Another true confession

A few days ago Miss Nemesis wrote an excellent post about the women in her ward who were obsessed with not being pretty enough. While that was a worthwhile topic, what really caught my eye were the comments by a few mothers who pointed out that those women should be grateful for what they have, because after they have children "their boobs will never be the same". I have a confession that I hope will not incur the wrath of mommies everywhere:

I don't know what they are talking about.

My boobs are the one thing in my life that never changes. When I was in sixth grade they started developing like everyone else's. I waited excitedly for the day when puberty would hit and they would blossom and grow and look all womanly. It's been seventeen years and I'm still waiting. At some point I stopped buying AA bras and started buying A, but that's mainly because AA is hard to find with my band size. I get the padded or shaped ones, but there's a fairly large gap between the bra and my body. If you bump into me, my bra will cave in on itself because it's hollow.

I guess I should be grateful that I have one constant in my life. If I gain weight, if I lose weight, if I get pregnant, they just sit there. I wear B nursing bras, but that's mainly because they don't make nursing bras with A cups. I guess for the first few weeks things are a little bigger, but it goes away quickly. After all the trouble I had feeding Little Dude I began to wonder if I have something called "hypoplastic breasts", which means there isn't enough tissue to produce milk. S-Boogie nursed for a year, but she also gained weight slowly and barely cleared 17 pounds at her one-year check-up.

And so I sit and hear other women lament the shape of their breasts, or the fact that their breasts jiggle when they run, or the fact that they can't find shirts that fit. While I may nod knowingly, I secretly hope that they won't notice that I have no idea what they are talking about. Please don't hate me because I'm flat-chested.

Comments

JB said…
There are some pretty obvious benefits to being flat-chested. Not having to find support for them, for example. And some guys seem to prefer it, anyway!
Kristeee said…
hehe :) My mom is the same way. And you never have to worry about back pain or slopping on yourself because you have a "shelf". Definite benefits. I recently lost almost 30 pounds and mine shrunk quite a bit, but pregnancy has brought them back to life . . . which means my shirts are fitting differently again. Silly things, anyway!
My sister and I are both pushing D's. She just over and me just under. (That is when we are not in the mommy way) And we are NOT tall girls. My mother, on the other hand, is an A. My sister and I both wish we looked as cute in our little fitted T's.

I noticed your book list includes Tess. I read that a couple of years ago after a L O N G hiatus from T. Hardy. I loved it. Such a sardonic look at Victorian attitudes toward women. A society whose fashion favored big busted women, but forbade their men to look twice. :)
Jenny said…
I don't hate you cause you're flat chested! Slightly envious, but no more. It's so lame that so many things can go wrong with nursing.
Mrs. Hass-Bark said…
I don't hate you, but I am jealous. I can't imagine being able to wear button-down shirts without them gaping in front.
Samantha said…
Okay, I admit to some envy. I'm not huge (B), but still have to wear those silly support bras when I run. And since my chest was non-functional when it came to feeding babies, I really see no purpose for it whatsoever. I think you and I should split the difference, then I can run a little more comfortably, and you'll experience fewer cave-ins.
Lady Steed said…
that's a very brave confession to make Foxy. It must be nice to have them remain constant. Mine seem like they change constantly. I've always had a love/hate relationship with my breasts. What I love about them right now is that they are serving a purpose. Most of the time I'm slighlty annoyed by their presence.

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