~ Slight Discomfort
I'm what most people would call a "full-figure" when it comes to my endowments. At age nine, I was the first girl in my class to need a bra; actually need one. By age thirteen, I had surpassed the D cup. By the time I was twenty-one I was larger than anyone I knew. While most women said they envied me, they never understood the trauma I went through shopping for blouses, dresses and swimsuits. The worst problem of all was shopping for the brazier. My issue lies in the fact that I have a large cup size, but small band width. Most places think that if you're an F cup, your band size has to be well over forty.
I got by early in life where I'd find a store that would special order my bras. With the advent of e-commerce, bra shopping became a lot easier. However, it would take anywhere from three to six weeks for me to receive a bra I ordered. Since I never had to worry about my breasts spontaneously growing, it was never an issue; until now. As I sit typing this, I am in a bra much too small for me. I have spent hundreds of dollars trying to find a comfortable bra that fits in my size. I still have bras on back order from over three months ago that I know I'll have to return once they are shipped. Of all my issues with pregnancy, this one remains my worst. By the time I come home from work my shoulders are so red and blistered that it hurts to take a shower. I've tried everything I can think of from buying attachable comfort straps to wrapping the bra in an ace bandage. I'm large, growing and I hurt. I don't even want to think about when the time comes for me to start looking for nursing bras.
Because of my small frame and large breasts, people are unable to tell I'm pregnant. Most clothing I wear has a tent affect making me look much larger than I am. So, people still can not tell that I am pregnant at Week Twenty-One. At most they probably think I've gained a little bit of weight. Case in point, yesterday morning a coworker commented on the fact that I should be showing by now. Well, I am she just can't tell. My boobs are still growing faster than my belly. I was showered in all sorts of advice about eating properly. I looked at the large bowl of fruit sitting in front of me and thought "I am eating properly." Most of the time I want to raise my shirt to show my rounding belly and shout "I am pregnant!", but that would be most inappropriate at work.
I am taking care of myself and my baby. I eat highly nutritious food; mostly fruits and vegetables. I treat myself on the weekends to snacks and sweets, but I do not over do it. I weigh myself every week to make sure I haven't gone overboard. I feel that I am doing the best that I can for myself and my baby and as hungry as I am most of the time, I feel I deserve a parade for that.
I know sooner or later I will find a bra that will bring a sigh of relief to my lips. I know that in a few short weeks my belly should be large enough for people to actually tell that I am pregnant. Until then, I'll muddle through as I always do.