I’m a full panel kinda girl. I require the all-torso-encompassing support of the full panel, as I don’t grow a belly first, so much as I grow a second butt and insane handles of the not so lovely variety. I’m beginning to think that my babies start growing in my tush and then migrate via my impressive muffin top to the belly and they settle and continue growing there around week 20. It’s the only thing that explains how and why my body packs it on in such a way.
Another more poetic way to think of it is that my body is like one of the great gothic cathedrals of Europe. They have flying buttresses which help support the massiveness and beauty of the cathedrals by arching out and down, thus redistributing the weight.
See? That’s exactly what my rear end and love handles are doing. They’re a support structure for the beauty and the majesty and the enormity of my growing baby and belly. They’re just not as attractive.
Who am I fooling? They’re not supporting the belly, they’re just biding their time until they can fuel my milk ducts. Poetic thought indeed.
Back to panels. I recently ordered a pair of full panel maternity skinny jeans. Biggest oxymoron of the century!