Wee One turned four years old in January. When she was born, I breast fed her for ten months before she finally lost interest. At the time, I was in a size 34A bra, but then my milk dried up. There was nothing left, of my boobs, that is. It looked as if they were never there to begin with (just look at this photo and you’ll see what I’m talking about).
Before that, though, I was pretty content with my breast size, never once had I considered breast augmentation. That changed about a month after I stopped breast feeding. So it has been three years now and I’m finally getting my breast augmentation, April 2nd. Less than three weeks from now, can you believe it?!
But let’s just stop for a moment. Before anyone tries to tell me what I’m doing is wrong or send me hate mail, let me tell you this story. When Wee One was about two years old, Mr. Yarn Bearer, Wee One, and I were in an empty flea market. We were the only people there, except for the three, male workers. On this day, I believe I was wearing a close fitting, strappy-type top, black, a pair of fitting jeans, and wearing make up (I always do). Now, I know I’m not gorgeous, but I know that my face doesn’t look so bad that one would question my gender. As I get closer to these two guys, I noticed that they are staring. When I get within ear shot, one says to other, “Is that a guy or a girl?” (still staring).
The other guy replies, “I think it’s a girl.” (still staring at me).
That was not the only incident I was ever aware of and I’m sure there were many that I was oblivious to. So if you still want to blast me for all of this, go ahead… But I’m still getting my boobies. So nah.
Check back soon for a celebratory bra burning, mid-April.