They Came, They Saw, They Went.

I have never been blessed with a well endowed chest.  That is putting it mildly.  One of my friends in high school used to call me "2x4", which was eventually shortened to just "4" as I was not only flat as a board but also wore glasses (at the time he seemed like a friend although I question that now that I am an adult looking back on those years).  I was beyond self conscious about this "impediment" during my adolescence to the point I was saving my babysitting money for a boob job sometime down the road.  If you knew me then or now you'd realize the ridiculousness of this statement - I barely wear make up....so to cosmetically alter my body whilst inflicting pain for the sake of vanity would never happen!  I think I had hoped in the back of my mind that I was just going to be a late bloomer...that my girls would eventually make their debut.  I gave up on this notion by the time I was halfway through college.

Luckily mental maturity came and I accepted that I would likely have to shop in the juniors department for my bras for the rest of my life.  I tried to embrace to positive aspects of the little breasted world.  Let's face it, bras are not the most comfortable, and I didn't have to wear one!  I could wear cute spaghetti strap tank tops and sun dresses.  I never had to worry about a wardrobe malfunction.  I could exercise in peace without having to use industrial strength packing materials to keep them bound.  I wouldn't have to worry about sagging in my elder years.  Yes, small breasts were a blessing in disguise (sort of).

Then the wonderful day came when I found out I was pregnant.  Obviously it was a joyous event that would change our lives.  Blah blah blah.  But finally, my non arriving breasts would soon be here.  That was about the only thing of pregnancy (outcome of having a baby aside) I was looking forward to.  OK, I also liked the "free pass to eat" that I granted myself.  However, I'm sure that is why I'm partially in my current predicament.  At any rate, the weight gain, shortness of breath, aches and pains, farting, stretching of skin, the feeling of my daughter moving around (I'm sure it's totally not PC to say this but all I could picture was the scene from Aliens when that creature burst out of the stomach every time the baby moved!), heartburn, etc.  But through it all I'd finally know what life on the other side, the large chested side, would be like.  I was secretly hoping for a porn star sized set to get the full experience.

Well, let me tell you, mother nature had other ideas for me.  Not only did the porn star set fail to arrive, but I think my body missed the memo about breast development in pregnancy altogether.  Midway through I was wondering why I was wearing the same bras as I did pre-pregnancy.  I figured just as in puberty I'd be a late bloomer.  I never anticipated being a non bloomer.  That's right, for the second time my boobs never came (OK, obviously there was some development but it was minimal).  The best part was the humiliation of outfitting myself.  By the end of my pregnancy I was so explosively large in the stomach I had to buy shirts to accommodate my burgeoning belly.  As one might expect, the chest size of these shirts was also adjusted to account for what anyone would presume would be a burgeoning chest.  So I either had to walk around with large saggy baggy folds in the front of my shirt where it was obvious breast matter should have been, or borrow my husband's tube socks to fill out the extra material.  How glamorous to be stuffing your bras during the final months of a pregnancy.  Cruel sick joke.

After the birth and in the subsequent three or so years of weight fluctuation I have developed a small chest.  It's more than what it was in my pre-pregnancy days.  Given the genetic card I was dealt, I was happy to have a little extra in that area, not much, but enough to manufacture a small amount of cleavage with the right wardrobe assistance!  Alas, the ONLY attribute I have become fond of in my chubbier days is now leaving me.  Sadly this area seems to be one of the first to shrink in size.  It's almost as if someone popped a balloon. Why can't the weight loss gods take my stomach?  Or some extra ass fat?  A spare chin you say...sure, that's up for grabs too.  But please o please, don't take what little chest I've been afforded post child!  Oh it's true.  I put on a shirt today and realized I'm looking flatter.  I guess the girls had a good run while it lasted.  I would love to know what it feels like to be super model skinny with a nicely endowed (OK, I'd even settle for a handful!) chest.  Alas, they came, they saw, they went.  I hope the rest of my REAL problem areas take not and follow suit!