I went from a B cup to C cup bra size during my pregnancy, and then shot up another size during the first year postpartum thanks to breastfeeding. Now my kids are 4 and 2 years old and I'm as flat as a pancake. What gives?
I wasn't born with large breasts. Because of that I went through a self-conscious phase as a teen. It was tough seeing all my friends become well-endowed, only to look down to see raisins poking out of my chest. That image stayed with me through my adult years.
Despite my unhappiness with the size of my boobs, getting breast implants was totally out of the question. I just couldn't risk the side effects, not to mention the cost. Nowadays having a boob job is practically the same as having a car. Like taking your vehicle to the mechanic, you have to meet with your plastic surgeon periodically for maintenance.
That said, becoming pregnant was probably the best thing that ever happened to my breasts. They practically grew overnight. By the time I entered my last trimester, I wore a C cup and eventually measured a D cup after giving birth. And when I became engorged ... fugetaboutit! Those raisins I had as a teen transformed into large mangos.
Suddenly, I had a completely different body. I loved my new assets, and so did my husband.
The idea of planting seeds of a negative body image terrifies me more than my barely there boobs.
Fast Forward two years postpartum and now my boobs have become deflated balloons. Medically speaking, I have nothing to worry about and it's absolutely normal. Milk flow can stretch your breast skin and tissue while you're nursing, which leaves some mothers with a droopy look to their breasts when the milk ducts shrink to their pre-pregnancy size. In addition to breastfeeding, there are other reasons for shrinkage, which include change in body mass index, number of pregnancies and a large pre-pregnancy breast size to name a few.
Look, I thoroughly enjoyed nursing my children. I'm proud that I was able to bond with them and provide excellent nutrition at the same time. But now that I no longer breastfeed, it's hard to look down to see my deflated breasts. It's tough not being able to fill out my tops and dresses.
Then I look at my reflection staring back at me and think long and hard. Sure, I can get implants in a snap. However, when I look at my daughter, I think to myself. What kind of message would I be sending her? What if she knew that Mommy is unhappy with the way she looks? What about my son? Will he grow up seeking only women with large breasts?
The idea of planting seeds of a negative body image terrifies me more than my barely there boobs. So, I choose loving who I am and accepting all of my imperfections.
For the record, my thoughts about my negative breasts are never discussed around my children and I'd like to keep it that way. I certainly wouldn't want my insecurities to rub off on them. Rather than being self-deprecating, I shower myself with compliments around them.
As far as their dad is concerned, he says he completely satisfied with the way I look and our children bear witness to his praises about me as well.
In the meantime, I'll continue to work with what I have. I've been able to come up with quick fixes like sporting padded bras and clothing that show off my frame. I know a lot has happened to my boobs within the last few years, but it's a part of motherhood and I've chosen to embrace it.