Until recently, I felt pretty confident in the style I’ve created for myself as a queer person. One where I felt mostly cis-gendered, defiantly queer, and queerly femme. Then I had to enter the realm of pregnancy and maternity clothes and I totally lost myself.

Pregnancy itself, as much as it can be separated from the clothes I wear during it, has been one of the most gender dysphoric experiences of my life. I’ve never been more aggressively gendered as a woman, while simultaneously feeling less and less like a woman. As the fetus grew visible to people outside those intimate with my naked body, things only got worse. I was told by friends and strangers that I was beautiful, cute, or glowing. These words prior to pregnancy would have been nice compliments on my style, but as a visibly pregnant person, they seemed to be about my body rather than my style and gave me a sense of powerlessness as opposed to the ego boost they might have provided before.

Those were the experiences I had even before I found it necessary to enter the realm of maternity fashion. My style is generally a queer take on femininity and strength that is part Joan Jett and part 80s Cher with a sprinkle of Audrey Hepburn and Rihanna. Long pink nails combine with black cutoffs and knee-high socks. Lots of black with pops of neon and glitter and always a little slutty. This style, however, is decidedly not the fashion of mainstream maternity clothes. While I think a lot of big brands do understand the specific needs of pregnant bodies, such as itchy skin, growth in very specific areas, need for support, etc., they completely fail pregnant people on the style side of things, or rather they support ideas about who and what pregnant people are that simply don’t align with my values.

There were a lot of ruffles, like LOTS of ruffles. There were also prints that were so ugly that every person I knew, across style and political spectrum, agreed they should be burned. There were lots of styles that seemed to communicate softness, not in fabric choice, but in personality, and a lot of things that resembled tents with holes for arms and a head. In short, there were a lot of clothes that communicated, to me at least, that as a pregnant person my role now was to be modest, quiet, soft, gentle and feminine in a way that wasn’t seductive or sexy.

Then, of course, there was the issue of availability. Pregnancy changes bodies in very specific ways, and a lot of punk, queer, and indie clothing makers just don’t have clothes specifically designed for pregnant bodies and when they do the selection is really limited. Even big stores often only carry a small selection of their clothes for pregnant people in the store and then rest are only available online, where you can’t feel the fabric, can’t see how it falls on your specific pregnant body.

It seemed like the fashion world was trying to make me somehow smaller as I got bigger, to infantilize me and to take away my power while politicizing my body as a symbol of a very specific kind of womanhood and motherhood. I was determined to find clothes that fought back against this tidal wave of conservative motherhood, and more importantly, I was determined to find clothes that helped sustain my sense of self through pregnancy and beyond. I wanted to look and feel like me, even as my body changed.

I started with color. Black. LOTS OF BLACK. It took a lot of hunting but I was able to find black t-shirts, tank tops, shorts, and even underwear. Once I found an item I liked, I just bought three. In addition to a lot of black basics, I sustained myself by using people’s obsession with my body like a billboard. If everyone was going to be looking at my growing bump, I’d make sure it was emblazoned with Transfigure Print’s “Protect Trans Kids” design. I added the “Abortion Forever” t-shirt from AK Press in two sizes to my registry, one medium and one extra-large so I could cut it and customize the fit as I got larger. I found a backless shirt and some short shorts to help sustain my slutty sensibilities through the tidal wave of chaste pregnant woman images.

I’m writing all of this at 40 weeks at 4 days pregnant. My hospital bag is packed with a black labor gown and a neon pink and green flannel shirt I found on eBay. The clothes I was able to find really have sustained me during pregnancy. They’ve helped me maintain a sense of self, they’ve given me a sense of power, and they’ve helped me express my gender the way I experience it. But finding my style while pregnant hasn’t been easy and I hope that as more of us try to show up as our authentic pregnant selves, more of the brands we love will start showing up for us as well.