Being pregnant can present a number of challenges, not the least of which is the monumental task of getting dressed in the morning. You genuinely don’t know from one morning to the next what will fit. I have finally started to show and am in what I affectionately call the “fat chick at the bar” stage. My apologies to any portly bar flies who might be reading this. What I mean is that I am not obviously pregnant to folks that don’t know me and because I have a paralyzing aversion to the sailor collar, bell shirt, and general “Look at me, I am with child and virginal looking at the same time” style of maternity clothing, I end up wearing larger sizes of…