The pregnant body…. Amazingly clever and wonderful and giving of life and all that. Growing to provide strength and life to my little one. I get it.
But seriously, no one said I had to love it.
I made the mistake today of going bra shopping. I had done the same thing only 3 weeks ago. Upgrading my lovely 10c’s to a new set of 12d’s that were nowhere near as pretty but did a fair job of holding my much fuller, porn star looking boobs into place. Clearly I underestimated my potential.
Today, after a few days of growing discomfort in my brand new 12d’s I decided to hit the shops and see about getting a different set of bras. And hey, we have so much money to throw around, what’s another $150 spent on underwear (NOT!).
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to 14d territory. Welcome to my utter dismay at the sheer size of my once “handful is just enough” boobs. I have never been a 14 anything. Ever. It’s not a number I’m either familiar with or comfortable with. Not that I have issue with size 14 women. I say that as long as you are healthy, be whatever size you like, and I love the fact women come in all different shapes and sizes. Its just that for me, this was the first time that I really, truly feel like I have lost control of my body.
I’ve always tried to look after myself. Eaten well and gone through sporadic bouts of loving exercise followed by periods of doing none at all. Throughout it all though, I have been in total control of my weight and how my body looks.
Not anymore folks! These 14d’s have landed on my chest like a sack of potatoes and nothing I can do is going to stop them. I’ve only put on about 3.5kgs since getting up the duff so I can’t place the blame on huge weight gain or blowing out on bad food. This is purely my body doing its thing. My body deciding that a career in a titty mag might be an option to consider, should my current job go tits up (mind the pun).
Many women love the added boobage that comes along with being pregnant. To be honest, I
thought I would too. But alas, I am not. I am struggling to embrace my newfound lady lumps. I’m actually struggling to embrace anything – too much boob in the way. They are heavy and they sore, and no doubt, going to get even bigger.
So the control freak in me has had to learn a hard lesson today. My boobs are no longer my own, and neither is the rest of my body.
Both my changing body and how it’s made me feel is no doubt a sign of what is to come. I need to learn to accept the changes that lie ahead, for both my body and my mind. I need to learn to accept my 14d’s. I need to accept that they might turn into 14dd’s (god no).
I need to accept that my body is no longer mine. I’ll get it back one day but for now, over to you my ever-growing lady lumps. Do your thing and I’ll do my best to not totally freak out.