Our maternity section

So my sister and I were together for a road trip and some family things over the weekend. Saturday night we were tired from driving all day, and getting ready to grab some dinner. I go to put on a pair of pants that used to be my big and comfy pants, pre-parasite. Now, they are my tight and stupid pants.

Shopping for maternity clothes is just not fun for me. I could go on and on with what they do wrong, but I'll be brief.
To sum things up, I am not a sunken chested lady to begin with. Pregnancy does nothing to make the situation smaller. While many women are "excited" about their special new pregnancy boobs, mine have become two watermelons on the front of my chest that cannot be shoved into clothes of any normal size. That's right. Belly fits in the maternity clothes, giant hooters do not. On the other hand, half of the pants I try on seem to say "I am wearing depends, and I have been crapping in them for days on end."
Why the vast difference in sizes, I am not sure, but let's just say, there is a big one, and maternity clothes are sized for women who are normally flat with a giant ass.

So I am shopping with my sister, who has informed me that my pants are too tight(uh huh-trust me, I can tell), to try to find maternity clothes I can wear for the second half of this "miracle". After looking in a few places, I try to tell her that one of her favorite department stores does not have maternity. She insists, so we head into the store and are pointed toward the very top and far back corner of the building. How on earth could I have missed this, before? I think this is cruel, to begin with. Seriously, is it necessary to hide maternity sections and make a giant, swollen woman hobble across the store to find something to cover herself with? No, it isn't.

The shameful part is when we get to the top of the store, and are standing in front of "The Maternity Section" and still have to ask where it is. No joke, it was right there in front of us. All one rack of it. There was an ugly polyester blend pant in 2colors, and a shirt in 2 colors. To be exact, when we asked, the saleswoman pointed and said "do you see that maroon shirt?".

That's it. It comes in green, too.
After my sciatic nerve, back aching, tired footed ass waddled across the universe of the store, they present me with a choice of two pants, or two shirts.
When we came home to tell Mr. W about our trip, I suggested to him that the purpose of that maternity section was simply for the odd case of a pregnant woman peeing herself, splitting her pants, or having her nipples leak while she is shopping.
Marketing genius like this sends a distinct message to pregnant women. "You ain't gonna like the outfit, but it's dry, the seams are still there, and it comes in 3 sizes."
Woohoo.