Okay, I know I said I would share more baby related stories but, let's be honest here, you don't want to hear about my baby 24/7. Oh yes, you will hear LOTS more about him because I am totally already THAT type of mom. But I think we both would like something a little different for a change and, since I have very little else to talk about right now, the topic of the day is my boobs.
I have long labored under the delusion that pregnancy gives you big knockers. Frankly I feel that this is a lie that should be squished right here and now because, seriously, I was massively disappointed when I found that this was not the case (for me anyway). Oh sure, my A cups did spillith over a tad more than usual, but not so much that I really needed new brassieres. Or, and this is me spreading a little TMI just for the sake of demystifying any mistaken glamour you may have around this subject, my left boob didn't require a new bra, whereas my right breast would have faired well in a bigger size because (and this is something I was never warned about) my boobs grew at totally different speeds until they were totally lopsided.
Not fair!!! So terribly cruel! My ta tas had always been small but at least they were nicely proportioned. Pregnancy stole that from me and left me with one slightly bigger, not at all cosmetically attractive, hooter.
All my friends assured me that they would get bigger still. "Wait until the milk comes in!" they cried. So I held out hope. I prayed to the boobie fairy and waited for the sweet, sweet mother's milk to fill out my cans.
And lo - at last the day did come where my boobs grew to the size of actual melons. It happened ... It finally happened! My A cups were literally busting out of everything I tried to use to contain them. They really were enormous (btw, I can't even begin to fathom what happens to the boobs of women who have big breasts to begin with - it must be quite a sight to behold). I felt like a porn star with these things. Not just because they were comically large compared to my normal build, but because they looked ridiculous overall. Like two rock hard perfectly round cantaloupes shoved down my shirt. They looked fake ... Like a bad boob job. They weren't even remotely sexy or attractive like I'd always imagined. It was all a terrible lie!!
Worst of all is that, even if they had looked good, GAR wouldn't have been able to enjoy them - these new jugs were strictly for baby. Hands off buddy!
Now my milk has all dried up ... and my melons shrunk back down to the size of apples again. I mean, they disappeared almost immediately. What a jip! And the cruelest injustice of all is that they did not even shrink back down to looking just the same as before I got pregnant. No! They shrunk down all uneven. That's right - my pesky right boob is still bigger! It's now like I've got one Granny Smith and on one side and a teeny crabapple on the other. Thanks a lot boob fairy! I mean, thanks for nothing. And, dear reader, let this be a lesson for you because, really, this is the type of shit that no one ever warns you about.
I've always hated the term "boobies" anyway. There are so many reasons, but I think this video says it best.
Love your ta tas ladies!