So, if you follow me on twitter, I made a little confession the other day while on strong pain killers. I wasn't really
planning to put it on my blog... but percocet and I don't mix well and I already came out of the closet. So here it goes...
I got a breast augmentation. (Technically it was a lift, but I will get around to that)
Before you go and judge, hear me out.
I have never been well endowed, and I grew up
wanting boobs. Every woman in my family has a nice set of ladies. My mom always told me "Just be patient, they will come." Well, high school came and went, and they never made their appearance. In retaliation, I went as far as possible to stuffing my bra, without being "
The Girl That Stuffs Her Bra." Water bra, gel bra, push up bra, miracle bra, a "boob job bra" and I once even wore two bras at once. Yes, I
wanted boobs.
Since my boobs never really showed up on their own, I started to mention getting augmented a few years ago. My mom's response to this was that my boobs would come when I had kids, because "Her's did". Well boy did they!!! I jumped from a very small B to an enormous DD after Keating was born.
It was glorious.I breast fed Keating, and it was definitely the right decision for us. But, it took a huge toll on my body. 4.5 months into breast feeding, my milk supply started to dwindle, which created a VERY unhappy baby. If you read my blog then, I'm sure you remember those dreadful days. Looking back, I think it had to do with going back on the mini birth control pill. I wouldn't do that again, but hind sight is 20/20.
Anyways, when my milk went away, so did the girls. I was left with
deflated balloons. I had the rack of a 90 year old and it was
very sad. Call me shallow, but this new change affected my self esteem. It changed how comfortable I felt in my clothes. I didn't want to wear a bathing suit, I wouldn't wear a V neck shirt, and I DID NOT want Brad to see me with my shirt off. Something
had to be done.

I decided to schedule an appointment with a plastic surgeon, just to weigh out the options. I had never had surgery, and it seemed so drastic. I kept talking myself out of it. I went for my consult and discussed all of my concerns with the Dr.
"Would I have to wait until after we were done having kids?" "Would I be able to breast feed again?" "How long would it be until I could pick up and hold Keating post surgery?" He addressed all of my concerns and completely put me at ease.
Turns out that my balloons didn't only need to be re-inflated, they also needed to be
lifted. Everyone had acted like I was crazy for considering the procedure, but I wasn't imagining things or a little self conscious. I had affirmation that motherhood had truly taken its toll on my body.
Brad and I discussed everything after the consultation and I decided that I was going to do it. I scheduled my surgery and went back to the Dr for a Pre-op appointment to discuss details, and to choose the size I wanted. I by no means wanted to look like a fake big boobed Playmate, I wanted to look natural.
"Trying on" Implant sizes is a little deceiving. They have you put them into a sports bra, to give you an idea of how they will look after. Every size I tried on, I felt like Dolly Parton. They all seemed HUGE, but they explained to me that the implant wouldn't actually look that large because it would be held down by the muscle. That was a relief. I decided on a size range. My surgeon knew what I wanted the end result to be, so the actual size wasn't determined until surgery. That way he could compare two close sizes and see which looked better on me.
Last Tuesday we woke up at 4:30 am to get to the hospital for surgery. I was surprisingly not nervous at all, but I think Brad was. He kept asking
"aren't you nervous?" Thankfully I felt very confident in my decision and in my Dr. I knew I had made the right decision. Around 7am I kissed Brad goodbye and they wheeled me into the O.R. I had only seen operating rooms on Grey's Anatomy, so I was surprised at how bright and unoppressive it was. I remember laying on the table and they made sure I was comfortable and warm..................... then next thing I knew, I was waking up in recovery.
To be continued...