When I was little I would put on my black leotard and stuff the chest of it with rolled up socks or oranges and act like I had boobs. #becarefulwhatyouwishfor
I distinctly remember going to the laundromat with my mom and her good friend, Cindy, when I was 7 or 8. While they talked I sat on the counter and put my mom’s bra on over my clothes. They warned me – “Someday you will have them, Jessie. Don’t be in such a rush to grow up.”
They were right – even though I was a late bloomer.
I didn’t start to develop breasts until after my freshman year of high school…and then it was all systems go to this day. Here I am, almost 51 and I think they have grown just a little bit everyday since I was 14.
The stupid comments and insulting questions began almost immediately once I filled out my bra. A guy I dated when I was in 10th grade joked “more than a mouthful is a waste”. [He’s the same one who said talking to me was like talking to a brick wall, so there you have it. #delightful]
Then, since I was a track athlete, I began to get the classic, “How do you run with those?” or “I’m surprised you don’t have two black eyes!” #neverheardthatbefore
Because I was so fit in those days I often was asked if my boobs were “real”. I even had boobs when I did a bodybuilding show!
As time went on I got used to the stares [#myeyesareuphere] and tasteless comments. I shrugged it off – what else was there to do?
Eventually I got married and had my children. I breastfed them both – and felt for once like my breasts were there for a good reason and being put to good use. I didn’t care that they were big, they were feeding my babies!
I breastfed my daughter until she was four (yes, 4!) and my son until he was three, so I essentially breastfed for over 7 years (with 6 months off in between the two of them). And I set a good example for my daughter:
I thought perhaps my breasts would deflate after all that breastfeeding – and I was fine with having saggy, flat boobs. “I’ll just roll ’em up like socks and tuck ’em in a small bra” I thought. #againwiththesocks
But no. Nature had other plans which did not include deflating my breasts, In fact, they grew. And grew. And grew.
Today, as I write this, I am overflowing in my 38H bra.
I have permanent indentations on my shoulders from my bra straps and near constant neck and back pain. I have headaches almost daily – and if I wear a racerback bra (or rather, braS) the headaches and neck pain are severe.
I get horrific heat rash between and below my breasts. When we moved into this house I wore an underwire bra during the move and it rubbed me raw under my boobs. It smelled like meat and was so painful! #theuglytruth
I have literally strapped my boobs up when trying to do a shoulder stand in yoga class – otherwise it’s impossible to not feel like I am suffocating myself. I have to hold my chest when I run and my tennis swing is impeded. And grown ass men STILL refer to me as “the one with big boobs.” I can not fully express how much I HATE that.
So, I am doing something about it.
Tomorrow I am having breast reduction surgery. I’m 95% super excited and 5% nervous, and still a little incredulous that it is actually happening. I’ve thought about this for about 10 years, so to have it finally less than 24 hours away is mind-boggling and surreal.
I have to admit, I feel some sadness about it too – mostly because these are the breasts I fed my babies with…
Apparently we did a good job, since they are healthy young adults now!
I have read that breast reduction surgery is the most highly rated surgery of its kind in terms of post-surgery satisfaction and the most common comment is that patients wish they had done it sooner.
So while I am excited, thrilled, looking-forward to, and relieved to be having it done, I mindfully acknowledge a little sadness and apprehension about the change…
..because it’s a big one!
Stay tuned for the post-op update!