I always knew I wanted to get my tits done. Especially, after 2 kids and countless hours of pumping my life away, stretching the ever loving life out of these bad boys. Just typing this I’m fucking haunted by the ominous sound of the pump and the annoying pull of the machine at my breast.
However, it wasn’t until the day my 5-year-old confusingly looked at my naked body and asked, “Mami, why are your nipples so low and saggy?”. Um, “what the fuck” was my initial reaction, but clearly I couldn’t come at her that way. I simply explained this is what happens to some women’s bodies after having children and feeding them. But damn that shit cut deep, from the mouths of babes as they say! This was the point I became serious about a breast augmentation and a lift, my poor lifeless saggy titties. Long gone we’re my perky itty bitties that rocked hoops in each nipple never needing a bra. Ahhhhh the glory days!
Fast forward a few months, and my dope ass husband knowing how badly I wanted this told me this would be my Mother’s Day, birthday, Christmas, Memorial Day, Labor Day, Arbor Day gift for the next 2 years, or until he payed them off LOL! Let me tell you when I received this news my ass fell to the floor, out of pure joy and gratitude. I always thought my post baby body would only ever be a memory. Don’t get me wrong I’m all pro-body positivity, I love my body and the way it held and nourished my two babies, BUT I wanted to regain my sex appeal I wanted my mental image of who I am to match my physical. We lose, learn, and gain so much through the process of becoming mothers it almost seems fantasy like to ever regain a piece of that woman we were before them, and for me that’s symbolized by my physicality and sexuality; clearly it differs across women, but this was for ME.
The process of searching for a surgeon wasn’t bad given the area I live in there were a lot of great options to chose from. Personally, I went with the doctor and staff I got the best vibes from, had wonderful reviews, and made me feel most comfortable by their attention to detail and knowledge.
The night before my procedure I was calm, but also plagued by that bitch, MOM GUILT. Questioning my decision, was I being selfish by doing this? Who was going to hold my 2-year old when she needed a hug? Who was going to help pick her up on to the potty? Who was going to rough house and play with my 5-year old ? Damn was a bitch being too vain and not putting her kids first? But then I spoke to my mother, who talked me off the ledge explaining I owe this to myself, and you know what…HELL YEAH I DID! I explained to my eldest that “Mami was going to fix her low boobs, so they could look how they did before her and her sister were born”. My daughter cried and pleaded with me, “I want your tetas to stay down, Mami! I don’t want you to have up-tetas! You won’t be normal Mami anymore this is all I’ve ever seen you as”. And all I wanted to tell her was “No, this isn’t normal ME, I’m not used to seeing me this way! I want to feel normal!”. So yeah that was a fun ass conversation before putting her to bed.
The morning of surgery I legit spoke to my tits and thanked them for all they’ve done from feeding my girls, and comforting them when they needed to lay their head on my chest, but I also told them they were about to receive a fabulous makeover! My husband and I dropped our girls off for the next few days to my parents and we were off to the surgical center. Things went extremely smooth, I was confident in my doctor and his staff. Before I knew it was I in recovery trying to get up calling for my cousin, thinking we were at beach bar down the Jersey Shore (thank you anesthesia).
Four days later I’m here writing this post feeling sore, but great and confident in the decision I made for myself. I can’t wait to see the final healed process and rock these tetas to the wheels fall off! Stay tuned for the recovery details to follow.