How I Got Dressed During Pregnancy and Still Felt Like Myself

I really enjoy clothes. Like, really.

Not in a designer-label, name-brand kind of way. I enjoy textures, patterns, colors, and the way a certain cut can change how you feel in your body. I think it goes back to being somewhat deprived of that expression growing up. I attended private school for most of my life, which meant uniforms during all of my formative years. That doesn’t leave much room to explore personal style.

So college was the first time I got to actually think about what I was wearing every day. It also happened to be the rise of the fashion blog era. I had always read Vogue, but that world often felt out of reach. Fashion blogs made style feel accessible. Real people in real outfits at real events, all over the world. It was super exciting, and if I’m honest, a tiny bit overwhelming.

But as a college student with a limited income and coming from a low to middle income, I had only ever experienced clothes as practical, not expressive. This means there were some questionable outfit choices along the way 😂 . But it was important trial and error because I learned what works for me: what fit my body, lifestyle, and how I wanted to present myself to the world.

Over time, I developed something close to a personal uniform; a small number of outfit combinations for each and every occasion. I knew my proportions. I knew what I could move comfortably in. And I knew what felt like me (arguably the most important one!). Getting dressed stopped being a guessing game and became something I could do with enjoyment and ease.

When Pregnancy Changed the Rules

And then pregnancy changed the rules.

My first pregnancy was during law school, so I was able to live in leggings and oversized sweaters. There was no real pressure to get dressed beyond comfort. But this time was different. I had a job, and needed to look professional every day. At the same time, I was often uncomfortable due to all sorts of rib pain, back pain, and sciatic nerve pain. So comfort wasn’t optional, but neither was showing up.

At first, I got away with making my existing wardrobe work. I existed in elastic waist skirts, loose blouses, and oversized sweaters. And for a while, that held up. But as my body kept changing, getting dressed started to feel less like routine and more like a daily negotiation. What fits today? What still looks appropriate? What can I actually sit, walk, and work in for a full day?

By the third trimester, it became clear that I needed to adjust more intentionally. And by adjust, I mean buy maternity clothes. Trying to squeeze into my old clothes wasn’t just uncomfortable, it didn’t make sense anymore. So I made a practical decision. I had about six weeks left of work before maternity leave, and I didn’t need a whole new wardrobe. I just needed a few key pieces.

I bought a small rotation of outfits, aligned with my “uniform”, that I could repeat without overthinking it. A couple pairs of maternity pants, a handful of blouses that had some give, and a few dresses that didn’t require constant adjusting throughout the day. Nothing complicated. Just enough to get me through.

And in the middle of that, I realized something else was shifting too. Before pregnancy, getting dressed felt more creative. During pregnancy, it became more about utility and consistency. I wasn’t trying to reinvent my style. I was trying to maintain it in a way that made sense for the season I was in.

I repeated outfits more than I normally would. I stuck to the same color palette. I paid more attention to the small details that made me feel put together, even when the outfit itself was simple. I wasn’t trying to look like the pre-pregnancy version of me. I was trying to look like a recognizable version of me.

What This Season Actually Required

And that mattered more than I expected.

Because the truth is, the pressure to be seen didn’t go away during pregnancy. If anything, it increased. There’s something about pregnancy that makes people feel very comfortable commenting on your body. Comments (about your size, face, clothes, etc) they likely wouldn’t make otherwise.

Even when the comments aren’t malicious, they remind you that you’re being observed in a different way. And for me, that made it even more important to feel presentable and grounded in how I was showing up.

So I kept things simple where I could. On weekends, I rotated through a couple pairs of maternity jeans and otherwise leaned on my husband’s shirts and sweatshirts. I was pregnant during the winter, which helped. Layering did a lot of the work for me. And while I don’t typically buy clothes in bulk or from lower-cost retailers, this felt like a practical exception. Because this was a short season. I didn’t need investment pieces. I just needed solutions.

Looking back, this season wasn’t really about maternity style. It was about adjusting without overcomplicating things. It was about maintaining a sense of self while letting my body do something completely different. It was about deciding what mattered, letting go of what didn’t, and making practical choices in real time.

And now, without the belly, I can look back at those photos and feel good about how I showed up. Not because every outfit was perfect, but because I stayed consistent with myself.