I have some pretty vivid memories of seventh grade. I remember dances in the middle school gym. I remember eating pizza and ice cream and french fries for lunch every day and being ravenous when I got home from school. I remember Rob Taylor skateboarding over to my house after school and doing tricks out front to try to impress me. And I remember getting breasts.
For most girls, I think getting breasts is sort of a gradual process. They go from being flat, to having little nubbins to having those nubbins flesh out and turn into breasts. Not me. I went on vacation to Florida over April Break. I had just turned 13 and I was flat as a washboard. I returned home ten days later as a C-cup. For the rest of my middle school years, I had to endure the tauntings that I stuffed my bra. Kids drew boxes of Kleenex in my yearbook. I felt like I was cursed with breasts, and would have preferred to stay flat. I've always admired those skinny ballet dancers and runner girls with long legs and flat stomachs and no boobs.
So, for nearly 20 years, I've had pretty substantial breasts. I mean, they haven't been huge or anything, but they've definitely been noticeable. My high school boyfriend's mom used to call them cantaloupes, if that gives you any idea. They were there, they were a little lopsided, and they were perky.
And then I had kids. And they were still there, but not so perky.
When Oprah went on her "90% of American women are in the wrong bra size" kick a while ago I went out and got measured. I was in the wrong size. The right size, I learned was a 34D. Over the last seven or eight months, those 34D bras have gotten big on me. Finally, they got to the point that I could stick my whole fist into the cup of the bra with room left over. So I got measured again, and I'm now a 32C. I know, it's not tiny, but it's, um, a lot smaller than it used to be. I'm still nursing too, so I'm anticipating even more shrinkage a few months down the road. I don't think people would look at me anymore and say, "Wow, she has nice boobs" or "Wow, she has cantaloupes." It would probably be more like, "Ho-hum, I've seen limes before."
The funny thing is, this is the look I've always aspired to. I had the long legs covered (thanks, Mom). Now I've got small boobs. But a flat stomach isn't going to happen. I think that everything that four kids have been responsible for removing from my chest has found its way right to my tummy.
10 comments:
totally giggling at the lime and cantaloupe analogies!
I finally weaned Morgan and my boobs are...um...a little confused. They can't seem to pick a size. And suddenly my right one has decided to be a cup size bigger than my left. Great - I have a cantaloupe and a lime. Loved the post Shelah.
i feel for you... i went from a sweet and perky 34D to a sad and miserable 32B... except I hate it.
Oh my goodness! You are making me laugh! I'm an A cup, so not a whole lot of sympathy coming from this end of the computer!!! I do remember after my milk came in with Thoams....I was HUGE (H-U-G-E! - Dolly Parton huge) and it hurt soooo bad. How sad - the couple weeks I had quite a substantial cup size, I couldn't even enjoy it!
LOL. Love your candidness about your chest.
When I finished nursing baby #3 I had lost a whole cup, I'm afraid I'm going to lose even more after Pedro's done with me. I don't mind small either, it's the sagginess that I really hate.
I have a friend that has the opposite problem. From 8th grade on she was a D cup. Now, she has three kids and is a HH cup. Her breasts like being as big as a watermelon apparently. Which is made worse because she is skinny everywhere else. She is saving for a breast reduction when she is done having kids. I don't blame her, I would want one too. She really would like to be a C cup. I think she would get the shock of her life if she went that small.
Oh, I hear you, woman. I went from 38C to 34B. Sigh. And the stomach. Double-sigh.
Went from a B to an A after child number 2. Am now at a full B again nursing child number 3. Scared of what will happen when I wean. They are like deflated balloons for awhile. I like the A cup. It took me awhile to get over the fact that they were gone, but it's so nice not to worry about them getting in the way. I can't actually go without a bra in public because of the sagginess of them, but at least I easily wear bras from the tween department. Much cheaper!
This makes me want to take up running, because every woman I know who begins to run gets smaller in the ol' cup size. I desperately need that as my last bra fitting went significantly up. Porn star up.
and now, dear shelah, you must eat those famous last words, because atop every page of your blog is full-color proof that the dream of a flat stomach, which you claim to have been an impossibility, is in fact manifest. complete with definition. it wasn't luck. it was just a wholelottawork. kudos! ♥
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