I have been sucking in for ten years.
This is just a guess, but I assume it started with the “freshman fifteen” when I was eighteen years old in college and has lasted until now, my almost 28th birthday. I am not sure how or when the sucking-in phenomenon began; all I know is that this week I realized it has become a part of my existence, like eating Mexican food, breathing, and sleeping. Sucking in.
The process? Take the jeans out of the wash, mental note on how they’ve shrunk, special dance around the room to stretch them out in the thigh and buttocks areas, deep breath, pull them on begrudgingly, and use all my forefinger strength to attempt a successful button. Then the real work begins. A constant stomach crunch. A perpetual shoving of my bully button into my lungs. A never ending deep breath that cannot be fully let go of for fear of the “dunlop” disorder, the “spare tire” or God forbid, “the mom pouch” and her friend “spare tire”.
It sounds awful, but much like a diabetic and their insulin or a person who has to remember to take pills every single day, it becomes second nature. Sucking in.
And I’m not even one of those girls that thinks she’s fat. Nor do I terribly care if I gain or lose a few pounds here and there… still, it seems I have fallen pray to subjecting my stomach to torture for ten years.
I Saw the Light!
So the last few weeks I have gotten progressively worse about unbuttoning and unzipping my pants in public to get comfortable. This happens on plane rides, before shows, and now, even restaurants. I mean I don’t own a single thing that seems to close anymore. Every time I partake in this guilty moment of comfort, I forget what I have done, and stand up to show the world my baby belly in all its glory. Not exactly what my plane buddies want to see. Or the kid next to me eating his hamburger.
So I decided it was time to try on the dreaded maternity pants.
And friends, my life will never, ever, be the same.
This is the greatest piece of clothing ever invented. The most wonderful piece of denim to ever enter my wardrobe. These are miracle pants. Happy people pants. I have seen the light and I will never wear normal jeans again. Ever. Pregnant or not.
It’s like a Party
I mean… I can breath. I can eat all I want to and feel like there is an elephant inside of my stomach and no one has any idea. I can pull that little stretchy thingy nearly up to my chin and keep everything nicely tucked and hidden behind a wall of stretchy miracle.
And, I have almost doubled the amount of food I can eat; these pants should be sold at every Shoney's and buffet in the country!!! You can eat unlimited amounts of food and no one knows! I have never looked forward to Thanksgiving more in my life. I better tell my mother-in-law to get some food donations, because I think I can probably squeeze in 7 entire meals that day with these pants.
I am only four months pregnant. I am pretty sure this is a bit early to bust out the preggo pants, but now that they're out, they are never leaving my suitcase. I can legitimately wear these for at least another 12 months. And they are going to be the best 12 months my wardrobe has ever seen.