So, I haven’t had the energy to write much lately – with Jon out of town six out of seven days of the week (and when he’s home, it’s just a weird day for whatever reason) – I’m solo’ing this whole thing and it’s really different to do it on your own. Not like I don’t have a ton of help between my parents and Jon’s parents – but it’s still different (though it’s been five weeks now, so it’s starting to become the norm).
Anyway — I’ve been working in the yard and the pond a lot in advance of golf season beginning in earnest in May. I’ve made great progress, so I’m feeling pretty good about it all, actually.
And, I’ve been trying really, really hard to get my weight under control and my body back within comfortable (to me) boundaries. Which means I’ve been eating less, exerting myself more (some real exercise, some just working in the yard but never both ;). I have found myself often wearing yoga pants or workout pants and sweatshirts — which is my comfort mode for sure — but I also have been trying to get back to wearing – you know – real clothes, too.
So, this brings me to the title of this particular post – I bought bras.
I bought NICE bras that fit right. Crazy, right? It only took me six months to get back to a bra that fits me and does something for my otherwise flimsy post- preggo boobies.
I went to Soma in the outlets near me and walked in and when a sales clerk looked at me I just said “I need help.” and she measured me, and got all the bras and tanks to try on with them, and I just tried on bras until we found the size that fits me right…which, for the record, here’s my bra history…
I was a 36C. As cataloged here, I bought – at one point during pregnancy – a 40DD. Yes, I did. It may have been overkill, but probably not. And now, I measure at a 38D. I landed right in the middle.
But, over the last six months, bra shopping and the required expenditure just didn’t make the top of the list. I would go to Target, look at a bra, go ‘ah, looks about right’ and come home, try it on, feel a bit uncomfortable or feel like my boobs were still a bit saggier than I’d like, but figure it was more difficult to take the bra back than to just deal with it.
Until last week.
I reached my breaking point, or the point at which I’m ready to claim back my body and execute control over it. Perhaps this is why my fitness/wellness crusade is going so well for the moment. Because I have taken back control and ownership of myself in meaningful ways – you know, like having a bra that fits.
Anyway, if anyone happens upon this post and you’re pregnant or you’ve just delivered…don’t wait six months to get back into a properly-fitting bra — it feels so, so good and I guess by controling my chest, I have been able to focus on the rest of my life a little more clearly!!