let me start by saying that i do not spend a lot of money on how i look. my wardrobe pretty much consists of jeans, shirts, and clogs. that’s just how it is. it won’t change at this point and i’ve accepted it. but when it comes to my boobs, and my girlfriends can attest to this, i spare no expense. my stature, my posture, my mood, everything literally hinges on my level of support. so Nordstrom is my bra mecca. names like freya, chantelle, and fantasie? music to my ears.
i’m no stranger to big boobs, it’s not just a pregnancy thing. the women in my family have been blessed, i mean cursed, with them for generations. i was relieved that my first pregnancy did not result in a larger set of boobs. well, at least not until after baby was born and my milk came in. for some reason i was total denial about the size of my milk-filled breasts in the hospital. i chose to ignore it every time someone walked into the room and their jaw dropped on the floor after having seen the balloon-sized tatas spilling out of my way-too-small nursing gown. but then again, i was in a post c-section morphine haze and i’m sure more than one person got a boob or crotch shot in those few days…
what i was not prepared for was an immediate increase in the size of my breasts with this pregnancy. i can only think that the midwife was right when she guessed that i might be having a boy because no female in her right mind would do this to her own mother. my breasts inflated even before i officially know I was pregnant. my best friend J was quick to point it out the first forty times she saw me after i was pregnant this time. the day I told her i said:
“i think i might be pregnant.”
and she said:
“well, your boobs are HUGE!”
so 17 weeks into the pregnancy and with no respite from the permanently attached flotation devices i made a trip to nordstrom. thanks to an episode of oprah a few years ago i have not only seen the bra light but have also been preaching it to everyone woman i know since. on my first trip to Nordstrom i actually cried after the woman fitted me into the surprisingly large but correctly fitted bra. and i could hear several other woman breathing sighs of relief from their individual dressing rooms as their boobs were lifted off of their rib cages and stomachs and were pointed (or minimized) firmly ahead. once i got over the shock of my bra size i embraced it and acknowleged that as long as they were properly contained, the numbers and letters didn’t matter.
well, until a few weeks ago, when i went back.
i was fed up. i marched right onto the lingerie floor and straight up to my new best friend-fawhzi.
“please, i need a fitting. i’m pregnant and my boobs are out of control.”
she just smiled and gave me a knowing nod. she must hear this all day long.
“right this way.”
when i took off my shirt in the dressing room the poor woman couldn’t control herself and gasped out loud at the sight of my gargantuan boobs taxing my two year old fantasie t-shirt bra.
“oh no. this is too small for you. please take it off.”
i think she was actually offended. and rightfully so, no bra should have to carry that load. so i took off my bra and there i stood topless and i couldn’t give a rat’s ass. i was about to get relief.
“please lift your breasts so that i can measure.”
painful to hear, let me tell you. i closed my eyes. wait for it…
“your size is 38 G. i go get bras for you.”
are you sure you have them?! they exist? i grabbed my phone and texted the size to my husband. seconds later he answered back:
yowzah! i feel a blog coming on…he said.
fawhzi hooked, adjusted, tightened, tucked, and squeezed me into 15 different bras, god bless her. at one point i thought she was going put her foot on my back for leverage. i eventually settle on six bras-five functional and one pretty, because, as fawhzi says,
“even pregnant lady need look sexy for husband.”
after several goodbyes and God bless your child’s (code for thanks for the huge commission) i headed out of Nordstrom with one of the lightest but most expensive clothing purchases of my life. to be clear, this was way more than i could afford. way more. but, three weeks later i can comfortably say it was worth every penny.
3 comments:
You might be onto something with the theory on baby's gender and bra size. When I was pregnant with Leo, I went through the entire alphabet of cup sizes. I'd say it was my least favorite part about being pregnant. Spent a lot of time and money at Nordstrom. Love those determined little bra fitters!
I will have to agree with "anonymous" above. ;) With Thomas, I was getting a new bra every week. I also have various accessories, like extenders, etc., I didn't even know existed. I attributed at least half of my pregnancy weight gain to my chest. And when my milk came in? Let's just say I could never do the side lying feeding position because I would have suffocated the poor baby with my boob.
They actually make bras that lift them up off your ribs and stomach?? That's it... I'm headed to Nordstrom.
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