I have worn some ridiculous outfits in my time, but I think that lately, I've outdone myself.
Today I looked in the mirror and realized the following: My white bra-clad boobs were sticking out through the holes in my magenta nursing top.
Turns out, I'd rehooked the bra, but forgotten to tuck the boobs back in. Not a big deal - it's not like we were out in public. This time. I just need to remember.
But frankly, this is mild in the scheme.
In the beginning, I was so dazed and panicked and confused that I could barely manage clothing.
I mean, I had the hospital underwear. And the maxi pad. Those I always had on.
But at that point, I had no nursing bras. And no idea I'd need support round-the-clock.
I did have two tank tops with built-in shelf bras, so I'd wear those. With my white mesh hospital underwear. And maxi pad.
But this isn't the worst of it.
Because, you see, the tank tops weren't built for nursing. You couldn't just unhook one side and then the other.
Plus, my nipples were so sore that it was nice not to have anything rubbing. The air helped.
So eventually, I'd wear it like a tube top. An under-boob tube top. This was comfy enough that I started doing it regularly.
At some point, I just forgot about it. Because I wasn't really ever leaving the bedroom anyway.
One night my mom was sleeping over, and, like most of the time in the beginning, I was upset about something. I was standing, hands on hips, voicing my displeasure to Nick.
He and Betty looked at each other, looked at me, and my mom very gently said, "Sweetheart, it's a little hard to take you seriously in that outfit."
As it would be.
Hands on hips, mad as a wet hen.
In under-boob black tube top, breasts perched atop in full glory. White mesh hospital underwear. Through which maxi pad was fully visible. Grey slippers.
I had to admit she had a point.