An Apology Letter To My Post Baby Boobs

A Apology Letter to My Post Baby Boobs www.lovehardblog.com

photo: caitlin custer

Written at 3am in full delirium.

Dear boobs,

admin-ajax (2)I’m sorry.

I’m sorry, but this just isn’t about you anymore.

You were having a good run, and I realize you were blindsided.

There you were, going about your booby days in all your booby glory, minding your own booby business.

Maybe not as perky as you were 10 years ago, but still hangin in there, doin your thing.

Ironically, for months before the barracuda arrived…you expanded!  You became the epitome of fullness and the aforementioned perk returned tenfold!!

admin-ajax (2)You were happy.

Your owner spent her days at home parading you around, unsheathed!! For she alone knew your downfall was imminent, and she wanted to give you one last hurrah.

But you…

admin-ajax (2)You had no idea what was about to happen.

You didn’t know about the 8 lb barracuda that would soon claim you as his own.

You had no warning of the toothless piranha that would attach himself to you with so much gusto that, despite the lack of teeth, it cuts off all your circulation and makes you turn white after every feed.  (Even your owner didn’t expect that-but she just throws it on the pile of what-the-fuck that is postpartum everything)

You were decorated in pretty little lace homes, or pushed up to see the sky in uber-supportive neon-colored Brazilian sporty homes, or comfy in loose cotton homes with zero support

…Never to be seen again.

Your nipples were small and delicate…never imagining the alien spaceship that would take their place.  That dark, orb-like flying saucer that attached itself to your front side.

And what’s that?  A hair?  Maybe a skin tag?

Oh no!  A red spot!

Fear not, old friend…that’s merely a burst capillary…no doubt, a gift from the extreme weight of liquid that has arrived.

You are now so heavy your owner has to shove a burp cloth in between you when sleeping on her side, to relieve your side-boob of the weight.

admin-ajax (2)I wish I could tell you that the road ahead is upwards, but alas, it is the opposite.

From here on, every day is your best.  Tomorrow will be slightly worse… slightly….lower.

Yet fear not!  You shall not venture into darkness alone.

No, no.  I bequeath you…a friend… “Lower abdomen”.

He has seen horrors you know not of.

Be grateful for that.

And for his friendship.  You will journey together, side by side, until one day, you’ll be close enough to touch!  And your “battle scars” as my husband so lovingly and infuriatingly calls them (I’m pretty sure he read that in a “how to talk to your hormonal, postpartum wife” article)… will soon meet! And become one…forming an exact blueprint of the London Underground … The fateful city where your owner and her unsuspecting husband first spoke of attempting to create the very same barracuda who has taken your youth and beauty.

But what’s this??

Another friend to join the party?

Ah yes! “Upper thighs/lower buttock!”

They are not to be outdone!  They will see your squishy-ness and raise it some cellulite!

So you see, kind friends…you are not alone.

admin-ajax (2)You are weathering the storm with…if not grace, then resignation.

And I salute you.

For you are doing the most important work.

Sustaining the life force of the barracuda.

A temperamental, flaily, unpredictable leader for sure…but also a sweet, adorable, cuddly one.

You fight the barracuda valiantly, perfecting your aim, squirting him in the eye or up the nose when he tries to pull away too soon…but the victories are small and fleeting.

It is inevitable.

He is going to win.

admin-ajax (2)He needs you.

And he loves you more than anything right now.

And later, if you are attached to the beings of his preferred sexual orientation,  he will love you even more.

Well.

Not you, per se.  Because that would be creepy.

This is not a Greek myth.

Get your mind out of the gutter, boobs.  Jeeze.

admin-ajax (2)For now…cherish each moment.

God speed.

And God…lactate?

No….
Wow.  This got real weird.

Captureadmin-ajax
(Don’t lactate hard cause that’s called a clogged duct and it SUCKS.)

Any body parts you’d like to apologize to?

 

4 Comments

  • Lynn
    Reply

    I honestly would like to apologize to my brain, or maybe for my brain to apologize to my entire body for being unkind to it. For a few years I was very overweight due to a medical condition and I felt like an alien in that body. Before that I was….hot! With boobs that looked huge on my petite frame with a booty to match! I had just buttoned up my ‘goal jeans’ for the first time in 3-4yrs when I found out I was pregnant. My perky baby belly seemed to drop to below my belly button to mid thigh. My boobs my goodness the veins! Looked like a road map. My babe is weaned now and trust me the nipples look a lot more familiar now! Still my boobs refuse to conform to any size bra! So they’re often in a cheap walmart sports bra those cute cami lacy numbers some could wear as a top! But a lot of the time they are just free! Between my prancing around before and the breastfeeding I feel topless is my nature state. Husband still loves them and for as huge as they are it could be a lot worse 🙂 I still have a long way to go on the weight loss to my awkward middle but I’ve been there done that! Keep writing.

    • katiesavoy
      Reply

      Thank you so much for your honesty, Lynn! It’s crazy what this process does to our bodies…so incredibly worth it, but so intense. And yay for awesome husbands who love you for all the right reasons 🙂

  • Anonymous
    Reply

    Dear Butthole,
    I’d like to tell you how sorry I am. Had I known you would have had a permanent strawberry growing out of you, I would have been more kind to you all the years prior. Mr Hem and Mr Roid are no doubt a pain in my a$$. Pushing a giant baby clone of me out of you has taken a toll on your appearance. I will always remember to gently wipe from here on out.
    All my love,
    You know who

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