So I finally went to get some new bras.
The old ones just weren't cutting it anymore and I don't see any relief in the near future.
In fact from what I hear, it's only going to get worse.
I joyfully walk into the Maternity store, hubs in tow, to see just how big the girls were.
The cheery sales woman offers to measure me first, so I agree.
Easier than a giant guessing game right?
This is where the fun stops.
I went in wearing my pre-pregnancy bra, an already huge 38D.
I left with two
bras boulder holders in a size 42F.
I actually almost cried when she told me I was an E but that I better get the F for growth.
I looked at her very seriously and said....do you even MAKE that size.
She laughed and walked me to the back...where they hide the big ones...and showed me my choices. Ugly and uglier.
So what's my husband doing this whole time? Consoling his poor wife? No. Grinning from ear to ear. Not because he's taking pleasure in all my pain and embarrassment...but because he thinks it's AWESOME that his wife has such huge boobs.
"But hun, don't you know how lucky you are?!? Most women have to pay for boobs that big"
Great. Thanks for the uplifting words. They're really helping me right now as I buy this bra with a trap door in it for easy access. And no hun, that doesn't mean easy access for YOU! Nice try though.
Shoot me now.