I never understood the connection between moms and yoga parents (regardless of whether or not they even did yoga). That is, of course, until I became a mom. After living for close to a year in stretchy fabrics without the hassle and confines of buttons and zippers. After having soft bands of cotton-polyester blends stretch unnoticeably across my growing belly. No one wants to go back to real waistbands, dresses with shape, and shirts with buttons to fiddle with.
I remember the day months out from being pregnant that I was in earnest looking on Zappos at some jeans by a brand I’d never heard of called Jag. They reminded me of the pants that, as a kid, I’d sometimes see advertised in my grandma’s copies of Reader’s Digest or my mom’s Family Circle magazine. The ads where there are eight identical pairs of legs lined up modeling the colors that the pants are available in. The photos always stopped at the waist which showed off the elastic band of the pants. Sometimes you could order multiple pairs for a special offer price. As I child I would flip past the ad with little interest other than to wonder, who actually orders these? And here I was, thirty-some years later, staring at a similarly shaped pair of pants on Zappos and actually considering clicking “add to cart.”
My labor was over 40 hours, and while not overly complicated, my recovery and healing were both of those. I was told at one point that my “lady parts are a mystery.” I had a minor tear that never healed properly. I had painful granulation tissue that refused to fall off even after being cauterized. And I had a mysterious rash that liked to appear and reappear on my nether regions. All of this made it difficult to stand and walk for any length of time for almost a year. I was so uncomfortable that I become obsessed with seeking what little comfort I could through my clothing choices.
I would go to baby and me yoga and then just never change out of my leggings. Even after I shrunk out of my maternity clothes, I attempted to continue to wear them. I recently went to a “nice” restaurant in leggings! I had long resented the popularity of leggings (and everything else that was styled after the eighties of my childhood), but now I am all about putting together outfits that feel like pajamas but don’t look like them. I started following the Instagram account @businesspajamas for style inspiration. If it is not made of jersey cotton, don’t bother buying it. Stitchfix recently included a pair of jeans with an elasticized waist, and despite holding them up with a wrinkled nose after pulling them out of the box, I have worn them at least once a week since, and I’m grouchy on the days when I find them in the dirty clothes pile.
Momhood comes with lots of aches and pains. Long past the aftermath of labor there are daily headaches and weird shoulder and elbow issues from the constant hoisting and wrestling of little squirming bodies. These bodily bumps and bruises are compounded by lack of sleep and too early mornings. Moms end up spending a lot time in a state of minor discomfort. Why make it worse by wearing anything other than yoga pants? I get it now, ladies. I get it.