Hey there Girls,
It’s been a while since we’ve had a chat. I mean, not that we chat often. We used to, back in the teenage days. I used to beg you to stop growing so fast. Actually, now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure that was pre-teen. I remember strapping you down with shirts and extra crop tops to try and hide you from everyone. Why did you have to be so ‘out there’?
Then, as we got older, I started to realise how awesome you were. Started to appreciate the way you made me feel all womanly and loved how we filled out a bikini top.
But let’s be real. Back then I had no idea. I didn’t really understand. I thought my body wasn’t good enough, my legs were too big, I was even worried you were too big.
But oh you were glorious! You were all nice and perky and round. The perfect shape. I could buy pretty bra’s for you without even having to try them on. But I was still way too self conscious to not wear a bra. I think on some level I was still trying to cover you up. Maybe from all the years of my mum pulling my shirt up higher to hide you.
I want to let you know, I still think you’re amazing. But you’ve changed. Not in a way that makes me dislike you, you’re just different.
You’ve done amazing things, you spent almost 18 months making milk for my son, dealing with me attaching all kinds of implements to drain you like a dairy cow. Because we had no other choice, he wasn’t allowed to feed.
And then when he did, you rocked up like champions and did your job perfectly. Making it easy for him to transition and easy for me to feed him. For that, I am forever grateful.
You did this amazing thing for 18 months. You created nourishment for him, gave him so much. But after… you were different.
But my dear boobs, you don’t quite perk up quite as much as you used to.
You no longer fit into any bra off the shelf. In fact, I spent over 6 hours one day trying on over 50 different bras and you didn’t seem to fit into any of them.
You don’t sit the same when I lay in bed anymore, you kind of just slide off my chest and hide somewhere under my armpits. Like a little retreat from the world.
It made me realise how much I missed the way you were. How I should have appreciated you more when we could run on the treadmill at the gym and I didn’t have to worry about you slapping me in the face. How amazing you would have looked in all of those strapy, backless dresses I used to avoid wearing because I always felt the need to cover you up with a bra.
I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate you more. And I’m grateful for all that you have done for me.
And now we are going to go through it all again.
From the moment I found out I was pregnant you kicked into gear. It was like you knew I was pregnant before my belly and gave me a few weeks of huge boobs without the belly realising it was supposed to get bigger too. Thanks for that. Nice to know you still love me.
Now you keep getting bigger, I can tell you’re ramping up to do an amazing job at nourishing our little girl. You seem to take your responsibilities so seriously. I wonder if you’ll be as big on production this time as you were last time. You were a milk making machine!
And even though you try to choke me when I lay down now, I know you don’t mean any harm by it. You’re just doing what you do.
I wonder how you’ll be after we finish breastfeeding again. This will be our last time. No more children after this one.
I wonder if you’ll deflate and once again find yourself sliding off my chest and finding solace in my armpits when I lay down, I wonder if I will ever find a bra for you to fit in, and I wonder if anyone will truly understand the sacrifice you have made for me.
We go pretty well together you know. And I’m sorry it took me so long to appreciate you. You are still amazing, and even though you’ve changed, I love you more now than ever.
Thank you for being my boobs.