I was pregnant for over 100 weeks. I carried 4 babies. I breast fed for 14 months. I pumped for 5 months. I gained 150 lbs. I lost 150 lbs. I have stretch marks for miles and loose skin that could carry a kangaroo. I have bags under my eyes. I have worry wrinkles on my forehead. I am proud of it all. I wear a bikini at the beach and I leave the sarong on my lounge chair. I am lucky to say that my husband has always found my post-baby body just as sexy as my pre-baby body and has never asked me to fix anything.
So I got my boobs done.
I didn’t get my boobs done before I had kids; my body and my boobs were perfect before.
I didn’t get my boobs done to get a man or keep a man.
I didn’t get my boobs done to enlarge or engorge my boobs (lord knows that’s how I got to this point in the first place).
I didn’t get my boobs done to keep up with the Kardashians or the Jones’.
So why did I get my boobs done?
I did it because I earned it.
I earned the right to be able to feel good in my clothing.
I earned the right to feel sexy for ME (and my husband).
I earned the right to look in the mirror and see all the amazing transformations my body has taken over the past decade and feel good about it.
I don’t feel fake or ashamed (although I won’t go around advertising it either) because I look at it as reconstruction. My body was stretched and pulled and painfully changed and after the white flag was raised the result was a sagging, empty, shapeless set of breasts and no amount of salad eating and running would ever give me back the full breast tissue I was now lacking. (think tube sock with a lemon in the end) I have simply reconstructed the shape that I once had. I didn’t tuck away my baby pooch or my c-section scar or the flames of fire stretch marks from the last pregnancy. I didn’t have the fat sucked out of my ass and put in my lips or cheeks. I simply regained my volume and structure.
We rejoice and embrace that the option is given to women who’ve had single or double mastectomies to be able to have implants put in place of the part of them they have lost. Why should we as fellow mothers judge those who want to do the same? And when my daughters are old enough to understand or when they question me, I will sit them down and tell them exactly why I got my boobs done and after they have their own children, I will support their choice to do it too.