Staring my bump in the face

We are going on holiday at the weekend. To Ibiza. Which is a bit weird. But also very exciting. It might even be sunny.

I want to swim if it’s even the slightest bit warm enough to do so, which means I require a bathing suit of some kind. I have already discounted all the ‘maternity’ options with their weird bump flaps. and what have you. I have decided on a bikini. I just can’t find one.

So tonight I asked my mother to go bikini shopping and must have spent about an hour in the fitting rooms trying on all the viable options I could find. Half of that time was probably taken up by taking the bikinis off their hangers and putting the bikinis back on their hangers. Another good chunk was just me standing there while my Mummy Dearest got me some different sizes.

And that was the freaky part. Standing there close to naked in front of three mirrors, under very illuminating lights. I have not had such a good look at myself in a very long time. And I look weird. And it started making me feel weird. I couldn’t even figure out exactly how I was feeling about the person I was looking at, but I was glad when I didn’t have to do it anymore.

I didn’t find a bikini, because none of the things that went together were quite the right size, and I’m not quite ready to be the pregnant lady in the clashing mismatched bikini. Maybe once I’ve exhausted my options again tomorrow I will reconsider my position.

I wonder if looking at me will make other people feel weird

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