Its sickening

I know I don't talk about the P-word an awful lot on here.

Several reasons.

---

One is that, while this blog is "all about me" and satisfies the navel-gazing portion of my needs wants, this whole thing isn't just about me - that, and the navel will be getting that much closer and shallower and oh my heck, have you seen how HUGE women get while pregnant and there is no "get out of jail free" card and - heck, I am hyperventilating on that whole aspect now, and we are NOWHERE near half way.

---

Another is that the biggest issue I have at the moment is outerwear - well, that and underwear.

One of the immense downsides of having a 10 year gap between the firstborn and the lastborn with no otherborns in between is that you don't tend to hold on to the absolutely devastatingly heartbreaking draperies stylish maternity wear from the last go around. Yes, even despite the fact that maternity wear is maternity wear is maternity wear and no era is ever going to date tents and muu-muus.

I have attempted to overcome the huge gap between what I got and what I need in the whole cover myself, keep warm and (yes, insert maniacal laughter now) look stylish short-term goal in my life.

Guess what?

Ab-so-lute-ly sweet FA (soccer term for those who don't know the meaning, Mum).

There are not a huge range of shopping options available to me in the nearby big smoke.

Yes, there are chain stores. Do you know where you find maternity wear in chain stores? There are generally two options.

One is in the oversize section. I know there is a rumour that some stores have it BESIDE the oversize section, but really, it looks like the oversize section, fits like the oversize section and in fact, well how about that, it is the oversize section.

Not that I have anything against the oversize section, in fact, I am feeling more and more empathy for the oversize section by the day. There was a day when someone once injected style into the oversize section, I believe. However, there is a conspiracy that is no equating those who frequent the oversize section with a lot of negative words, starting with the letter "oh" and ending with the expletive "my goodness, it is all YOUR fault" and they are being punished with tents and muumuus.

The other is in the sporting section. Oh yes, you think, very sporting behaviour must have got you there but in fact it is a sinister plot, designed to make you feel like you should buy chocolate and trashy magazines so you can go home, do a bit of weeping and gnashing and read about celebrity folk what get knocked up and pare down within hours, so I too can go on a bikini shoot before 2009 is out.

The really, really nasty store designers go for the double-whammy and actually put it between the oversize section AND the sporting section.

And really, the choice you have on the - if you are extremely lucky - two racks of maternity wear? Your choice is black trackpants (heck, maybe even two styles), black leggings, ugly jeans with three inches of blue ribbing around the top for expansion, black stretch tops in a variety of two styles and tshirts. Personally, I love a bit of black in my wardrobe but I am looking for things to wear OUTSIDE of the house - say to work type things - there is only so much gothic you can get away with in an office in nearby big smoke.

And then there is the "speciality boutiques" - must be said with the assistance of marbles in the mouth, because it stops your heart being there when you see the price they expect people to part with just for - you guessed it - black trackpants, ugly jeans with three inches of blue ribbing around the top for expansion and black stretch tops - sure, there may be one or two extra bits of lace around the trim but so not worth the extra $50 - the extra $50 on an already inflated price at the chain stores.

Finally you have the op shops. I was once an op shop queen - but that was back in the day when the realm of op shop actually held bargains and were worthy of reigning. I hate to whinge (lord, how you all know how much I hate to whinge) but in nearby big smoke the op shop options are a long, long way from the realms of my 20s - in style, quality AND price - okay, in geography too.

Have a wild guess where the maternity section is in the op shops? That would be in their oversize section - and lordy, I do feel for those who have to frequent the oversize section of the op shops here, because it would seem that every polyester twin-suit created with a complete lack of taste fill the racks, and I am yet to actually find anything maternity on the racks despite the advice from the volunteers that man the stores.

And as for underwear - my 3 bra rule still remains unbroken, despite actually venturing into a travelling bra sale on the weekend in the faint hope that the hype of "nothing over $30", "1,000s of bras" and "to fit all sizes and shapes" would conspire into giving me lift and support for less than a limb.

Where is that maniacal laugh button again?

The only thing I came out of such a sale with was the lesson relearned that you don't wear a dress bra shopping, due to placement of fitting room, communal nature of said fitting room and the fact that while you may have trawled through the 1,000s of bras, the only thing close to what you may want is only available in pale peach, costs a smidge above their "nothing over" promise and is uncomfortable as hell when you finally declothe in said communal fitting room with only a brief curtain between you and the hordes is so darned uncomfortable it makes your least favourite of the 3 bras feel welcome when you redress.

---

And the final reason that I don't over-pregnify the blog is that I have relative who is also on this journey. No, not the relative you all know and love (I have other relatives) but one we will call, for the purposes of this blog, Curly.

Curly has been along the track three times previous - and the end results are beautiful - however, while I have the awe of expansion of girth and am otherwise hale and sickeningly hearty in pregnancy, her journeys are not quite so serene.

In fact, poor Curly has already spent more than a few hours in her local hospital being pumped with fluids because her body is of the opinion that the presence of the unborn should cause a negative equation in the whole things going in and things going out ratio.

Given that each of the three times has had this as a large factor at play for the majority of the 9 months, me singing about how I am all glowing and have never felt better is probably going to make her throw up (like she needs the excuse).

---

So the upshot is, 17 weeks down, oh my goodness only another 24 weeks or so of galloping towards the inevitable in an ever decreasing wardrobe and can't complain (well, not enough to blog about it incessantly, anyway).