I was always small chested. I was a small A/B cup before I had my son. When I was younger, I played around with the possibility of getting bigger breasts. I was making good money and larger breasts fit with the grown and sexy image that I desired.
However, I was too scared. I lacked the willpower to go through with it. I was apprehensive about having a foreign substance in my body. I went back and forth about whether or not it was worth any adverse risk. After all, this was the only plastic surgery I had ever considered. I was committed to aging gracefully and in that commitment, I never wanted to alter my face. But increasing breast size naturally was something beyond my control.
Somewhere along my life journey. I fell in love with my breasts. They were small, yes, but they were perky. They were subtly alluring and worked with my style and my frame. I am 5’9’ and slim. I have been a solid size 4 for most of my adult life. Typically, I gravitated to form-fitting clothing with shirts and blouses that didn’t require a bra. When your breasts are small enough, going braless is never just the right amount of sensuality without being provocative.
While I was pregnant, my breasts grew a couple of sizes and I hoped they would stay that way. Fast forward after I had my son. I was so focused on the delivery of my son, that I never even considered any possibility of breastfeeding being a challenge. I mean it’s natural to breastfeed a baby, so why would it be difficult? I gave birth to my son early in the morning. Around 3 am. However, a lactation consultant was not able to see me until almost midnight. All-day I tried off and on to nurse my baby and it was excruciatingly painful. Seeing as I had nothing to compare it to, I just assumed this was the sacrifice I had to make to feed my baby. It wasn’t until the consultant arrived that I learned that my son was not latching on properly and was merely using my nipple as a pacifier. One nipple was in such pain it was split and could no longer be touched. I was apprehensive about breastfeeding while I was pregnant, but when I started doing it, I hated it. Even after my nipples healed from that day in the hospital, it was something I did because I knew it was what was best for my baby. Also, my husband constantly harassed me about how healthy breast milk was for…