A.k.a. Breasts, Tits, Ta-Tas, Fun Bags, Jugs, Puppies, Knockers... (Thanks to the hubby for helping me comprise this list, lol.)
I live everyday in what I call BE or Boob Envy. Z (my heterosexual life mate, or, as the cool kids are saying these days my 'bestie') has amazing boobs. They're hell, I don't know, double Qs or something, and all natural. She was just born with amazing, envious boob genes. I, on the other hand, got stuck with the short end of the boob gene stick. My mom has boobs, my sister has boobs, most of my aunts on my mom's side have boobs. I got my dad's side of the family boob gene pool- nothing.
And then my son came along.....
Born 10 pounds, 15.8 ounces, he came out a 3 month old linebacker for the Green Bay Packers. No matter how much I fed him, it wasn't enough. I quickly found out that the whole 'supply and demand' thing they tell you about breastfeeding- the more they demand, the more your supply increases thing- is complete bullshit. I fed that boy sometimes 8-10 times a day, and my supply never increased. So, after much crying and knowing what was best for my son, I quit breastfeeding and switched him to formula. Bye bye boobs....
Bs are what I was left with, and full Bs are debatable. The substance to my boobs was gone; I was left with the skin to hold full Cs, but only enough fatty tissue to maybe feed a cat on a cold day. Major bummer, because by this point in my life I had a 5'5" 145 pound frame; bigger boobs were needed to balance out my tummy pooch and ass. So, I decided to lose weight- get back down to 120/125 pounds, and then my boobs wouldn't look so small. Yeah, great plan and all, except for the fact that I lost weight in my boobs in the process. How does that even happen? There wasn't much there to lose, but I managed to accomplish it. Still left with barely B cups somehow, but at least they now looked better on 125 pound frame- kinda like Ashley Judd or Charlize Theron, and I was completely okay with that.
I never got my boobs. Tax money needed to go elsewhere, bills grew, the bike wash came and went- along with me. I moved from that town about 2 months after the bike wash, but knew I would be moving before then, so I kept my money, prepared to leave the tattooing world to create a better environment for my kids, and made a serious life change. No more focus on me or my boobs, it was now about repairing my family and reconnecting with my kids. Totally worth it.
I do worry that, in the future if I ever get my boobs, of what it could do to my daughter. I don't want her thinking mommy's this vain, shallow person that only cares about her looks. I'm not a huge fan of plastic surgery period, and think a lot of people go overboard with it, especially in this day and age of Hollywood plastic Barbies walking around everywhere. I think people should be happy with the way they were created, and I don't want my daughter to get the wrong impression if mommy were to go and get bigger boobs. So, if the opportunity does actually arise, money-wise, for me to get my boobs, I'll have to still think long and hard about it, for my daughter's sake. Do I want her thinking that, if she doesn't like something about herself, she can just pay to have it fixed, or to embrace herself for who she is and love herself that way? Tough call when you are in the position of not liking something about your own body.
|Disgusting, but funny....|
So, Inklingers, this is where you come in. Have any of you gone under the knife and would like to share? Do you regret it, or was it an amazing decision for yourself? Do any of you live in BE like me? And breastfeeding and boobs- definitely a conversation piece. This is Women's Talk Wednesday after all, so let's get this topic off of our chests... hahaha, a pun. I tickle myself sometimes.