Two weeks ago, we took Auggie to a pediatric dentist for what we were told was “staining on his teeth.” There is indeed staining on his front four teeth, but there’s also some decay. Therefore, the dentist encouraged me to wean him even faster than I had been or expect extensive surgery in the next year.
My heart shattered a little, but Auggie’s health is more important than allowing him to wean himself, which honestly may have never happened. We’re still in the process of weaning, and I’m sure I’ll have some sappy post when it does officially happen, but for now, let’s focus on the physical effects of weaning.
PSA: Dad – Stop reading now. Matter of fact, if you are a male, especially if you are a male who happens to have a pregnant, soon-to-be pregnant, or breastfeeding wife, I urge you to stop reading. What lies ahead will indeed sadden you… or gross you out if you’re my Dad.
So, after the dental appointment, I had the courage to actually look at what 9 months of pregnancy (Auggie was born early.) and 20 months of breastfeeding has done to my boobs.
My honest-to-God thoughts were “I have a disease.”
Which lead me to look even closer to see if that was in fact true. *Cue the anxiety.*
I found a small “dent” on my left breast, Auggie’s favored breast since he was just a few months old. It’s also the breast that had always been bigger, even before pregnancy.
Now, it’s saggier and has a dent that has me Googling breast cancer and what typical post-nursing breast look like.
All I knew is that 29 months ago, I had well-shaped, perky, full, and firm breast that I probably took a little too much pride in. Now, I have two pancakes.
Apparently, this isn’t uncommon. In fact, it’s more common than it is uncommon.
On a mom’s group I’m in, there was a woman who commented that her breast look like russet potato sacks with one small potato at the bottom, to which I laughed about for a good few days every time I thought of it.
Another woman posted a gif of a deflating balloon. This one was too relate-able to laugh.
I had successfully ignored my breast, and the anxiety that came with them, for the past two weeks with the exception of nightly “breast lifting” exercises that I found on YouTube. That is until last night.
Last night, I caught a glimpse while hopping in the shower, and it sparked the anxiety.
I decided to put a stop to it quickly and call the OBGYN this morning. When I called, they immediately told me that a nurse would be calling me back.
When the nurse called back, she mustn’t have had any children because when I told her how I was slowly weaning my 20 month old son, found a dent in my breast, and had been feeling tingling sensations, she said she had never heard of such a thing and thought it was important that I be seen today.
My stomach was in knots all morning in anticipation for my 1:20 pm appointment with the nurse practitioner.
I was also curious to know how I would take Auggie with me to an appointment where I was certainly not going to be able to hold him the entire time. I decided we’d take the stroller, and he could sit in there for the duration of the appointment. This was quite genius.
Auggie and I arrived at the OBGYN’s office only 2 minutes late. (That alone should tell you how anxious I was for the appointment. Even without a child, I am typically a good 10 minutes late for all of the OBGYN appointments I can remember.)
We had to wait a good 40 minutes before the nurse practitioner arrived, which was irritating but doable.
When she did make it to the room we were seated in, she asked about what had brought me in, as if she didn’t already know. She then asked to take a look, in which she immediately saw the dent. She felt around and decided she felt nothing alarming, which led us to the following conversation:
Me: “So it’s just because I have saggy boobs now? They’re like pancakes.”
Her: “Well.. I think it’s kinda just the way it’s laying there.”
Me: *Laughing hysterically that she flat out just agreed to my saggy boobs.* “Is there anything I can do to get my boobs back?”
Her: *Shrugs.*
Me: “Just a breast lift?”
Her: “Yes, but I don’t think it’s worth the risk. I’ve found a good push up bra temporarily does the same thing.”
There you have it ladies. Appreciate those perky things while you have them. In fact, I’m not even sure I will continue to judge those who inappropriately display them. Had I known what I was going to lose, I might have too.
I lost my breasts. They’re simply not coming back, (The nurse practitioner agreed.) but I’ve gained something better.
I have a beautiful, healthy, securely-attached son. A son that I have nourished and provided for for 29 months. And I’m more proud of that than I ever was my boobs.