Yesterday was a bit of a milestone for me: I put on clothes. Not pyjamas, leggings or tracksuit bottoms with the elastic cut out but proper, non-maternity clothes. Actually I lie: the jeans are maternity jeans, but you’d never know – they’re Paige Verdugo, and the only difference between these and the normal ones is a tiny bit of discreet elastic in the waistband. But it’s such an event for me to be even wearing jeans; I haven’t been able to because of my caesarean scar and my sensitive, doughy postpartum tummy! I’ve been living in maternity “over the bump” leggings with long vests and shirts layered over the top to hide my bottom and that’s only been when I’ve been bothered to actually get dressed.
Why the sudden daring leap into clothes that actually reveal some kind of body shape? Well. Mr AMR brought me two suitcases of clothes from out of storage and it kickstarted an impromptu trying-on session of my pre-house-renovation pre-baby clothes. It was like opening a time capsule when I unzipped the first case! I expected dry fog to rise up and to be bathed in a pale blue light as I leant over the top layer of clothes. My Betty Boop slipper socks! My favourite Hush maxi-dresses that I usually live in for the whole of summer! Those dodgy yoga pant things that I knew I shouldn’t have bought but did anyway because they had 40% off!
As I put things on and took them off again, I realised two things: firstly that my scar wasn’t hurting or itching, even when waistbands of leggings and jeans directly pressed on it, and secondly that my legs and bum didn’t look too bad in jeans. Not too bad at all. And rather than feeling horribly restricted by “normal” clothes after nearly a year of comfort-dressing, I felt pulled together and sort of structured. It was nice.
So, starting gently with my normal-person-dressing, I decided to wear the Paige Verdugo jeans (don’t know whether they still make them but I’ve found them here – they are so amazingly comfy) with a star jumper from Hush (summer collection, but I was too pregnant to wear it without bursting out of it like the Hulk) and my Stan Smith trainers. I felt like a proper person again, not having the waistband of my leggings up under my boobs and a big baggy top on. Though I did have to suck my stomach in about eighty inches, which was a new sensation, rather like having to turn myself inside out…