Yup. I did.
Breast Augmentation. The twins arrived Wednesday, November 7th.
275 ml of silicone goodness. Each. Way easier than a c-section. Recovery reminiscent of super engorgement and double mastitis, with a little bruising for good measure.
I've always been a pretty low maintenance kind of girl. Very little make-up. Extraordinarily lazy when it comes to grooming hence the dreadlocks. Skinny on top and bigger on the bottom my whole life. Overall slim. And totally flat chested. I only wear wore a bra when absolutely necessary, much to my kids' chagrin.
mom oh my god mom its so BAD you need to put on a BRA.
Well, when you start out with tiny boobies, then spend from age 34 to 41 either pregnant or breast feeding for all but about 6 months, you're gonna be left with sad deflated little fried eggs on your chest. The boobitas had done their job well. My baby-making years were wonderful and had been the only years my innate dysthymia receded without pharmacologic assistance.
It all started during the summer when a friend/friend of a friend decided to get liposuction. I think she's absolutely gorgeous but she was unhappy with this here and that there. I think she cares a lot more about how she looks than I do and I'm not saying that as a judgement it's just that I'm pretty much a freakin slob.
So friend is very happy with her lipo results and one night BAM!!!... it suddenly occurs to me...I could have boobs...
will wonders never cease
Being a small very small breasted woman, I'd always made assumptions about what it means for a woman to get her boobs done. I pretty much chalked it up to low self esteem, not being ok with yourself, superficial attempts to fill an emotional void, not feeling attractive enough
you know... all THAT stuff
So here I am, contemplating breast augmentation. On one hand it was such a bizarre about face for me but on the other hand the idea sat really well. Still, it was so out of character, I told myself I'd sleep on it. I expected to wake up the next morning saying to myself self you are SO SILLY... boob job... hahahaha...
Needless to say, the next day when I remembered BOOB JOB I still thought it was a GWATE idea.
And just like that it was decided. And once it was decided, I found that I was more honest with myself.
When I caught a glimpse of myself naked in the mirror, the decision allowed me to acknowledge that I didn't like the way my droopy boobs looked, and that they could be different and it was OK.
Talk about self acceptance.
I realized I hadn't been OK with not being OK with my body. How's that for a mindfuck?
The internet is an amazing thing. I did a ton of research which for me is a few hours because I usually just fly by the seat of my pants. I looked at hundreds of before and after picts, checked out implant sizes, saline vs. silicone, even youtube diaries of women documenting their own boob job experiences.
At the end of August I had a consult with a local plastic surgeon about whom I had heard good things. I knew he had done a couple of my moms (one young with one child, one older with 4) who at the time I thought were nuts to not be OK with their post baby boobs.
While examining me he asks questions
what size bra do you wear now?
ummm... hmmm... I don't really know... I buy little girl bras at target... they're cheap
what size bra did you wear before you had children?
ummm... I didn't really wear a bra....
what was your biggest cup size when you were breast feeding?
ummm... uhhh... I don't know... I wore a nursing bra for 7 years... I've gained 15 lbs in the past 3 years and none of it has gone to my boobs. I just want to look balanced.
hmmm... you probably really needed to gain that weight
Which is true. I was really skinny. And I feel much better with the extra weight. My butt cheeks and thighs are dimply but so what. My arms finally have some flesh on them and my back isn't all bony. I feel way more feminine. My face is softer and not drawn. I look kinda of normal instead of thin. And yoga keeps me strong and flexible so nothing jiggles too much.
Well, being the awesome plastic surgeon he is, he looks at me and says I'm thinking silicone. 275. He hands me the implants and I tuck them into the bra they put on me because of course I wasn't wearing one and voile!
I looked in the mirror and it was just perfect. Not too big at all, accentuated my nonexistent waist. Looked nice. And so I scheduled the surgery.
Friends were very supportive.
Sisters were...ummm... concerned.
Which makes sense as we were all raised by the same mother. A mother woman who NEVER indulged herself, thought she was homely, and always wanted a nose job. Meanwhile, she was stunning in her own way, and had the high cheekbones and prominent nose of her Shawnee grandmother. I think there was a big part of our mother that never felt good enough. But that had nothing to do with her nose.
So I got my new boobs and though still a tad uncomfortable, I am very happy with my new look. They're still a little firm and sore with occasional zinging pain. My nipples are now super round instead of loopy sleepy slanty eyed. I'm hoping those stupid hair follicles that have been sprouting 2 inch long hair are gone, but I guess it will be a few months before I know for sure.
I still feel like me. I don't feel like I have a new lease on life, or now will find the perfect guy. I don't feel like Cinderella. I had already filled many of my emotional empty spaces, and certainly the empty spaces left are not gonna be filled by the boobs filling my new full B cups.
I just like my new boobs.