Maternity clothes in Dubai

It’s all going downhill for Emma Milner as she bursts out of the seams of her maternity wardrobe

I am getting bigger. Yes, I know I am pregnant and it’s completely normal, but the other day as I struggled to bend down to drag cars out of Sam’s toy box, he actually stopped pointing at what he wanted and started waving and saying ‘hi’ to my bottom. Alarmingly, he mistook it for my other huge lump and seemed to think my posterior was actually where mummy’s second baby was being kept.

It was this, something that would have been considered a comedy moment in the past, that brought me down to earth with a, er, bump. And, as this is no time to be watching my weight, I decided it was time to invest in some bigger, looser maternity clothes. Now, this is something I really resent doing. They cost a fortune, they’re only used for a few months and now, as I have only have a few weeks left to go, there seems to be even less point. That said, I can’t really go around with no clothes on and I can’t sit in the flat until D-day in my undies. So, I decided to bite the bullet and go shopping.

I looked in the UK for maternity clothes during my holidays, thinking there would be a bigger selection there, but returned despondent and empty handed. Apparently the new trend for pregnant women this year is maternity hot pants. Now, I don’t consider myself a prude but, really, maternity hot pants? Even the Spice Girls didn’t sport them when they were pregnant. As someone who needs a pair of stretchy jogging bottoms with ‘wide-load’ written on the back, these were well off the mark, obviously aimed at teenage mums and not really suitable for life in the Middle East.

While I admire the courage of anyone willing to dress up as Humpty Dumpty, I really don’t think they’re for me. If I was to wear them I would risk having a government warning slapped to my thighs saying, ‘Look away, these legs will seriously damage your health.’ My legs had their place in the sun a long time ago and, now, as my far-from-perfect pins buckle under the weight of seven months of pregnancy, I wonder what these maternity-wear designers think pregnant ladies’ legs look like? I would be pretty interested in buying those legs rather than the hot pants.

So, I’m still looking for alternatives. Various websites are suggesting cat suits, quite possibly an even worse option. And most maternity shops seemed to be filled with an array of peculiar patterns and designs. I am all for a bit of retro; I grew up in the ’70s. I remember stripy woollen settees and tie-dye, but when you’re the size of a large vehicle, that’s not the best look to be considering. So now I am trying to hold myself back from a desperate emergency shopping spree in case I end up with an unwearable and mightily offensive psychedelic-themed revamped wardrobe.

You may well ask what happened to the clothes I wore during my first pregnancy? Well, in April, so convinced I wouldn’t be getting pregnant in a hurry and because I needed the space in my wardrobe, I passed my maternity clothes, bar a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, on to my mum-to-be friends. In May, I discovered I was pregnant. My last, precious pair of maternity jeans shrunk in the wash after a first re-wearing (honest) and the T-shirt became badly stained after a spag bol fight with Sam, and that was the end of that. I actually had nothing to wear. Even a belly band was out of the question as my normal clothes didn’t go past my knees.

But, luckily for me I have some very good friends (sensible girls who didn’t ditch their maternity clothes before they were certain they weren’t going to need them again) who have come to my rescue. And, although these borrowed items are also beginning to pinch – when they say you get bigger quicker second time around, they mean it – at least I won’t have to resign myself to staying in my apartment wearing sweat pants or pyjamas just yet.

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