and drink French wine . . .

The bra failed me. Unless I was all for resting my chin on my chest, this would not work. I had created the perfect hiding place for Cheerios or, say, a wrench. I slowly opened the door. My friend squeezed her face through the opening. I asked as I stood straight, shoulders raised trying to diminish their size, "What do you think? Do you think I need a bigger size?" Without a word, she turned around.

"Ma'am. We're gonna need a bigger size," her voice was barely above a whisper. Bless her for not advertising my increasing size to the world. Bless her . . .

"We don't carry a DD," the sales woman shouted. SHOUTED.

I know. I should be beaming with pride. But, when every other bra you try on fits like a rubber band around your chest, when you are staring at legs that look like they are about to fall off due to lack of circulation (I really wish some things remained a secret, VICTORIA!) because your thighs have doubled in size and are raw with being too well acquainted with one another, when your arms look like the offspring of your thighs, when a constellation has taken residence on your face and when you are forced to contend with unruly hair with a bad attitude and a personal vendetta--well that leaves you feeling quite . . . unsexy, uncute, and a slightly psychotic (and oddly, hungry).

Where was the glow when I was pregnant with JR? Wait, that was sweat mixed with oil from my overproducing glands. Damn . . .

"We have an E," the sales lady mercilessly continues.

I'm not prone to being embarrassed. Nope. Not at all. But when the girl in the next changing room looks like a teen pageant winner and her husband/boyfriend shares genes with Brad Pitt and when she has to wear a fake belly to try on pregnancy clothes (she seriously will never look pregnant. She'll just appear to have a zit on her belly--I just know it) you just don't get all that excited about increasing bewbage or having it announced to the world (mall, same difference). I swear I heard Teen Barbie and Brad giggle (probably not, but it makes me feel better if I can have a good reason to hate them).

I stuffed them (the bewbs, not Barbie and Brad) back into the stretched out, snagged, sad excuse for a brassiere and headed out. I'd had enough torture for one day.

About a dozen bras, countless maternity clothes (we won't discuss why for some reason I can't fit into my clothes from just two years ago. . . I'm very sensitive and there is not enough chocolate to soothe my pain . . . ) and one obnoxious sales lady later . . . I was done.

So . . . we went to eat. Me, the bewbs deserving of their own zip code, and my friend.

Thought for the day: I wonder if I could claim them as dependents on my taxes?

32 comments:

Mr Lady said...

G. That's all I'm going to say.

Kamis Khlopchyk said...

As a flat chested only went to a B after kids, I can't relate but I can empathize. This was a scream and I am not laughing at you girl, only with you....bewbs that deserve their own zip code.

Take comfort in the fact that so many women go under the knife for thousands of $$ to have those bad girls!

Kori said...

I can realte, sypathize, empathize, whatever words to truly convey that I feel your pain. And I am not even pregnant.

Tara R. said...

I've taken to referring to my ever growing chest muffins as The Sisters. The old girls have not been behaving well lately either.

What kind of chocolate were you indulging in again?

Anonymous said...

I had to buy E's after Soph was born. I am so disturbed by my bembs size.

Unknown said...

You know, there are a number of people in the world who appreciate the later letters in the alphabet. I'm just sayin'.

Jenn @ Juggling Life said...

Take it from a permanent D--there are no cooler clothes or French wine. Sorry.

Pregnantly Plump said...

Do you get to keep them afterwards? I'm barely a B when not pregnant and was so excited when pregnant with Little Elvis. Did my bewbs grow? Nope, my armpits (that's apparently where I kept my milk) were swollen and feverish through my entire pregnancy.

Cynthia said...

I am pretty close to an A...it's sad on the small side as well:( Pass the chocolate and wine;)

Lisa said...

Girl....I am so with you. At almost 34 weeks with my third, I feel like I have two (saggy) human heads attached to my chest. I've done the bra shopping from hell as well, and found that the best selection is at JC Penneys. You end up with a smaller size (still WAY too big...) and more support. Email me & I'll let you know of the one I think is great!

flutter said...

I am a 38dd on one side and a 38d on the other. Serious? SERIOUSLY?

Momisodes said...

I suppose I can relate, in the most opposite of ways. I'm at the very beginning of the alphabet, and breastfeeding took what little I had away for good. Victoria barely deems me a woman.

Perhaps we can share some of that chocolate?

p.s. "zit on her belly"-ROFL!

Quarantine Hobby said...

Haha. Oh, I totally feel your pain. Not quite to *that* extent, but the growth during pregnancy (and OMG after) was insane.

Mrs B said...

I was already at an F before pregnancy, so you can imagine my horror as I desperately attempt to find nursing bras in a comic size in France, home of the small-chested, tiny-lil' adorable French girls.

I finally sucked it up and ordered some to my parents' house in the states and am having them mailed over. Hopefully this technique will prove successful.

Karen said...

Oh, girl. You made me snort my Starbucks and that stuff is too precious to waste. Now I'm reduced to licking my keyboard.

CC said...

Dudette. Hugs. I'm a B on a good day and have to admit that that is really hard to shop for too. But screaming out your size. Not cool. Not cool at all.

Woman in a Window said...

Oh my dear. You do have issues, don't you. Two big issues and nowhere to put them.

Pam said...

Sadly, I went from a nice plump C to a tiny, flat, saggy A after my kids.....that make me sad.

Kat said...

I thought my boobs were big as a C now. HAHAHA! I just wish they would stay a C after I am done breastfeeding and not shrivel up to a sad deflated little balloon size. *sniff, sniff*
Enjoy your big knockers while you got 'em. ;)

painted maypole said...

when I was preggers my boobs got huge very fast... well before anything else did. old friends were commenting on it all the time, but we had just moved out of LA, and I think all my new friends in the burbs thought I just had huge boobs. ;)

tiarastantrums said...

hee hee - I know I shouldn't laugh - but girl - that was seriously funny - and can I say . . . you are just a bit lucky! This coming from a very SMALL A cup! I only ever made it to a C!!

Lori said...

Sorry but that description just had me rolling...she will never look pregnant, just a zit on her belly! LOL!! I instantly dislike her! :-)

tracey.becker1@gmail.com said...

:( I'm sorry. I don't know why they don't carry larger sizes in stores that SPECIALIZE in selling undergarments. It makes no sense. There are HUNDREDS of women in every city with chests that are larger than the "average" sizes. Why is it so hard for them to find the proper gear to hoist their BEWBS???

KG said...

I'm a DD if it makes you feel any better. I totally got that thigh chaffage thing when I was pregnant in the summer. I used that "Lanocane" spray on it and it helped. It's so awful that I know exactly what you mean, but dude, I've been there.

OHmommy said...

Oh, gosh... I can relate. I had to purchase E's after each of my pregnancies. I wish I could say I actually burned them. But alas, I just threw them out.

Karen MEG said...

A tax break!!!
I guess the grass is always greener...I went to a C but back to a less than AA after my kids were done with them.

Aracely said...

DD here, and you can claim them as dependents but you have to get them separate social security numbers.

just jamie said...

E?

E?

(I wasn't shouting. Don't worry. Just whispering loudly.)

Really? E?

:)

MommyTime said...

I remember being that girl next to you. And I remember being you. I was that girl in my first trimester with my first child, when nothing I owned fit, and everything maternity was too big, and therefore I felt destined to go nekkid to work. I was you in my third trimester with my second child, when the bigger-than-the-bigger-bras I'd bought during my 1st pregnancy were ALL too small, and nothing seemed like it would fit my previously b-cup self.

I send much sympathy to you. Also, hugs and good karma: this, too, shall pass.

Momo Fali said...

I hope you bought yourself a cookie. You SO deserve a cookie. Also, Mr. Lady can bite me. I went up to an H.

Anonymous said...

Used to be a C. Post partum: H. Until after I finished breastfeeding for 22 months...now DDD. If you find a new zip code, will you share it with me?

Victoria has a secret and it's that she doesn't like women with bewbs bigger than hers!!

Anonymous said...

I can so relate. Truth be told, I've never returned to my original barely B. That's not a bad thing.

The comment about your thighs almost made me fall out of my seat. So, so very funny. I'm laughing with you...really. I know your pain.

-FringeGirl

Photo of the Week

Photo of the Week
Two Peas
Creative Commons License

  © Blogger templates The Professional Template by Ourblogtemplates.com 2008

Back to TOP