January 27, 2009
I was trying on sports bras last night. I needed a new one to wear after the surgery tomorrow. The one I had was not going to work (or latch in the back). As I was running from the bra aisle in the Wal-Mart to the dressing I thought of the life of my breasts....
I started "budding" as I heard it put so delicately, when I was in 5th grade. I grew in uneven. The left one grew first, I knew it had to be because I was a side/tummy sleeper and faced my left so I knew that it must because I was squishing my right breast under my body weight, so I trained myself to sleep on my right side/tummy until my right one grew in. Finally it did (I later found out that this is normal and I didn't HAVE to change my sleeping... Who knew?)
I have had a love/hate relationship with my breasts. I hated them when I first got them. I swear I was the only girl in a bra. It was aWHITE bra too, no buff, or nude bras for me back then. I had a shirt I got as a hand me down and it was a beautiful pretty peach, it was ruffly and a soft, and I didn't realize it was so sheer until I took my jacket off in my 5th grade class and everyone laughed at me (at least all the boys did). When I was in 7th grade I forgot to wear my bra one day at Catholic school, (it was gym day, so I had a thick white t-shirt under my white peter-pan collar button up blouse, so you really couldn't see anything). But I freaked, I told my best friend, excused myself from class, called my mom to bring me my bra. She did (in a brown lunch bag, thank god) and when I returned to class to find that "Bra less Bitch" was written on my desk. My "Best Friend", her friends and I all ended up going to Sister Mary Denise's office for that one.
As I got older I started to like them more. I never liked wearing a bra, that is a device you just get used to. When women find a bra that is "so comfortable" it isn't comfort they are feeling, it is just not-as-bad as the last one you had. But as they grew, I found I could use my breast to my advantage. These "ladies" as I liked to call them, seem to get really looks from boys, then guys, then men. My sister was jealous that my "ladies" were always a little perkier than hers (that is until babies and breastfeeding). I was a dancer (ballet, tap, pointe, hip-hop and jazz, so keep your mind out of the gutter) and where it was sometimes hard to get a costume to fit properly (there were numerous costumes I had to sew a bra in them, so my ladies wouldn't POP out during a performance) in the end, I always felt like they enhanced my looks. In the bars and clubs, I could turn quite a few heads and had quite a few drinks bought for me, I am sure that my "ladies" helped me.
After I got married and got pregnant, the real love fest for them started. After the birth of my first child, they did something that to this day I think is amazing... They fed her! Okay, it was hard and hurt like hell EVERY TIME she latched, but I was able to feed my child. Nobody else could do this for my baby, just me. I breast fed my first daughter until she was 11 months old and my second until she was 6 months (her decision, not mine). Sure they were a little less perky, sure gravity and engorgement set in and they hung a little lower, but these were mine. These ta-tas were beautiful, flawless... until December 5, when I found the lump.
Over the past month and a half they have been squished, poked, pricked, punctured, bandaged.. You name it. Tomorrow they will be cut into, the left breast, which was the favorite breast of both my daughters when they were babies, will be cut into, and a part removed. I want to remember them as they are now. To remember them before they were flawed. When they were all mine. Before Alien and Bob decided to lay claim and turn my whole world upside down. I want to remember my ladies, in all their glory.
Isn't it funny when you are growing up and your breast start to grow and you are excited over every new cup size you get into? Once you are an adult, you cringe every time you have to try on a larger bra and you are excited when you loose an inch or a cup. Then one day you find a lump and you pray that after it is all done, you will still fill the "comfortable" bra that you own.
So this is for you, my left breast, cause after tomorrow you will never be the same. But you know what, I will love you regardless.