I am no stranger to going against what is “acceptable”. At 15 I had my tongue pierced and walked around school in a shirt that said “Porn Star”. I work in an office and have a chest tattoo. I do what I want. I generally say what I want. People can go fuck themselves if they don’t like it.
But, in a few weeks…I’ll be a pregnant bride. Pregnant bride. Just saying those two words together makes me cringe a little, no matter how excited I am about getting married to the love of my life.
Even in this day and age (which really isn’t saying much since people are still fighting for their right to be recognized as married couples and people get bullied for being different) there is still a stigma associated with being a pregnant bride, isn’t there? Or is it just me and my Southern upbringing? Women obviously do it all the time, as is evident by the amount of maternity wedding dresses I perused online, but I just never thought that I would be one. No one ever does, though, I suppose. I don’t imagine little girls picturing their big day coming with swollen ankles and a bulging stomach, but you never know.
I just never thought that I would have to buy a maternity wedding dress. I never thought that I would get married and not be able to have a traditional bachelorette party. I shouldn’t say that I can’t, because I totally could. The question is: do I really want to go to clubs or bars and watch my friends get completely plastered and not be able to join them? Not really. Not in the least.
I got over the first
fear hump today and bought my dress. It’s lovely and I would post a picture, but the groom reads my blog and I’m keeping it hush-hush. I’m very happy with it. I just hope it fits right. Not knowing what my body will be like in just a month is scary.
I’ll get over not having my “last day of freedom” (which I think people take a little too literally in this town anyway) by being blase about the whole thing.
Whatever. I don’t need a bachelorette party.
So I’ll have a little baby bump on the day I get married…so what? Right? Who the hell cares? This whole “caring what other people think” problem that I’ve developed since I got pregnant is getting old. Because, seriously, if this chick doesn’t give a shit, then I don’t have to either!
At least I’m going to wear clothes instead of a bed sheet with a hole in it. Sheesh.
- 9 Ways to Go Classy For Your Next Bachelorette Party (bellasugar.com)