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Yesterday marked a bit of a milestone for me: I actually wore real clothes. Not pajamas, leggings, or tracksuit bottoms with loose elastic, but actual, non-maternity clothing. Well, I should admit the jeans were still maternity jeans, but you wouldn’t know it—they’re Paige Verdugo, and the only difference is a small, discreet elastic bit in the waistband. It’s a big deal for me to be even wearing jeans since I haven’t been able to due to my C-section scar and my still-sensitive postpartum belly. I’ve been living in maternity “over the bump” leggings with long vests and shirts layered to cover my rear, and that’s only when I bothered to get dressed.
What prompted this bold step into wearing clothes that actually show some body shape? Mr. AMR brought me two suitcases full of clothes from storage, sparking an impromptu try-on session of my old, pre-house-renovation, pre-baby wardrobe. Opening the first suitcase felt like discovering a time capsule. I half-expected a mist to rise and a soft blue light to glow as I sifted through the clothes. There were my Betty Boop slipper socks, my beloved Hush maxi-dresses that I rely on every summer, and even those questionable yoga pants I bought on sale, even though I knew better.
While trying on clothes, I realized two significant things: first, my scar wasn’t painful or itchy, even when leggings and jeans pressed against it, and second, my legs and bum didn’t look too shabby in jeans. Not bad at all. Instead of feeling stifled by “normal” clothes after a year of comfort dressing, I felt more composed and put together. It felt nice.
Easing into wearing regular clothes, I chose to rock the Paige Verdugo jeans (not sure if they are still available, but they are incredibly comfy), paired with a star sweater from Hush (from their summer collection, which I couldn’t wear before because I felt like I would burst out of it) and my Stan Smith trainers. I felt like a proper person again, without my leggings riding up to my chest and a big baggy top. Although I did have to suck in my stomach quite a bit, which was a new feeling, a bit like trying to turn myself inside out.