Shortly after having my daughter, my sister in law at the time suggested to me one random day that I could ‘always have a breast lift’. Since we hadn’t been discussing the topic before her comment – I looked down and suddenly realized how disfigured I had become after a pregnancy with terrible bras followed by a year of breastfeeding. I was always self conscious about my boobage because one is slightly larger than the other. My ex boyfriend loved to joke about it. I was told this is common, but I have yet to notice it on another woman as I notice it on myself.
I am a tremendous wimp, however, so I never really considered surgery a real possibility. I have a very low pain threshold and am so terrified of dying – ‘why risk it for cosmetic purposes’ I always thought.
But in the past couple years I have really grown to hate my torso and my breasts happen to be big part of that torso. I have fanaticized many times about how great it would be to have a reduction and a lift. Even my own mom is all for it.
I spoke with an acquaintance who told me that she had the very same procedure only one year ago. She said the pain was quite minimal and that she loves her new girlies. She was obviously very happy to have had made the decision to go through with the surgery. She was a DD and after much tooth pulling with the insurance company, it was paid in full. Of course, she claimed back pain…which I am sure was indeed legitimate. I am only a D and I too have a lot of back pain. But I could not say without a doubt that my chest is the culprit. Apparently the doctor’s office will pit bull the insurance company until they accept the claim.
Anyway, after talking to her and my mom, I was seriously thinking that after next years’ tax returns (if my insurance wouldn’t pay) I would look into getting the reduction. Nothing major, maybe back to a C cup and lifted above my knees – where they had been before I was mommy milk bags. I was actually getting kind of excited about it. The thought of being able to wear tube tops or spaghetti straps…the thought of not having to get XL tops just so my boobs fit…wow…that would be friggin’ swell.
The following day I heard this story on the news. An 18 year old woman died while having breast augmentation. It seems there was a complication with a genetic disorder and the anesthesia. This certainly isn’t the first time I have heard of people dying from cosmetic surgery. But to hear this the very next day after deciding to possibly do this…well…it really freaked me out. Like maybe it was a sign or something.
I really want my body back. I really hate the way I look now. I really do not want worn out saddle bags hanging out down there. But I also want to live to watch my kids grow up. I want to have many more years of sunshine, chocolate, thunder and love. I am just not ready to go yet.
So, I guess I am back to where I was before…is the risk worth it?