This week I couldn’t decide upon an IBOT subject and was tossing up between boobs and how feral my kids are.
And yes that sentence was meant to sound the way it did!
I chose the more light-hearted subject of boobs, because realistically haven’t we all heard enough about my angels for awhile?
So I decided it was time to talk about mine, or should I say the demise of them – BOO.
Before I get all of this off my chest (see I’m really getting into the swing of it now) I have to say I will only ever call them boobs.
I detest the word t*ts – in fact I won’t even spell it out, or repeat it out loud – much to the amusement of my lovely BFF who calls them that to my face whenever she gets the chance 🙂
I prefer the gentler term boobs, because it feminises them – in fact I’d like to think my sons would call them boobs instead of t*ts.
Anyway I’ve got off titpic, I mean topic.
Recently it’s just dawned on me that I will never again have the pert, full and hard knockers I used to.
(In saying that I am grateful to have them at all – I know of many strong and brave women who have made the decision to lose their boobs to save their lives – something I would do in a heartbeat if placed in that situation)
But from 2007 until 2012 I was either pregnant or breastfeeding, and as you can imagine my boobs have ballooned and shrunk considerably during this period!
I would not change it for the world, in fact, I totally adore breastfeeding. Boobs are such handy things to have to keep a child quiet, and I also love the fact that I was able to sustain my children’s lives with them, well for a few months anyhow.
But when you’ve had size J boobs (no it’s not a typo – a,b,c,d,e,f,g,h,i, J) and then you lose weight – your once-were awesome whoppers become junior whoppers.
Thankfully there are amazing bras these days that work miracles and just last weekend I wore one that caught the attention of my husband.
To be honest I’m not that upset about the fact my boobs are no longer able to stand their own ground.
We all get to that stage in our life when we need a little lift – and that’s where I’m at right now, especially as I’m trying to down size a little.
But shit doesn’t it suck that the first place we lose weight is from our boobs, especially when there’s a bit fat tummy screaming out to be downsized!!
Despite the fact my boobs could be hitched up a few inches I could never get fakies – no offense to those who have them – but the pain would be unbearable for me I reckon.
While I have had two drug-free child births, my labours didn’t last weeks, which I’m sure the pain of a boob job would.
Plus I consider myself a pretty natural, straight-shooting girl and a big set of perfectly shaped t*ts just wouldn’t sit well with me.
I consider myself very lucky to be married to a man who loves me for what I am and the fact I have carried, birthed and fed our three children – and have the boobs to show it.
It’s inevitable that one day I will probably look like this:
But who gives a shit, if I am lucky enough to live until my boobs hang this low then I’ve had a wonderful and awesome innings!!
Embrace your boobs, or lack of, they tell a story of who you are and what you’ve been through.
Linking with Jess @ Essentially Jess for IBOT!