Does this pattern make my butt look big? The skinny on sewing Fat Underwear

For some reason I decided that I don't feel enough like a failure on a daily basis, so I would attempt to sew my wardrobe this year.
In all honesty, my reasons are sound. I want to have high quality clothing in cuts and fabrics I love. Plus, I think that actually having to make everything by hand will open my and my children's eyes to our consumerist nature and habit and hopefully change it. And it's totally homeschool friendly! Color matching, measuring, lines and curves. I can justify my fabric addiction in a million ways.... But really,  this year I'm all about downsizing, simplifying, minimalism. Diet Kon Mari, not quite Kon Mari enough.
I was already going that direction before I got pregnant with #4. I had a capsule wardrobe, and I loved it, of course the fact that I was happy with my body and my wardrobe meant that I was immediately to fall pregnant.
Now #4 is here and I am just.... fat. Fluffy, squishy, rolls, thighs for days, they each need their own zipcode. To be fair, It took 9 months to put it on and I'm only 7 weeks post partum, but I can't go around in a toga until I lose the weight, right? And the last thing I want to do is go to a fitting room with 3-4 sizes and 4 kids. So, I figured I would sew.
It's a great goal, but maybe next time I shouldn't start with underwear. I happened to get this great scrap in a mystery bag. Just enough for a Brazi and the bottoms from the George & Ginger "I heart you" set. I read the pattern and I see that I am an XL-XXL, gulp. Well I knew I was 30lb heavier. I cut out the pattern and lay it on my fabric. It takes almost all of what I thought was a nice large scrap as I need to cut two. I try NOT to think about how that amount of fabric could probably make a whole primitive village clothes, I just cut and pin and sew the crotch seams together and hold them up to realize, really realize to the cream center of my being.... SHIT Am I really THAT big? These things look HUGE sitting on sewing table, like they could be parachutes for leprechauns or something, the kick in the teeth is that they barely hold my Assets.
I'm not going to lie. I put them down and walked away. I didn't add the band to the waist hem, I did not pass go and collect 200.00 (which I would totally spend in fabric). I allowed myself to be defeated by half completed definitely plus size underwear.
I moped around for a few minutes, not sure what to do. Sewing was supposed to my happy place, and the thunder and lightning of my thighs had stolen that.I dejectedly mention to husband that maybe I should not have started by sewing adventure by making underwear. "Use them as a motivator" he says. I am motivated, very motivated, to go find a chocolate chip cookie. Of course, we don't have any because we are actually reasonably healthy. Instead I throw caution to the wind and make coffee, at like 10pm, with lots of creamer, totally living on the edge in my despair.
They sit there still mocking me. I will finish them today, I will own my body and it's flaws. Part of my desire to do this after all was to get away from the style and size boxes that society tries to fit us all in, to do away with the comparisons and bust out and fly free of the mass markets pre-conceived ideas of what garments for my size should be. I will not be contained (see what I did there?) in the worlds Size 2 goldilocks dreams.  I will not be defeated by myself or the more accurately the image I think I need to be. The biggest baddest obstacle any of us really face is disappointment. If we can live through disappointment, especially disappointment in ourselves and move past our failures, we can overcome almost everything. The underwear will not be a symbol of my defeat at the hand of baby weight, it will be a symbol of my victory over my self depreciation and my need for body image that isn't mine....and french seams.

This is me, becoming unraveled

I have decided that screaming into the infinite abyss of the internet is probably an ok thing to do. Worst case scenario, no one reads it. Best case scenario, no one reads it. It's in no way an attempt to not feel alone, to connect, so scream my significance into the gaping chasm of "likes" and "swipes" and hope for an echo back. Someone to say "You're ok, I'm ok." and then like my post and share it on Facebook.
This is me, dropping my delusions and dreams of grandeur and taking a hard honest look at myself, who I am and who I want to become. This is me adulting, not looking for a more adulti-er adult, but putting on my granny panties and adulting to my upmost. This is me being accountable to myself to make the necessary positive changes I want to and need to make- to move confidently toward and into the future, a master of my own emotions and destiny through the magic of adulting, planning, goal setting, working hard. This is me becoming unraveled.