undercover

The idea of running around on the beach halfnaked made me feel more than a little queasy before our holiday. Wearing a bikini is not on my top 10 list of favourite activities anyway. So how would it feel with a massive belly? My safety net: this kaftan from Rodebjer, which doesn’t just cover the bump but the two metric tons of Rittersport whole almonds I somehow must’ve eaten since becoming pregnant.

Turns out that I’ve never felt as comfortable in a bikini as I do now. On the one hand: Hello, Pamela Anderson (and a bum the size of California)! On the other hand: So what? I’m almost eight months pregnant. The bigger I’m getting, the less self-conscious I feel about my shape, something which used to occupy my thoughts a lot more before. As I keep growing so does the realisation that my body is building a new person. An endeavour that requires a lot of energy. And mass. I’m constantly amazed that I’d be capable of something like that. A human powerhouse.

I’d be lying if I said that there aren’t also those days when I look down from my desk and think: excuse me, who do these thighs belong to? When I get frustrated with my lack of fitness and I ask myself if I’ll ever have something resembling a biceps again. Then I try to tell myself that yes, I will. Probably when I start carrying around a little bundle all day in about two months time.

For every tight t-shirt I’ve started wearing that shows off my belly, something I’d never have felt comfortable doing before, I still love this kaftan. Not because it hides me. But because it’s light, easy and beautiful. And still will be once I’m not waddling belly first through life anymore.