But, then I had the surgery...and I was in too much pain to care. And then I was too happy on pain pills to care. And then I decided I really didn't care. No one is staring at my chest or giving me weird looks or pointing and laughing (no more than before that is). I don't think the fact that I don't have breasts is all that noticeable honestly. Except that I'm waiting for someone to ask me if I'm pregnant (since the stomach to breast ratio is off) but...I don't think it really registers to anyone that I don't have breasts.
Obviously, the way I'm dressing makes a huge difference. I'm wearing baggy shirts and nothing fitted on the top so it's not obvious at all.
|The Foam Boobs|
He definitely noticed! After his initial excitement, he was quickly confused and he said, "Um...is that where they GO?!"
Because, you see, in our twelve and a half years of marriage, he has been witness as my real breasts went ever more south. By the day, those things were creeping ever downward. Gravity was not my friend. So, it makes sense that he may have forgotten where breasts actually belong on a woman's body. I told him to get used to it because the new ones will be in the "right" place and they will STAY there! He was part excited, part terrified.
I was so proud as I paraded around with my foam boobs. I was even undeterred when one popped out. I just shoved that puppy right back in there. So easy!
But then I looked in the mirror.
Wow. I was so confused. My brain just didn't really process this weird body that I was looking at. I just seemed so odd. I grabbed the foam boobs and pulled them out and shoved them back in the bag.
I was not expecting that. I thought I'd be thrilled to see myself with breasts again. But, I wasn't prepared for it, I guess. It just seemed so unreal - so unnatural - so wrong.
I'm not sure why I had such a strong reaction. I haven't spent a lot of time looking in the mirror at myself the last 5 weeks. Though, of course, it's always on my mind that I don't have breasts right now and, of course, I definitely notice every time I look down. But I didn't realize that my perception of myself had changed so drastically or so quickly. Am I just angry at my breasts for giving me cancer? Am I still mourning the loss of my breasts? Did wearing fake breasts make me feel like I was cheating on my old breasts? I just don't know. I can't sort it all out yet.
It's been a journey to accept myself as boobless and it's obvious that it'll be a journey, for not only my body, but also my brain to get used to having breasts again. Something that was so natural before will take some adjustments to, once again, accept as part of myself.
People Outside My Family Who've Seen My "Boobs": 31 (The assistant to the physical therapist - I'll pretty much strip off my top for anyone these days)
Boob Count: 123!