Saggy Boobs, Anyone?

I knew the day would come when I would no longer be a breastfeeding mama. I just didn't think it would come so soon. And even though I daydreamed about it, longed for the days when my baby would no longer be attached to my breast nor need me for nourishment, I was not quite ready to give up that bond between me and my baby, not to mention the other perks that came with breastfeeding. When the day finally came, and so abruptly, It left me sad and nostalgic.

I loved the way my boobs looked when I was breastfeeding. Full and firm, perky even. Not huge, but nice. Even when my they were so engorged I felt as if the weight of them would crush me and I would pass out from the pain, I loved the look of my sudden bountiful chest. I had a nice bosom, breast that could be the envy of another woman. I was in love with the new me. But as soon as the bounty came, it left.

I was not prepared to look at my chest in the mirror and face reality. What stared back at me was what looked like two deflated balloons, almost as flat as pancakes, and saggy as a 90 year old woman's boobs. And oh so tiny! I was in despair. My boobs had failed me. They morphed into old man boobs. These were not the boobs I had just months before, they weren't even the boobs I had years before kids, my original boobs. And I had no hope of those breasts ever returning.

How was I so unfortunate in acquiring the boobs I had now. How was I left with such a catastrophe. Why was I not among the lucky few women whose boobs get bigger and STAY bigger after breastfeeding. Hubby's cousin went from a full C cup after she stopped breastfeeding her son at 10 weeks to a full D cup. Ok, so she also went up a couple of sizes too, but she had a bigger chest. Not deflated, shrunken ones. How come I could still retain my pregnancy gut, massive thighs AND wide ass, but not my boobs. The only part of me that barely fit in my 2 piece swimsuit was my chest... too flat even to fill out the A cup top.... feeling like a fat tub of lard as I walked the beach among women whose bodies were toned and thin and had ample chests to boot.

If I were a really vain person with money to spare and no qualms about altering my body, I would get my ass quickly to the nearest plastic surgeon and order him (or her) to insert plastic water balloon type balls into my chest (silicone or saline), as big as my frame would allow for me to look 'natural'. And while the doc was at it, might as well throw in some lipo too.

I guess praying won't help. Those are requests too trivial and better left unasked. There are more serious things going on in the world to pray for. Bigger boobs aren't on the list of those things.

So should I just be happy with what I have left then? A mere fraction of what I had before and even less still of what I had while pregnant and breastfeeding. I guess I will have to live with the fact that I will never fully fill out any top.

Not that I am sulking too much. Back in high school, my big chested friends use to envy me. Yes!!! I know, me. The flat chested, um, I mean small chested girl. They admired the fact that I could go bra-less and not have my boobies flapping around like a ball in a stoking. They wished they could wear the halter tops and backless shirts I bravely wore that had become trademark to my wardrobe.

They told me how much of a hassle big boobs could be... the difficulty in finding bras or tops to fit perfectly... not to mention back pain (not that I wanted boobs so big they would hurt). But even that didn't faze me; my dream was to one day have bigger boobs. I swore as I got older, they would eventually get bigger. I just had to wait. And so I did. Well, 3 kids later at the age of 28, I am still waiting. I guess I should give up hope. Not even pregnancy could answer my prayers. And breastfeeding didn't help... if anything, it actually made matter worse (not that I would trade bigger boobs for what my breast could accomplish by breastfeeding 3 kids). And I'll be damned if I let some doctor place plastic balls filled with foreign liquid in my chest. That is better left for the more adventurous. After all, my body is my temple and I would be too afraid to do to it what would be necessary for a breast implant.

So I will just look at the glass as half full or at my breasts as half full, not flat or half empty. After all, I can always go back to wearing, without fear, backless tops and halters again (just as soon as I get rid of this mommy gut though).