Fearless Writing, Day 4: I Have Big Boobs

Boobs. Jugs. Titties. Tatas. Chi-chis. Dirty Pillows.

I got ’em.

Size H.

H as in Holy Shit, I said to my doctor. He laughed.

I wasn’t sure if I was happy he joined in the joke or offended. Which is basically how I feel about my boobs most of the time.

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Things I’ve heard said about me/my boobs over the years:

“She’s the one with the really big boobs”

“Doesn’t it hurt when you run?”

“You would have thought your boobs would have gotten smaller with all the training you do.”

“I’m surprised you don’t have two black eyes!”

“Are those real?”

“Those are baby feeding boobs!”

“More than a mouthful is a waste.”

And that’s just to name a few.

I thought that after breastfeeding two children for about 7 years straight (yes, I am one of  “those” moms, I’m sure I’ll be writing about that over the next 100+ days), they would shrivel up like dried grapes. In fact, I was looking forward to rolling them up like a used tube of toothpaste and shoving them into a tiny bra.

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But no. They just got bigger.

Goodbye DD, hello H.

In fact, they are like melons.

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I think I left that off the list of fun nicknames for boobs at the beginning.

 

Melons. Casabas. Cantaloupes. Honeydew.

I’m sorry, is that supposed to be a compliment?

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To be continued…

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(you know, the one with the big boobs….)

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