I told my husband that I was going to start wearing the band on my maternity clothes on the outside in order to start a trend. We might as well wear it on the outside. Everyone sees the ridiculous line going across our stomachs under our clothes. I bought the lie about the amazing new, patent pending design. It's lame. I spend all of my time trying to hide the band or pulling my pants up. Next baby, which Denbigh is quickly planning, there will be no belly bands. No extra layer of heat in Texas. I'm not falling for it. This concludes my bitter diatribe.
I really enjoy being pregnant. In fact, it is one of my favorite things. I love the intimacy of nurturing. If the heinous nature of the belly band is all I have to complain about, I find that I am pretty blessed.
Our nursery has been insulated, taped and floated, textured, and is on it's way to being drywalled. It's an amazing story that I shall tell in a future post!