WTF IS THAT?! Also Known As: My First Lactation Scare

I try to be a good little pregnant lady and intake plenty of water. To aid me in my quest, I employ the help of a pink refillable Eddie Bauer water bottle, because I care about the earth and shit.

This pink refillable Eddie Bauer water bottle is fab, except for one small problem:
It leaks like a MoFo.

I had just filled up my bottle and sat my big fat pregnant ass down to take a drink when I remembered that I needed to pick a copy I had made up from the back. With a sigh, I heaved my orca-like body out of the chair, took a swig of my delicious (ha, ha) water and headed in the back to retrieve said copy. I was standing back there, looking at the dreary day that was outside the window and for some reason I looked down. On my chest, I saw a big round wet spot.

My thought was: HOLY SHIT, I AM LACTATING. FOR THE FIRST TIME. AT WORK. WHAT THE HELL. WHY?! OF ALL THE PLACES, WHY?!

My mind raced through solutions to the problem before anyone noticed that I was leaking milk from my chest like a neglected cow. I was about to cross my arms over my chest and put on a sweater when I remembered that I had hastily taken a sip from my leaky water bottle. And because I am pregnant and as a result, A BLEEDING MORON, I didn’t take the time to realize that the wet spot was NOWHERE NEAR MY ACTUAL NIPPLE.

I uttered a hugh sigh of relief and a slight laugh, and like a good mommy blogger, I took a picture of my “not breastmilk” wet spot.

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Excuse Me, Miss, I Believe You Have My Ship’s Sail In Your Pants

Once I had graduated to maternity clothes, a bigger size of underwear wasn’t far behind. I managed to squeeze into my normal-sized panties until about 20 weeks and then I realized that not only was my belly growing as my child did, but I apparently had another child in my hips, and yet another one in my ass. It was just a matter of time before I needed bigger underwear to go with my maternity jeans.

One day I trudged my fat butt into Wal-Mart in search for my usual bikini-cut panties in a size bigger. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that the line that I was interested in didn’t MAKE A SIZE BIGGER IN THE CUT I WANTED. WTF. I scanned the shelves for a few minutes before my husband gently encouraged me to give up the search. I dragged my feet over toward the plus-size underwear, where I found the next size up.

Now, let me clarify. There’s nothing wrong with being plus-size. I have been borderline plus-size for a while, and I really and truly do not believe that a person’s worth lies in her weight, height, or dress size. However, having to take the plunge into the realm of “big girl underwear” wasn’t easy for me. I kept reminding myself that the gain was for a good cause, it was temporary and if I didn’t like it I could always try and combat the ass gain a little by… You know, walking. What a novel idea, right?

Anyhow, I bought a pack of the plus-size panties in a cut I didn’t like… Unfortunately, they were out of the bikini cut that I’m fond of.
When I got home, I ripped into the pack of my new panties, pulled one out and unfolded it… I was promptly greeted by a stretch of fabric that was approximately the size of a ship’s sail. The cute, colorful pattern decorating the underwear could not even mask the fact that these were clearly the dreaded Granny Panties you hear people talk about. Yes… I was about to slip on my first pair of Granny Panties. I put the underwear on, and was greeted immediately by an increase of comfort. The band wasn’t digging into my hips and my ass wasn’t struggling to break free. Nothing but roomy comfort.

I eventually got over the fact that my ass was the size of Texas and learned to live with my gigantic undergarments. I experienced a moment of horror when my husband reached into the dryer to retrieve one of his white undershirts, tried to put it on and realized with a confused look that he wasn’t slipping into his shirt at all – but a pair of my white underpants. He stood there with one arm through one leg hole, his head cocked to the side at a strange angle and stared at me incredulously. “I don’t think this is right,” he said. He told me that he thought it was his undershirt while I laughed and blushed simultaneously.

I’ve lived happily with my underwear for many weeks now and am happy to report I still haven’t grown out of them. But I let it slip to my mother-in-law one day that I wasn’t wearing maternity underwear (don’t even remember how the conversation came up, but I have a very good relationship with her) and was just living in normal big-girl panties, and she responded with a gasp of horror.
“But you must be so uncomfortable!” I told her that I wasn’t; that I just bought them big so I’d have plenty of room to grow into them. She vowed to me that day that she was going to get me some maternity underwear, and by god.. She made good on her word.

She called me over the weekend announcing she was at Motherhood Maternity and was looking at two different kinds of panties.
“One has the full stretchy panel, like your jeans and the others are bikini cut that sit below your stomach. I was going to get you the full panel, but the salesgirl said younger women tend to like the bikini better. I thought it would be uncomfortable under your belly so I wanted to ask you what you’d prefer.”
I told her to go ahead and the the bikini cut; that my maternity pants all had the full panel and doubling up would probably be uncomfortable. I went and retrieved them later on that day and put them on as soon as I got home.

Most. Comfortable. Panties. EVER.

They are soft and stretchy, and leave NO LINES UNDER CLOTHES. The band doesn’t cut into your skin and neither do the leg holes. I am in love. Why did I ever resist the maternity panties for so long? Beats the hell out of me. If you are curious, here are the panties that I got ———->

And you can find them here:

If you are pregnant and are considering making the switch to maternity panties, DO IT NOW. Not later, NOW. Your tummy, ass, and hips will thank you. You may prefer a different cut, but stop living in your normal lady undies and embrace the marvels of the Pregnant Lady panties. Because while they may be maternity panties and are a bit more expensive, they are NOT granny panties and for that…. Your husband/partner will ALSO thank you.

Note from Mama:
If you enjoyed this post, please remember to vote for me at PregnancyCorner.com. You can do so by clicking on this button:

mom2be

And following their instructions. I have some pretty stiff competition. It only takes a few minutes, and you could help an up and coming mommy blogger take off and get some recognition. Thank you!