Or at least it is today.
Having just entered my 3rd trimester I decided it was time to start purchasing the things I don’t have but need for my hospital stay. I know its still a little early to have the bag packed and ready to go- but I wanted to go ahead and at least buy what I need over the next few weeks so I can have the back packed around week 32.
So today I adventured to Target in search of some maternity/nursing pajamas. I dont own pajamas… I don’t wear pajamas… If I need to be covered at night I usually rely on just a pair of leggings and a tank top. and I know neither of those will be very appropriate for my hospital stay or when I’m at home with visitors. So I was hoping to find some comfy lounge pants, maybe a few short nursing gowns and some nursing camis and nursing sleep bras. I never thought this would end in an emotional breakdown.
I went to Target because I figured maybe they would be a bit more reasonable in price. I just cant fathom spending 50-60 bucks on a pair of pajamas I’m going to wear around the house. Seems a bit ridiculous to me. But it truth- Targets prices weren’t all that much better than anywhere else. And apparently the manufacturers of nursing wear don’t take the fact that your already enormous boobs will now become engorged and GINORMOUS. NO support in any of these things. What the… WHY? Is it too much to ask for a little support for the girls?
I went to the dressing room with 11 pieces… was told I could only take 6… and by item 4 I was already overheated, irritated and almost to the point of tears. I used the “family” dressing room. Hey, this belly needs a bit more room than those tiny dressing rooms. And of course I overheard someone outside my dressing room… “is there only one person in there? Why is she using up a family dressing room”. OK woman… wanna complain to my face… really? So when I came out of the dressing room, having nothing I wanted to purchase of course the dressing room clerk was on a personal call. I wanted to be polite and let her know that I didn’t intend on trying on the other 5 pieces she wouldn’t let me bring into the dressing room (as if I was going to stuff them down my pants and steal them). After standing there about 7 minutes I finally just walked off.
I know that about 80% of my irritation is just pregnancy hormones and not anything to be blamed on Target. But gosh- Im about this close (holds up two fingers really close together) to just saying screw it… Ill be naked!