Perky No More

Let's talk about breasts, shall we?  Not in a sexual way, mind you, but in a "this is how I feed my kid" way.  That's right, it's that special time of year known as World Breastfeeding Week, which means it is time, once again, for me to talk about my boobs.
 
Breasts are a big deal.  Especially in Los Angeles, where quite a few men don't even know what a real boob feels like (seriously.  I actually had a guy say this to me once.)  I used to have an amazing rack: firm, perky, and, best of all, real.  I wore strapless dresses and cute tank tops that didn't require bras, and teensy-tiny string bikinis.  And then I had a baby who I breastfed for nine months.  Do you know what happens to your breasts when you've used them solely as an all-you-can-eat buffet for almost a year?  Nothing good, my friends.  My perfect, perky beautiful boobies were completely deflated.  Thankfully I'm not married to a man who needs directions to find my clitoris, but if he someday goes blind he can just follow my southward pointing nipples and we'll be good to go.  Shortly before my son's first birthday I found myself standing in front of my closet crying over all of the clothes that I could no longer wear without looking like I belonged in one of those "shoppers of Walmart" memes.   

When I (accidentally) got pregnant with the Little Miss, I was excited for my short term reprieve from the saggy boob club.  I couldn't wait to get my gorgeous pregnancy boobs back!  Sure, a tube top on a pregnant lady may not be the most acceptable fashion statement, but dammit if I wasn't determined to enjoy my last hurrah with non-lactating firm breasts.  So I waited and waited and expected my porn star boobs to make an encore performance... but they never did.  When I asked my OB about it he told me that breastfeeding for that length of time causes major tissue damage and that even my raging pregnancy hormones couldn't counteract the sagging boob brigade, but that I should be happy I provided my son with the health benefits of breast milk for such an extended length of time.  Thanks, buddy, I'll be sure and remind myself of that the next time I'm trying to find a shirt that makes pancake boobs look sexy.

Sure, I mourn for the boobs of yore, but the truth is that I'm grateful that I've been able to nurse both of my children.  The quiet moments during the day when it's just me and my nursing daughter force me to slow down and simply "be".  I miss the morning feedings I used to have with Noah because it was our special time to cuddle.  He's too busy running and jumping and being a growing little boy now to want to cuddle with me for very long, and in the blink of an eye Rose will be the same way.  I may not have those gorgeous breasts of my youth any longer, but I have two beautiful kids who I love even more than I loved wearing strapless dresses.  I guess it's kind of inappropriate to wear tube tops after the age of 35 anyway.