Maternity clothes. A sometimes fun, sometimes dreaded aspect of pregnancy. I was surprised by how early I needed to venture into this unfamiliar territory. My jeans stopped buttoning at 11 weeks, and I could talk about my…undergarment…sizes, but I’ll stop now, in case any male readers find themselves here. Thankfully, I had friends willing to part with, or at least share, some cute tops and dress pants – enough to make it through the work weeks. What I didn’t realize, however, was that comfy things, like favorite t-shirts and yoga pants, would also get a little snug. I remember shopping with my mom for some essentials, but they were plain t-shirts, you know, boring things.
Then one cloudy fall day, one of my favorite Catholic Instagrammers posted that she was about to launch her fall line of products. These products included clothes, and specifically… her first maternity t-shirt. YES! I was all over this. Before she even posted a preview of the top, I emailed the link to Darren, requesting it as an early Christmas gift. I knew that whatever Brick House in the City designed, I was sure to love.
Meanwhile, Philomena was always in the back of my mind. I was a bit shaken by our two back-to-back encounters with the name just weeks before. I continued the baby name search, clicking on every email from The Bump that hinted it contained new ideas. Soon, I found myself surprised that every name started to pale in comparison to Philomena. No no, I’d tell myself. Four syllables, that’s a bit excessive. Once, in the middle of the night, the name woke me up, and I spent the subsequent minutes falling asleep trying to talk myself out of it. Eventually, I gave up and told myself it would be a boy.
The days passed by. I did some research on St. Philomena, and again, tried to move on. The launch of the aforementioned fall products approached, and I remember my anticipation of the maternity t-shirt reveal. Darren was ready for the preorder discount. The shirt, I remember reading, was going to be filled with names of patron Saints of pregnancy and motherhood. Makes sense to me. Well, you guessed it: there she was. The white, bold-faced letters jumped off of their black background, creating the same reaction in me as the very first time the name appeared. Hello Philomena, we meet again.
uncharted territory 