If there’s one thing motherhood promises, it’s a lifetime supply food-smeared t-shirts and an ever-evolving body that keeps you guessing. And if there’s one part of me that has lived many, many lives… it’s my boobs.
Let’s take a moment for them, shall we? Because I currently sit here writing this with what I call my ‘8th version of my boobies’.
- First version: pre kids
- Second version: pregnant with Bobby
- Third version: 1 baby postpartum/post-breastfeeding
- Fourth version: pregnant with Florence
- Fifth version: 2 babies postpartum/post-breastfeeding
- Sixth version: post breast reduction
- Seventh version: pregnant with Esmé
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Eighth version: 3 babies postpartum/post-breastfeeding
My boobs have been on a ridddddde… but gosh I love them.
If you’re new here, you might not know that I grew up with naturally very big boobs. I was rocking a 12GG bra at 16 years of age, in a time where the only place my Mum could take me shopping for something that fit resembled the same shops my 80 year old grandma was visiting. Summer time especially, became my biggest trauma because like the bras that looked more like beige scaffolding, swimwear that was age appropriate but that also fitted, was scarce.
Clothing options were extremely limited as a young girl, as well as trying to grow up with a confidence to love my body in a world where boobs have been so sexualised so early on. I played a lot of sport growing up too and still live with the permanent shoulder indents of wearing three bras to support my chest during a netball game. They were heavy, painful, inconvenient, attention-grabbing in ways I never asked for, and they never felt like mine.
After my first two children, I made the decision that changed my life in more positive ways than I could have ever imagined. A breast reduction at the age of 28. My mum had taken me as an 18 year old for a consultation for the same surgery and I was instantly approved as the perfect candidate, however after much consideration, I decided to perhaps wait until I had had children because I knew the changes they would go through during that time. Despite not feeling ‘done’ after my second born Florence, I was 28 and felt like my boobs replaced more of an elderly lady and I no longer wanted to feel such shame and hatred towards my body while I was still so young. I knew having the surgery would give me the confidence that I deserved to have.
I can’t overstate it. It was transformative.
- Confidence: BOOSTED.
- Posture: fixed (sort of).
- Fashion freedom: unlocked.
- Exercise enjoyment: activated.
- Mental load: lighter than the boobs themselves.
- I could breathe easier: literally and figuratively.
- I felt like my body finally belonged to me.
Deciding to embark on another pregnancy journey 6 years later was also a decision I didn’t make lightly. I yearned for more children so I always knew this day would come and I also knew that despite paying for the expensive surgery on my own all those years ago, that I was playing with a bit of fire. Would I ruin everything? I had lived with such freedom and confidence so this many years - would I despise them again after experiencing another pregnancy? I had fears that they would suddenly grow back… like my body would jolt back to its factory settings and plonk GG’s on my chest all over again. Fun fact: my originally pre-pregnancy GG’s hit an I-cup when pregnant with both Bobby & Florence. Yes you read that correctly… A-B-C-D-E-F-G-H-I…
It’s no secret that breasts change for a lot of women during pregnancy… and change for me is an understatement. Some women go from an A-cup to a full, voluptuous C or D and absolutely love it… finally filling out tops, feeling feminine, curvy, sexy in ways they’d never experienced. Others feel shocked… like, whose chest is this and what on earth happened to my nipples?
Boobs can get fuller, heavier, veiny, and tender whilst nipples can darken and areolas turn into dinner plates. Skin stretches, or in some cases, tries to and elasticity becomes a lottery. Some may get stretch marks, some don’t, some might even produce an extra nipple hair or 15.
And then the fun game of postpartum breast roulette begins. From my experiences, I could be engorged and rock-hard one moment, whilst soft and sad the next. Lopsided is always fun when ‘favourite boob syndrome’ kicks in and nipples that feel like they’ve been munched on by a piranha.
Breastfeeding can be beautiful, it can also be brutal and it can also be impossible. Everyone is different.
So heading into third time around, I knew my beautiful post-reduction boobs wouldn’t survive untouched, but I completely welcomed it. I’d already made peace with the journey and what changes to expect and I knew that I'd earned this next chapter. I also couldn’t be more appreciative that my body was able to do it again - something I will never, ever take for granted.
Only last month, after feeling my boobs had finally started to ‘settle’ after 9 months, I marched into BRAVA Lingerie and got professionally fitted as a 14E cup. Now writing this, the bras are already too big. Not deflated, just deflating, as I would call it.
The skin has stretched again. The firmness has eased. Gravity has clocked in for another shift. There’s softness where firmness once lived and there’s absolutely more of a “settled” look that only mums and decades of life can give you. Sometimes it stings, sure, sometimes I do miss the fullness.
Sometimes I do find myself looking in the mirror and go ‘gosh, you really are a mum hey.’
But then I remember what they’ve done. They’ve fed babies and comforted their tiny bodies. They’ve grown, stretched, adjusted and rebuilt. They’ve been underestimated and overworked. And they’ve certainly lived every season with me. Gravity is rude, and elasticity can be unreliable. But confidence is the constant we get to choose. And I will now choose to love them, in every shape, size and the chapters still to come. Because their journey hasn’t finished just yet
