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Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Women's Talk Wednesday

I was sitting around thinking about future blog posts last night, and realized that yes, I'm a Mommy blog, yes, I'm a family blog, yes, I'm a tips on home/parenting/cooking/life blog, but, I'm also a Women's blog. When do I get to talk about the *fun* stuff? Just throw it in between posts about amazing pot roast and the hilarious thing my 6 year old said today? No, no. We moms are women first and foremost, and every now and then we need to be reminded of that, not just of being little Johnny's mom, not just Billy Bob's wife, not the crazy lady who comes outside in her robe and throws the newspapers back at the delivery boy in the morning because he can't quite seem to get them out of the bushes and onto the porch; We are Women, and we need that Women's Talk every now and then. So, grab your cup of coffee (or vodka, depending on the time of day), and sit back, because today is the first Women's Talk Wednesday, and we're talking about.....

Boobs



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.

I didn't always live in BE, though. Growing up, I developed early (like 5th grade early), and was ahead of the rest of the girls until about 9th grade. I had full Cs all through high school, which was perfect for my 5'5" 120 pound frame. I got married at 18, pregnant at 20, and gained somewhere around 60 pounds with my daughter. Double Ds baby, all the way. After I had her, I breastfed for about 9 months, keeping somewhere between double Ds and regular Ds. Even after breastfeeding was finished, I managed to maintain small C cups.

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.

It was around this point, though, that I decided to see a boob doctor. I was okay with the size of my boobs, I just wanted them to be a little more perky, and I thought a boob lift would be less expensive and have a faster healing time than a boob job. Yeah, I was wrong. A $50 consultation later, I was convinced to go 375 cc's in each boob, for a grand total of around $4800, which would have me coming away with full Cs or small D cups. So, I looked forward to tax return money, to saving up every penny extra I had, and planned to get my new boobs in June of this year, right before the motorcycle club hosted their bike wash at the bar next to the tattoo shop I worked at. I figured, what better way to boost my business as a female tattoo artist than to walk around in a bikini top in front of a bunch of bikers, new boobs introduced to the world. Hey, sex sells, right??

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 still want my boobs, though. I used to be so scared of going under the knife to get them, the pain and healing associated with it all. I've never had surgery in my life; why would I put myself under for the first time ever for an elective surgery? The thought terrified me. But, I wasn't happy with my body, so something was going to have to give one way or another, either my fear or my self body image. The whole boob job thing was for me, though, no one else. And it was never really about the size, either. I didn't want huge, fake looking boobs. I just wanted my boobs to look the way they did before kids, to fill by bras out a little more. And, here's a secret- if I had slightly bigger boobs, then I wouldn't have to worry so much about my pooch or my ass because they'd all be proportionate. So, I could gain a little weight without it showing so much on my frame- hello chocolate ice cream and apple pie!! Now you know the real motivator in all of this....

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....
When I have expressed my concern about my boobs to people, I get a lot of 'Your boobs look amazing, what are you worrying about?'. Yeah, those people are also seeing them through a shirt, probably encased in a $70 Victoria's Secret bra. Victoria's Secret can make man boobs look amazing (maybe they should start a man boob line of bras, call it the Bro...). The few that have seen my boobs sans bra are honest enough to tell me, 'Yeah, you're boobs are fine'. We all know what 'fine' means. It means, 'A boob job wouldn't hurt.'

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.

Its Hump Day!

8 comments:

  1. Oh Morgan, you do crack me up! :) I've actually thought about a reduction. I've been in a DD since junior year in high school. Yeah, they may look great to everyone else, but they're a really pain in the ass for me sometimes. Trying to find a top the fits properly or dress, forget about it! I usually have to go a size up, but then my ass is the size of Texas and deserves it's own zip code (no joke, I am Latina and definitely got the Latina bod plus a few extra pounds I'm unsuccessfully trying to shed). Also, these knockers have caused me some back pain too. When I talk to my hubby about this, he's addiment about me keeping my hooters the way they are and insists that with some exercise and weight loss the back pain will go away. I'm sure he's right in some aspects.

    As for being an example to your daughter, I think it all depends on the way you approach the surgery and how you explain to her your motive behind it. My mom and I have always had a very open relationship. I've always been the one closest to her and I think part of that was because she had me when she was 20 and the closeness in age helped us relate to each other better. When my mom did things that most people would think of as "unconventional" she would always explain her reasoning behind it to me and helped me understand that she wasn't doing things for what others thought but rather for herself. This helped me to know that my mom didn't really give a rats ass about what others thuoght of her, only what she thought of herself and how we viewed her. This was a valuable lesson for me especially through my teenage years. Being able to not care what others really though, although sometimes still being hurt by it, I was able to get through high school with the monster boobs that everyone swore were fake (yeah like I'd go under the knife at 17! I'm terrified of needles first and deathly scared of having any kind of surgery). I honestly think that if you do decide to get the surgery, telling your daughter your honest reason behind the decission will help her understand that just because you're getting a boob job doesn't mean she needs to get one. She should be happy with her body but if she's not and wants to make some alterations, as long as what she is doing is for her and not for someone else there isn't anything wrong with that.

    I really hope that made sense. I do tend to ramble when I'm going on an on about something! :)

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  2. I understand you completely!!! Great post!! Happy Hump Day!! Newest follower from The Adventures of Mommy B  :)

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  3. Hi, I'm visiting from the Hump Day blog hop!!
    I'm your newest follower & would love a follow back - thanks!
    ~Erika
    Musings From a Stay At Home Mom

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  4. I have always had a big chest, and envied women of B cup size. Big boobs get in the way. I catch myself resting them on tables (or on my big belly when I was pregnant), and Hubby always bumps them with his elbows...not to mention back pain and the need for a super supportive tent-like bra.

    I am a DD, and think a B sounds perfect!

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  5. I completely get boob envy, I used to have it so very bad. I used to have a small chest, just barely a b cup. But then I got preggers and chubby and they grew right along with me. Now I'm a D cup and finally happy with them.

    I think that I was granted the larger chest to offset the horribly ugly tummy that came with motherhood...yes, my wonderful son stretched me out something fierce and I never recovered from it. So the larger boobs I think are natures way of saying "I'm sorry for your saggy gross belly."

    New follower from Mommy Blogs.

    jen

    mamaschellsays.blogspot.com

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  6. You can have my double Q's, they're aggravating. Legit.

    -Z

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  7. Isn't it funny how rarely women are satisfied with what they have? We have straight hair so we want curly, we have fine hair so we want thick...I guess it's the same with boobs, only it's a lot cheaper and nomally less painful change your hair.

    I have boob envy too. Mine have never been perky, even as a teenager. For some reason, many of my friends are chesty and the typical agreement between us is that those of us who have wish they didn't have as much and those of us who have less wish we had more. But you get what you get, ya know?

    When I finish losing weight and keep it off for a couple years, my husband and I agreed we are going to look into surgery to remove the excess skin (of which there will be plenty) and possibly do something aout the boobs. He's a boob man, which I find hilariously ironic since mine are quite fond of gravity and lacking substance, if you know what I mean. LOL!

    I still say if they can take the fat from your ass or thighs and put it in your hands and face as filler that someone seriously needs to look into developing a way to move it to the boobal region. Or, you know, in my case, hang me upside down like a cow on a meat hook, cut me like a c-section and shove all the fat from my tummy up into my boobs. I'm even willing to hang upside down for a while as I'm healing if that will help relocate it all. No lift needed! Fill those suckers up. It's all natural, it's organic. And on the off chance I wouldn't have enough fat? Well then, I'm sure I could be persuaded to have a piece of pie or two.

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  8. Wow, thanks to everyone who has commented on this. For those who live in BE like me, they Gypsies say if you shake hands with a person with bigger boobs, and you both agree to transfer the boobage from the bigger person to the smaller person, it's a Gypsy Agreement that works. Unfortnuately, Z and I have tried this numerous times and no such luck so far. Thought I'd pass it on to you all. For those who want smaller boobs, find a small boobed person and make a Gypsy Agreement. Hell, couldn't hurt, right??

    Maybe I should start a Gypsy Agreement Boobage Linky. Connect small breasted women with big breasted women... Hmmmm.....

    =P

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