“Ok!! Let’s take a coffee break.” Says Claire.
Claire, Sue, Mia and I have been walking up and down the Mall looking for a formal dress for me.
It’s for Myriam’s wedding; she is Sam’s niece. And I have nothing to wear. Honest! Every single thing in my closet is either too long, too short, too tight or too loose. My clothes use to fit perfectly but not anymore. For the last few weeks I have been wearing only sweatpants and oversized shirts. They are the only clothes I can tolerate.
But the wedding is in a few days and Claire has rallied Sue and Mia for an emergency-shopping spree. Not that it is helping me in any way. We have such different tastes!!
Mia goes for long flowing dresses and I detest those. Sue is choosing elaborate couture dresses that suffocate me. Claire is favoring maternity dresses, which I refuse to wear.
With a sigh of relief I sit on the nearest chair, kick off my shoes and wiggle my toes. Even my ballet flats are getting too tight.
Claire comes back with a tray: three ice teas and a ginger ale for me. The coffee aroma still makes me queasy. As my ‘morning sickness’ appears at the oddest hours and as a big favor to me, my friends have switched to tea instead of coffee when I am around.
“Sofie! You’re being so difficult. How can you not like those designer dresses.” complains Sue.
“I couldn’t breathe in them. I don’t want to distract the guests’ attention from the bride by fainting during the ceremony.”
“That long floral dress was gorgeous.” Says Mia.
“I looked like a tent in it.”
“This is all nonsense. You should wear dresses made especially for your condition.” Says Claire
“No, No and No!!! I am not wearing maternity clothes.”
“I don’t like them. I am very comfortable in my sweatpants and t-shirts.”
“But maternity clothes are comfortable and practical.” Insists Claire.
“She is right!” nods Sue.
“Have you two been talking to my mom?”
“No!” all three answer simultaneously.
I eye them suspiciously. For the last few days my mom has also been insisting that I buy maternity clothes and I have been delaying all her attempts at a shopping outing together. I cannot explain this resistance in me. This is one aspect of my pregnancy that I don’t embrace wholeheartedly.
“Let’s start again.” Orders Claire standing up.
“No!! I am too exhausted. I want to go home.” I answer plaintively.
“But the wedding!” cries Sue.
“I make a solemn promise that tonight I’ll check on line. If I don’t find anything then we’ll come back tomorrow.”
“Promise.” I reply raising my hand.
It’s 2AM. I wake up with a start. I have a message on my phone. It’s from Claire: