Moobs

Title translation: mom boobs.  I'm about to alienate my male readership, meaning my page views can be expected to drop from 16 down to 14, but it's a risk I have to take. And so down the slippery slope of "Too Much Information" (or TMI for you tech savvy people out there) blogging I slink.
I don't know a single woman who likes bra shopping under the best of circumstances.  Any men who are still reading are probably scratching their heads saying, "Really, Shelby?  I thought it was swim suit shopping that was the most detested by the fairer sex!"  While I applaud you men for your sensitive and empathetic observation, you are wrong.  While swim suit shopping is not fun, you can give up and resolve yourself to wearing a festively printed muumuu whilst lounging in the sand and sun.

The muumuu, aka The Problem Solver.

A bra however, cannot be avoided or substituted for.  When the last one you managed to purchase is being held together with safety pins, it is time subject yourself to the brightly lit, too small, too warm fitting room at an establishment where the staff are either too perky or too sullen.  Despite their variations in mood, all employees will have a tape measure around their necks, with which they are waiting to assault you.  Aside from all of this, the male readers are still wondering, "How can it be that bad?"  Unfortunately, men, we women cannot just pick up a 3 pack of Jockeys or Hanes in medium and know that they will fit.  Based on the store, the brand, or the style, not to mention fluctuations in weight you can never count on being the same size.  
All of this is totally separate from the horror of shopping for a bra while pregnant. But even that wasn't as bad as what I experienced yesterday.  You moms out there may have guessed that yesterday I had the distinct pleasure of shopping for a nursing bra.
Can I just say that if the fabric wasn't such a utilitarian beige, nursing bras would be almost dominatrix like, what with their strange clasps and oddly placed cut outs.  As the fabric is so steadfastly practical and bland however, there can be no mistaking that these are undergarments with one purpose, and one purpose only.  Visions of those stainless steel farm apparatus used in the cow shed come to mind.  Not only are these garments decidedly un-pretty, they are also really expensive.  And when it comes to size, you are forced to rely on the staff and their dastardly measuring tapes to help you make an educated guess, because while no one will mistake the nursing bra for an item found in the dressing room at an establishment called Show Girls or the like, the body parts they house would look right at home in that same dressing room, or so I'm told.
I survived the experience yesterday, just barely.  After leaving the fitting room strewn with crumpled beige rejects from end to end, I emerged, triumphant and out of breath, ONE tolerable option clutched in my sweaty palms.  
Thanks to my sister for her help in making this traumatic experience bearable. Ladies, if this will be your first time buying one of these horrific contraptions my advice to you is do not do it alone!!  You need a sponsor who will encourage you to take it one bra at a time.  Otherwise the burden may just become too difficult to bear.
Yours in melodrama,
Shelby