New shoe anxiety

I don't know how many pairs of shoes I have tried on in my life time, but the number is easily in the hundreds if not thousands. Well, I hope the number is not in the thousands! That is an awful lot of time to spend trying on different pairs of shoes. 

I am currently living in shoe limbo. Like most pregnant women, my feet got bigger while I was incubating my little darling. By the end of the pregnancy, I was living in flip-flops and my Crocs clogs. I understand that for some women the increase in shoe size is permanent, but other women go back to their old shoe size about six months after delivering their bundle of joy. So right now I am stuck! I need new shoes, but I don't want to spend a lot of money on new shoes if I'm going to be able to wear my old shoes again. Fortunately, the baby and I spend most of our days hibernating at home; I don't think the dirty laundry and dishes are critiquing my footwear. (And Nathan would only notice my shoes if they were on fire). 

But even if I won't be strolling the streets of Manhattan or Paris anytime soon, I still need new shoes! I've started taking baby girl on a walk almost every morning, but my old walking shoes are a bit too snug for my post-pregnancy feet. They make my feet hurt like hell, and that's the last thing a new mother needs.

So I ordered these bad boys from Amazon:

I love them! Green is my favorite color, and the green of these shoes is my absolute favorite shade of green. 

But. 

I can't tell if the shoes fit right. They might be just a smidge too tight for the toes. But I know if I go up a size, they will be way too big. This is where my new shoe anxiety sets in. Will the shoes stretch as I wear them? Maybe the shoes fit perfectly, and a week from now they will be molded perfectly to my feet. Or, maybe the shoes will not stretch enough, and I will have wasted 60 bucks on a pair shoes that do not fit. Oh, the inhumanity!

This really shouldn't be such a dilemma. After all, I have tried on countless pairs of shoes. With my experience, I should know instinctively whether or not the shoes will stretch to fit. But no, like every other pair of shoes I've tried on before, I am going to agonize and fret over whether the shoes work or not for my feet. And if I decide to keep the shoes, I will secretly doubt myself and worry I kept an uncomfortable pair of shoes just because I thought they were cute. In other words, time that could be used productively doing, oh, anything else will be squandered on these pedestrian concerns. Damn my new shoe anxiety!