Too Big for My Britches

Now that I'm in my third trimester I have the daunting task of finding more maternity clothes to fit over these two growing babies. Specifically shirts. The problem I face is that I am smaller on top but very round in the middle. So shirts that fit my shoulders do not cover my belly. At first I didn't think this would be a big deal and that I would just go up a size in maternity shirts...so, off to the store I went.
When I got there, there was a sweet young lady (about 5-10 years younger than me that clearly had not had her body alerted by pregnancy) who started a dressing room for me. I picked things off the rack that I thought might cover my belly, and still keep me cool in this heat we've been having. From time to time she would check on me and take the clothes I picked back to the dressing room...very non-invasive. Then I made my way over to the bra section to get a new size for the THIRD time and WHOOPS, there she was right behind me asking if I knew what size I was. I told her my estimate, she sized me up and then asked, "can I measure you?".
I knew where she was going with this having worked my way through my junior year of college at Victoria Secret. There is this system that people in the undergarment world have come up with that is supposed to be a sure-fire way to determine what bra size you are, ranging from the band to the cup size.
I declined her offer twice, knowing her tactics wouldn't work on me, but was growing tired of her asking and caved in the third time. (Apparently she thought she knew something that I didn't.) So she busts out her cute little measuring tape (pun intended) and wraps it around me in the three areas that she has been trained to do. We all know where this is going. Her measurements clearly contradicted my estimation (and entire life experience of living in my body and clothing it for years) and she announced to me that I was wrong about the size I was choosing. For some unknown reason I engaged her in an explanation of why her size would not work and gave her several examples of why I was confident in my decision, but again she persisted. The heat in the place was getting to me, so I wasn't thinking clearly and I allowed her to pick two of her sizes for me while I brought in the size I knew would fit me. Looking back, I have no idea why I put up with this, I remember feeling like I was in a cloud and in physical pain all at the same time, so I must not have been with it enough to kindly shut her down.
We ventured into the dressing room and I tried my bra choice on first as she looked for more long shirts for me to try. Yep, it fit just the way I wanted it to. Then, only to extend the craziness I waited until she came back and asked me how it fit to show her that it fit perfectly. "Oh no," she said, "if you have two months to go, you're going to grow out of that." The first thing that went through my mind was, "um, have you every been pregnant...with twins for that matter?". Of course I answered my own question and decided to try her choices on. Sure enough they didn't fit for the exact reasons that I told her they wouldn't. She insisted that I would grow into them. At this point I had heard enough about my growing and just decided to let it go.
I tried on all of the shirts, (like 30 of them) none of which fit. They were to big in the shoulders and the back. And at this point I was officially exhausted. I had to get out of there. It must have been God with me that day that kept me from giving that girl more attitude than I must have, and to top it all off, because she did assist me for so long and all I walked out with was one top after 2 grueling hours, I told her supervisor what a wonderful job she had done and agreed to fill something out online that would look good on her record. So weird.
So, anyway, I'm not sure how I'm going to keep this belly covered for the rest of the pregnancy, and I'm going to have to take a couple more breaths before attempting the bra thing again. But I'm looking forward to the future, and have learned two great lessons. Number one, never let someone younger and cuter assist you in a clothing store, and number two keep your privates private...no one else knows them like you do.