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“Come on.” Francesca says as she locks her car doors. “I know the perfect place. They have everything you can think of for a baby, including maternity clothes.”
Shopping with Francesca should be an Olympic sport. There’s sprinting, heavy lifting, and even pole vaulting. Well, the way she jumped over the gliders on display to get to the newborn onesies was equivalent to pole vaulting.
She holds up a plain white onesie. “Look at these. They are so cute and tiny.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to have to push out anything bigger than that.”
Her eyes widen, and she puts the onesie back. “Good point.”
We walk around the store and stop at the maternity section. She picks out several cute maternity dresses.
“I don’t need dresses right now. It’s not warm yet. Besides, I still fit in all of my clothes.”
“But it will be warming up in less than a month and then you will be grateful you have them.”
A very pregnant woman speaks from the other side of the dresses. She rubs her bump and smiles.
“Bumps can pop out at any time. This is my second baby, and I swear as soon as I hit twelve weeks with both of my babies, none of my clothes fit. I went from having a tiny bump that you couldn’t see under a shirt to looking like I was six months pregnant.”
“How far along are you now?”
Francesca looks at the next rack, leaving me to continue my conversation.
“Thirty-three weeks. He’s due just in time for our annual family Easter celebration. Both families get together and host a huge breakfast, followed by an egg hunt for all the kids.”
“Aww congratulations. I’m eleven weeks, and I’m kind of freaking out.”
“Is this your first one?”
“Yeah, and a complete surprise. This is all new to me, and if I’m being honest, I’m completely overwhelmed. There’s so much to buy and prepare for.”
“I totally understand how overwhelming it can be. For our first, we bought everything we thought we would need. We had the convertible crib, changing table, dresser, glider, and every accessory you can imagine, but the second we brought our baby home, we didn’t use anything.”
“Nothing? You didn’t even use the crib?”
She smiles and shakes her head. “Nope. She refused to sleep in the crib or the bassinet. I always changed her on the floor or on our bed. I still use the glider though. That was an amazing purchase, so I’d recommend that. Oh, and don’t bother getting the diaper trash can. It doesn’t keep the odor away.”
“That’s good to know, because that was going to be one of the things I bought.”
“I just saved you a hundred dollars. You can use it for newborn pictures.”
“Good idea. Thanks for the advice.”
“No problem. There are several great social media groups in our area filled with wonderful women. Just remember, every piece of advice you are given is given out of love, but that doesn’t mean you have to follow it. Do what’s best for you and the baby.”
She turns around and walks away, leaving me wondering if my baby will turn out to be like hers? Will he or she sleep in the crib? Will he or she love their room?
Francesca comes back holding an arm full of clothes. “Try these on.”
My eyes widen as I look at the pile of clothes. “All of these?”
“No, just the top three. The other ones are the same brands, just in different colors and patterns. I didn’t know what size you would fit into now.”
I grab the three dresses and head to the fitting room. I throw on the first dress with a white flowery pattern and stare at my reflection in the mirror. I don’t recognize the woman staring back at me.
The ruching on the side accentuates my tiny baby bump, but allows for my bump to grow. The dress hugs my curves in all the right places and flows down to the ground.
I rub my stomach, feeling tears well up in my eyes.