I went to visit my parents yesterday, and my mom and I went to the mall. I wanted to start looking at dresses for my brother in law's wedding in May. It's still early but I just wanted to get an idea of what was out there. Now, unlike most women, I'm not a fan of trying on clothes. I have a hard time finding stuff that fits me, and seeing myself in those awful mirrors while shimmying into clothes that are too tight just doesn't make me feel great about myself.
But I sucked it up and tried on a bunch of dresses at Macy's. It seems that the empire waist is a big style now. It looks cute, but it also makes you look pregnant. I already have a belly - from fat, not a baby, so this doesn't help the situation. I actually looked pregnant in some of the dresses, and because I like to torture myself, I stuck my stomach out more to see what I would look like pregnant in this dress.
Suddenly it hit me, that if I hadn't miscarried, I would be about 37 weeks pregnant at the wedding. I would need a super-maternity dress, but I would be so close to having a baby. That thought made me tear up, right there in the dressing room. I should have been ready to pop by the end of May. Now, I'll be lucky if I'm even pregnant at all by the wedding.
I'm sick of it. I'm sick of not being pregnant. I'm sick of feeling like a failure because I can't get and stay pregnant. I'm sick of making excuses for not losing this excess weight. And most of all, I'm sick of letting TTC take such control over my life and my happiness.
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