Boobies!!!

Ahhh, boobies. Mine are riridiculous. Ri-goddamn-diculous. They have been for a while – this isn’t a new development. What brought the bitchfest blog post on, is the debilitating headache that I’ve had for two straight days. Headaches aren’t new for me either. I carry a lot of my tension in my shoulders. I don’t do it on purpose, just one of those things. Because my boobs are rather large and heavy, the weight from the bra strap puts pressure on my shoulders, thus releasing evil tension toxins into my body. The pain from my shoulders goes up my neck and into my head. Most of the time, it stops there, and I just have a tension headache all day. No big deal. I can deal with those. What really sucks is when the tension headache turns into a migraine. Like it did yesterday. Then it lingers for a couple days and the slightest thing will set it off again. i spent two days straight with the lights in my office turned off doing work. While it is rather peaceful, the nausea from the migraine kills the peacefulness from the dark quiet atmosphere.

So, what can I do? I know exactly what I can do & what I want to do. Breast reduction surgery. Woo hoo! And, with all of the constant issues I’ve had over the past several years, insurance would probably cover it (see History of my Boobies below). I do want, and am looking forward to having my breasts reduced, but there is one…well two actually…issues that are giving me pause. Both revolve around my desire to have more children. But, I’m getting ahead of myself. First, a history lesson…

History of my Boobies

I got my first bra when I was in 5th grade. Nothing terribly exciting. It was that awkward, if I don’t wear something it looks funny, but I don’t actually need any support right now, kind of situation. I think I was a B cup in 8th & 9th grade. At the beginning of my 10th grade year I was around a C cup, then I lost my summer pudginess & shrunk back down to a B. I stayed  B for most of high school, getting up to a C at some point. My first couple years of college I was a B, then I hit my early twenties. Something happens to a woman’s body in her early twenties. It’s called getting more of a womanly figure. My hips got a bit bigger and so did my boobs. I realized that I would never be a size 4 again – I don’t think the pelvis of my skeleton would fit into a size 4 anymore. Anyway – I digress… I got up to a C cup. What a wonderful size. I was a 34C for a while. They were full and wonderful. I could still wear strapless bras and spaghetti straps. Hooray.

Then, I gained some weight. I won’t bore you with those details, that’s for another bitchfest blog post, at another time. Some women complain that when their weight fluctuates, the last place they gain weight and the first place they lose it is their boobs. Not me. The first place that I gain weight & the last place that I lose it is in my boobs. When I was in college and I gained weight, I got up to a size 14 & I was a 36DD. After I graduated, I lost the weight, dropped down to a size 6, but my boobs only went down to a 34D (really I was probably a 32DD – but I dare you to try finding that size anywhere). Keep in mind, that this time period was prior to Victoria’s Secret carrying Ds & DDs with any regularity. It was very difficult for me to find bras that fit properly. Since I’ve always had a very slim & narrow bust-line, my bust size has always seemed disproportionately small compared to my cup size.

During law school, I gained some weight. I gained a lot of weight actually. But, on my way up, I spent some time as a 34DD. I thought that sucked then. Now it’s almost easy to find that size. Anyway. When I started my last year of law school – just prior to getting pregnant, I was a size 14 again and a 36DD. Then I got pregnant. Put on more weight – you can see where this is going – and got up to a 38DDD. Whatever. That was inevitable given my size and the fact that I was pregnant. I was expecting my breasts to get larger, but I was hopeful that after the baby & after breastfeeding, they’d shrink a bit. By this point I was already banking on the fact that I would get a reduction after I was done with kids, so I wasn’t super concerned.

Well, my boobs didn’t shrink at all after I was finished breastfeeding. Here I am, 2 years after giving birth, a size 14 again…and guess what size bra I wear? I am at least a 34DDD. Are you fucking kidding me. 34 inches around. 34. There are women who wear a size 8 that aren’t even a 34. But I am. (And I’m not guessing, I’ve actually been measured by a woman who really knows what she’s doing). And, I say at least a DDD because the last bra I was in was a European size – and DDD is the equivalent. But since I lost some weight, it appears that only the bust line and not the cup has shrunk. Even with my “sizeable” hips, I’m top heavy.

My boobs are comically large right now. Comically. Seriously, there is nothing sexy about them (except in the right shirt with the right amount of cleavage – but naked – ha!)

My Issues

I want the have my breasts reduced. I want to be a nice perky C again. That was a lovely size. There is no way that I’ll get there on my own. Even if I was able to drop enough weight to get down to a size 6 again (not gonna happen with these post baby hips – and 8 is doable, but not a 6) there is no way that my boobs will shrink that much on their own. I have terrible back pain – including back spasms & the tension headaches. All that stem from the two lumps of heavy, annoying tissues hanging from my chest. I’m not afraid of the surgery, nor do I think that I will mourn the loss of the size. I’ll welcome it, with open arms, and hopefully a nice spaghetti strap sun dress. My problem is that I want to have more kids.

I foresee two issues with getting pregnant after having breast reduction surgery. First, the inevitable weight gain & breast enlargement. I refuse to go through all the trouble and pain of reduction surgery, only to have them balloon back out once my hormones go all wacky. No. Not gonna do that. Second, all the research I’ve done shows that breastfeeding after breast reduction surgery is very difficult, if not impossible. This is due to the fact that the surgery itself involves removing the nipple which can damage the connection to the milk ducts…blah blah blah science blah biology…http://www.webmd.com/skin-beauty/breast-reduction. I refuse to give up the ability to breastfeed my child. As I told my husband earlier – any decision that leads me to voluntarily not be able to breastfeed will have to involve life or death. That’s how serious I am about this.

The Argument Discussion

As today was the second day in a row that I left work early due to a migraine which was due to a tension headache, which was probably spawned from my boobs, it lead to a discussion with my husband, where he asked my to consider getting the reduction earlier than I was planning. I understand his point. Really I do. He doesn’t want to see me in the pain that I am in because of my boobs. But there is something that he doesn’t understand, and will never be able to understand.

I breastfed my son for 7 months. I wanted to go for the full year, but at 7 months, he had top and bottom teeth and a propensity for biting. I stopped before he drew blood. I knew that once that started happening I would have to stop anyway and it was really painful when he would chomp down. It was easy enough to wean him off the breast and exclusively onto the bottle. That’s him though – he’s the best/easiest/most perfect child ever – but that story is for another gushfest blog post. I missed it though. It was this amazing bonding experience that is 100% impossible to explain to anyone who hasn’t experienced it. Not to mention all of the medical reasons that show it is the most healthy thing you can do for your baby. I have attitude towards women who refuse to breastfeed. Not towards women who can’t for whatever reason, but towards those who won’t because it is inconvenient. I think that’s selfish.

Granted, it is selfish of me to not want to miss out on the amazing bonding experience with any potential future children. But, the only person really suffering as a result of my selfishness is me, so whatever. I will not intentionally do anything that will result in my not being able to breastfeed again. If it means spending every waking moment for the next 730 days in pain, I will do it. And gladly. I am willing to make that sacrifice. I’m a mom – that’s what we do.

My husband doesn’t understand my willingness to endure the pain. I can’t explain it to him. I know that I am not alone and that there are other women out there that would make the same sacrifice. I will someday get a breast reduction. But it will be after I am done having kids and all surgical options for preventing pregnancy have been exhausted. Call me selfish, but that’s what I intend to do.