Wedding Dress.

You might remember I bought my wedding dress when I was in my second trimester (just starting it). I picked this particular dress because, for one, I loved it, and also because it was forgiving enough to accommodate whatever my post-baby body decided to be.

I was back to my pre-pregnancy weight a month after she was born. No, I'm not bragging. And if you're jealous might I remind you that my rapid weight-loss had a lot to do with being too sick to eat and throwing up a lot and having multiple colonscopies with two days of fasting and, you know, having Crohn's Disease. I don't recommend this weight loss plan.

But still, none of my old clothes fit me the same. They probably never will again. And the thing is, I don't really care so much. I've heard people say this a lot, and I've always secretly rolled my eyes at the sentiment, but I'm genuinely more proud of my body now than I ever thought I would be. Because I saw a baby come out of it. Screw a perfect stomach.

I got to try on my dress today to get it fitted. Like I said, I picked this dress because it flowed away from my stomach. I forgot that there's a corseted sheath underneath. Dear god the seamstress didn't forget, though. She laced me in that thing so tight that I'm pretty sure a nine-month-pregnant woman could hide her bump.

Addy came with us, of course. Luckily my mom was there to help out, but I still wanted to grab her so many times while the seamstress tucked away every last alteration. (She was fussing. Reflux.) But my mom took over so I could avoid getting her recently ultra-chunky spit up on my wedding dress.

You better believe I'll be holding her during the wedding and reception, though. Does anyone make a formal burp rag? I need to get on the search.