Victoria’s Secret: Why I Have to Say Goodbye

Please try to understand, Vicky “It’s not you, it’s me.”

                Let me make one thing clear.  I love Victoria Secrets’ bras.  Despite the price, they are of excellent construction, they last forever, they make the girls look great, and they are sexy.  The last two items on that list are the problem.

                I have been married for twelve years.  In theory, I would want to keep the romance alive with sexy lingerie.  And I do.  But in the past ten years, every time I shop at Vicky’s I end up pregnant.  I’m not kidding.

The first time, it was intentional.  I was ready to start a family but my husband wanted to wait.  When I asked him how long he thought that wait should be, he shrugged and said.  “I don’t know.  Maybe a year or two or five, we’ll see.”  I frowned.  A week later, I ended up trolling the Victoria Secrets’ store looking for a sexy ensemble to kick start baby making.  Nine months and two weeks later, Madelyn was born.  She was a week late.

The thing that women don’t know about having a baby, or at least I didn’t, was that it completely wrecks your body.  So after a year when I finally had my body back, I made a second trip to Vicky’s to celebrate.  No sexy lingerie this time, just some nice matching sets of bras and underwear.

Ten months later, Kathryn was born.  Coincidence, I said to myself.  But the seeds of superstition were planted.  I stayed away from Victoria Secrets for a long time. 

Finally our second child potty trained, we declared ourselves done having children.  “No more diapers for us.”  We said.  In our minds, we had closed that chapter of our lives.  I thought I was safe.  I made a third trip to Victoria’s Secrets.  No matching sets this time.  Just some bras and underwear from the super sale bins.

Six weeks later, we are on vacation.  The best vacation in five years, because we didn’t have a little one in diapers.  The children could play while we relaxed for a few minutes.  While sitting on the deck, looking over the lake, it suddenly occurred to me that I hadn’t started my period.  I said to my husband.  “I think I’m late.”

He responds.  “But we’re done having kids.”

One pregnancy test later, it was confirmed.  My third trip to Victoria’s secrets has resulted in a third pregnancy. 

           For this reason, Vicky, we can’t see each other anymore.  I have three kids.  I am trying to launch a writing career.  I can’t have another baby and so I can’t step foot into your store.  Please try to understand.  “It’s not you, it’s me.”