A Love Letter To My Pre-Baby Boobs

Dear Pre-Baby Boobs,

Although my whole body has irrevocably changed since I had children, it is you that I miss the most. Sure, I miss being able to laugh without checking to see if I peed. Yes, I miss my shoes since I had to give them away when my feet grew half a size. And of course, I long for a toned belly.

But boobs, no matter if my weight fluctuated — if I got a bad haircut or a giant fever blister covered my face — you were the one constant, flattering feature I could always rely upon. And now, sadly, you are not.

You used to be the piece de resistance of my body. A perky B+, you were the perfect size. While bras were helpful, you were small enough that they weren't mandatory. But you were big enough to give my small frame some curves and sex appeal.

In the parlance of Seinfeld, you were real and you were spectacular.

Dear boobs, I now realize that I took you for granted. For over a dozen years, you stayed true to me and I never thanked you or marveled in your glory. Maybe I wasn't grateful enough. Maybe I didn't treat you right. Because as soon as I stopped breastfeeding, you abandoned me.

You shrank. You flattened. You fell. My full, rounded B+ breasts deflated to sad, flat A pancakes.

Don't get me wrong, boobs — I am profoundly amazed at what you accomplished. You fed two human beings! That's fantastic! And you did it without bloody nipples or mastitis or any of the painful things that I worried about for months. Go you!

It's just that now that your job is over, you've decided I don't need you anymore. I may not need you, but I want you. I want you to help me feel attractive when I don't. I want you to make me feel like a woman, not just a mom.

But alas, no pleas (unless ones to a plastic surgeon) will revitalize you. So I need to learn to move on. But before I do, I need to say thank you.

Thank you for the wonderful years we had together. Thank you for allowing me to feel confident when you arrived in time for the one and only school dance I attended. Thank you for filling out summer dresses and tank tops without bras. Most importantly, thank you for feeding my sons.

I know I'm more than just the sum of my parts. I'm still attractive (when I manage to shower). I'm still me. So maybe I don't have my spectacular boobs anymore — at least I have a couple of spectacular padded bras.