Dress shopping. I'd rather give birth; naturally.

Clothes shopping; the inalienable rite of every women around the globe. If we are happy, sad, celebrating or mourning, we, as a gender, shop.

I personally hate it with a passion I used to save for my yearly visits to the gynie.

Of course, that declaration could get me kicked out of just about every women's organization I can think of.

Now, it goes without saying that I need to shop from time to time. So, when the time comes for me to retire a ten-year old shirt or purchase new pants, I choose to buy most of my clothes on line or at the one store that I am comfortable in; Fashion Bug. Suffice it to say, I am a very classy lady.

As for dress shopping; forget it. I have not worn a dress in at least 18 years. I mean really, someone might see my legs; which actually don't' look like legs at all. More like the trunks of an old oak.

Unfortunately, there comes a time in all our lives where we are faced with doing something that we don't want to do; something that rocks our last nerve and sends shivers down our spins. It appears that I needed to purchase a dress. Yup, a dress; well a gown really.

Our oldest son is getting married and my future daughter in law, as well as my husband, requested that I not wear pants. What could I say? Could I be so selfish as to put my fears in front of my husband and daughter in laws wished? Trust me, I thought about it but ultimately, I decided that this is something I could do.

I am a mature woman of 54 years, I have raised three children and have worked all my life; I think I could muster up enough courage to buy a frigin dress.

So, for months I searched the internet looking for the perfect gown to wear to my son's wedding. It didn't occur to me to go shopping in real stores. As it was I going to order the dress of my dreams in two sizes smaller than I am now.

I was sure that I could shed enough weight to achieve this. Reality and fantasy get very fuzzy in my mind sometimes. To put that much stress on myself is just stupid. Partially because the more stressed I get, the more I eat, thus the more I gain.

All my searching paid off; I found the gown that I wanted to wear. It was beautiful; off the shoulders, age appropriate and low and behold, it came in my size.

I was so excited. I was going to purchasing this dress, lose the weight and look stunning, sexy and sassy; no frump girl for me. Every day I went on line to gaze at my almost-purchased dress.

I would fantasize at how awesome I was going to look. 80 pounds less and hot and sizzly; that was going to me. NOTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

I put off buying the dress because the weight never stated coming off and it didn't occur to me to order the dress in the appropriate size. That would have too easy. Well, little did I know that three to four months is required for ordering a designer dress.

That settled it, I was screwed. Not only had I blown my opportunity to lose the 300+, give or take, extra pounds that I was carrying, but now I didn't have a dress either. Shit, I was going to have to go to an actual store with real salespeople and dressing rooms and mirrors and strangers..... Aghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I wanted to run away and die.

Since I was not about to go alone, I enlisted my daughter in laws help. Nicole loves to shop and she is very good at it. So, on a snowy day in January we were off on a mission to buy the mama a dress.

I was nervous and excited all at the same time. I know that Nicole would never let me get anything that didn't look good, so I knew I was in good hands.

I had also approached her with the idea of a very formal pant suit. I was positive that I wouldn't find a dress that didn't make me look like the hippo in Fantasia. You remember her don't you. Dancing so delicately in a little pink tutu with the alligators.

Yup, that would be me.....a hippo in heals. But being the kind and compassionate young woman that she is, she agreed to pants IF I couldn't find a dress.

Now, with the news telling us every day that there is an epidemic of obesity in this country, you would think that I would be able to find a dress, in my size, to try on. Wrong......

We went to the mall and to all the BIG named department stores. The best I could do was find a dress, three sizes too small. Excitement doesn't describe how I felt when I was actually able to get the dress on and zipped half way.

Of course this made my breasts squish flat to my body somewhat resembling cow patties on a field on a hot summer day. But, I got the idea of the dress and I liked it. I didn't think I looked like shit in it.

I was prepared to buy the dress, in that size and take the extra pounds off in the two months left until the wedding.

Thank the lord that common sense prevailed, and Nicole, very gently told me no, I would find a dress in my size. Needless to say, I didn't get a dress that day.

Four stores and only one dress to try on. I was so upset. With me, with the stores and with me, again. What the hell was I going to do now?

I'll tell you what I was going to do, I asked my husband to go with me the following weekend. Come hell or high water I was going to get a damn dress if it killed me.

To say I was anxious is an understatement. I was a mess the morning that we were set to go. I tried in every way I could to pick a fight with Matt so we wouldn't have to go. That didn't work. I underestimated my man. He knew exactly what I was doing and wouldn't take the bait.

After discussing the choices, or lack there of, we decided on Davids Bridals. We were hoping that there would be at least a few dresses for me to try on.

What an experience. Once in the door we were in a sea of at least twenty young girls, all giddy with excitement at the prospect of finding the perfect prom dress. Not one of these girls weighed more than 100 pounds. I wanted to turn around right then and there and leave.

Good God what was I thinking.

Once we were able to wade through the teenie boppers we were met by a very pleasant woman asking me what it was I was looking for. I informed her I was the mother of the groom and needed a gown.

Back wall and to the left, that's were we were to look. Guess what, I found lots of dresses, in my size. Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all.

With my heart lifted, Matt and I pull out three dresses for me to try on and off to the dressing rooms we went.

Since it was a weekend and very crowded, each person in need of a dressing room was assigned one by a specific salesperson.

Stephanie was very pleasant and she escorted us to room 30. It was tucked away at the back of the store away from the screaming and giddy girls. Thank the lord.

Let the fashion show begin. Matt took a seat in our little cubby and I proceeded to strip down and try on some dresses.

Fashions have changed so much over the years since I wore dresses. The first dress I tried on was pretty. It was a periwinkle blue sleeveless dress with jacket. The top was too big and the tummy area was too small but I did like it; and so did Matt.

Things were looking up. One dress on and two to go. My second choice was a champagne satin number. I loved this dress but the more I looked at it the more I realized it was just too much dress for a lady of my size. If I put a paper tab out of my head I would have resembled a Hershey kiss. The third dress that I had chosen made me look like a 50 year old woman who was trying to look 25.

Not knowing what to do, Stephanie suggested we look through the dresses again; maybe we would see something else that would peak my interest. She was right, well kind of.

The first little number that I found to try on was an electric blue strapless satin dress with a bolero jacket. Lord have mercy I looked awful. I walked out of the dressing room to show my husband and without missing a beat he said, "Jesus you look like a Vampire". He was right. I hadn't thought of that but he was right. I had thought I looked like the sheets on a king sized bed in a sleezie four-hour hotel.

The next little diddie that I tried on was just as awful. I didn't even get out of the dressing before Matt very matter of factly said, "Nope".

Now, the next choice was one that I didn't like but Stephanie assured me that it was very flattering style. Picture this; rows and rows of fabric about three inches wide each, layered over each other. When I put this little frock on I looked like a venetian blind for an enormous bay window. It was awful.

Back into my little room for the last dress of the day.

I was convinced that this dress was not going to fit me because of the style. Once again I was proven wrong. Not only did it fit, but I loved it. I actually smiled. With all the other dresses, even the two that I liked, I frowned, sighed and made faces in the mirror. This time, I actually smiled my biggest smile and could actually see myself the day of the wedding in this gown.

With butterflies in my stomach, I walked out of the dressing room, turned to my husband and just beamed. Much to my relief, Matt not only loved me in this dress, but was almost speechless. He told me I looked beautiful.

Ladies, I don't care how long you are married, those words are music to a women's ears. He loved it, I loved it and it fit.

My search was over; I had a dress and I loved it. I had survived and came out unscathed. Life was good.

Jesus Lord, I have one more child to get married...... Here's hoping that he doesn't want me to wear a dress too.... I don't think I could do this again.