Pssst, I’m Black….but I Want Bigger Boobs! Part 2

So, I did it….I got boobies!  I was planning on doing a You Tube video to share the before, during and after, but my computer went on the fritz and I honestly just didn’t feel like recreating it.  So, I thought “let me make this a 2-part blog post!”  But, even this took me a while to get to, because most people who I’ve shared this with feel pretty strongly that I don’t need to get new hooters and that if I insist on getting them I don’t need to talk about it.  “It’s a personal decision”, “People are haters”, “How natural is that!?” are just a few of the comments I got as I explored this decision.  I really sat and thought about it for a while, and besides the fact that it will be obvious as soon as I post my next pictures, I ultimately decided to share for 2 reasons.  1) I’m not, at all, embarrassed, ashamed or overly concerned with what people think and 2) These (beautiful) bazookas hurt like a MoFo and I feel compelled to make sure my sisters in the itty-bitty titty committee know what they may be signing up for!

Ok…so starting with reason number 1.  Disclaimer:  this is coming from a slightly defensive posture, given some of the feedback I’ve already gotten.

No….my fake, silicone 400cc’s are not a natural part of my body, so does that disqualify me as “Natural Fit Mom”?  Ummm….I’ll respond with a swift “hell no”.  If you’ve been following me you know that the “Natural” comes from my love, passion and almost militant preference for wearing my natural hair over weaves and relaxers.  If not, you can get caught up here.  While, any Black woman who has gone natural will definitely understand the immense freedom found in loving our natural hair, the concept can be felt by anyone.  For anyone who has struggled with accepting society’s definition of beauty being forced upon them, to the detriment of their own health, and finally being able to let go of it.  But irrespective of that, I was faking the tata’s anyways!

And for that matter, a lot of women do!  From push up bra’s to chicken cutlets to breast enhancing pills (that actually work by the way.  You just HAVE to keep taking them which costs a fortune and is kind of irritating!) my poor twins were constantly bucking for the best actress award.  Those were all props in the recurring act of “I’ve lost all my breast tissue after breast feeding two kids and getting down to 9% body fat”.  It’s just that I had to take those props on and off “stage” every day.

And while I’m going down this path, I might as well confess to wearing mascara, blush, lhigh heeled shoes  and using the effects/edit options  on all my selfie’s to show myself  in my best light in every picture!  Come on ladies….let’s admit it….we all do it!  There are lots of things that we do that aren’t necessarily natural but we accept them as standard.  And let’s thank God that we do!  Because being 100% natural has the potential to end the human race, as no one would continue to mate with stinky, ashy, foul breathed partners, if wearing deodorant, lotion and brushing our teeth was considered vanity.  I know, I know…it’s hygienic, but I think you get my points.  But, let’s set that aside too.

Besides embracing the importance of eating clean, unprocessed, whole , natural foods, the real point of Natural Fit Mom is about being naturally YOU.  Being whoever you want to be regardless of what other people think.  Being natural to your spirit and what makes your heart happy. Some women feel in their element bumming around braless, in sweat pants and flip flops.  Some only feel natural in 6” stiletto’s and sporting a red lip.  Some women think all of that is too conventional and proudly tattoo every inch of their body and polish themselves off with shiny stainless steel piercings.  Me not getting my juicy doubles because of public opinion would be just as bad, if not worse, than getting them because I felt pressured to.  No one else matters…this was for me (and my husband, who did come around like I knew he would and was urging me to go big or go home…ugh, men!)

My dear friends from my Mom Power Team said it the best and helped me articulate what I couldn’t find the words for.  I’m the kind of woman who goes after what I want.  I’m a doer.  This isn’t necessarily about making myself feel better or trying to improve self-confidence.   LOL…those who are close to me know I don’t struggle with self-esteem.  Mostly because I work my butt off for everything that I want to make me happy!  It really sucked achieving everything I’ve wanted, but taking off my bra at night and see that my headlights had dimmed.  They didn’t match or reflect all the hard work I put into my body.  Nor were they representative of my assertive, I can achieve anything I want, personality.    Ahhhh….but they used to!  Boy, I had a nice rack back in the day. The girls definitely helped me pass a class or two back in undergrad!  Nothing  crazy…I just knew that my male professors were still just men, so sitting in the front row in a low cut top and asking questions, could be the edge I needed.   I digress…lol!  So, I woke up one day and realized that I didn’t have to live without something I wanted.  Dammit…if I can get boulder shoulders, why can’t I just have boulders?!  So a little “reconstructive” surgery to take me back to my golden days, with accrued interest, was exactly what I was going to do!  I am 9 days post op and I’m sooooo glad I did!  But if you would have asked me 1-6 days post op, I would have told you to leave me the hell alone with my meds!  Which leads me to reason number two for this post..

2.  Bosom surgery hurts!  Well, not the surgery…I was blissfully knocked out for that, but the IMMEDIATE moments afterwards and every second for the next several days sucked!  And NO ONE talks about this!!  What the hell ladies?!  We can instantly bond over horror stories of pregnancy and childbirth, menstrual cramps, and crushing breakups with ex-boyfriends, but why aren’t we talking about this pain?  I consulted many girlfriends who already had their tidbits transformed and Nobody warned me how bad this would hurt.  Not to mention the frustration of The Band.  So, now you can consider yourself warned.  I’m telling you…this beats childbirth!  During labor you can get an epidural and it’s all gravy after that.  But with this…there was no amount of medication that would take the pain away.  The best I could do was medicate enough to fall asleep and even then my husband said I was moaning with pain in my sleep.

Now mind you, I’m no wuss.  I never call in sick to work, I worked out days after dislocating my knee, I volunteered to go home early from the hospital after giving birth to my son, but this…..this took me OUT!  You need to understand the immensity of the pain I’m trying to describe.  This was AWFUL!  And while I had meds, they were only partially helpful.  I was prescribed Oxycodone.  Yep…that stuff that people make so much fuss over.  Well, I don’t see what the big freaking deal is…they didn’t do a darn thing  for me.  I mean, it might as well have been an aspirin pill for how much it helped.  But in total candor, I only assign 70% of my unstoppable pain to the actual surgery.   15% goes to the big brown eyes of my baby boy that compelled me to pick him up when I shouldn’t have, which only served to aggravate and delay my recovery.  The remaining 15% of the pain is likely because I have a high tolerance for pain medication as well.  The consequences of being the eldest daughter of a single father, who was pitifully uncomfortable trying to comfort his daughter through vomit inducing menstrual cramps, and being fed Vicodin for 5-7 days every month since the age of 13.  Hey…he was a doctor and did the best he could!  Still my hero to this day.  Again, I digress….lol!

The point is, augmenting your apples will hurt like hell and you should be prepared for it!  I remember when my doctor said that I should be able to drive within a week of the surgery and I thought to myself…..a week, to be able to lift my arms to drive?  Boy, doc, you’ve been operating on some serious pansies!  Well it didn’t take a week, but almost, and I can easily see how it could for some people.  Anyways, I think I’ve made my point.  If you are considering fine-tuning your dueling banjos be prepared for the pain.  It is the worst pain of my life.  It hurts like hell.  You will want to rip your cha-cha’s right off.  Ok….I’m done.  My moral duty as a woman is complete!

Phew…now that, that is off my chest, let’s talk about what’s on it!  My darling new dumplings!!! Hahaha….ok, I’m just kidding!  I won’t bore you with how much I love them and I’m soooooo glad I got them.  But ladies, I will say this…it used to be debatable who would win an argument in my house.  Well, there will be no debate any longer.  If I feel myself losing ground, all I’ve got to do is let a little nip slip and I win!  Yeah baby…now tell me that ain’t worth it!

So, the next challenge is what in the world to do with myself for the next two weeks while I can’t work out?  Maybe a part 3 to close out this series?  Clean eating for honker health?  Getting back into tip top shape with new twin peaks? LOL…we’ll see.  Stay tuned!

And in case you are wondering.  It was my mission to use only breast euphemisms throughout this post!  This handy website definitely helped!  http://mycampustalk.com/262-names-for-boobs/

 BEFORE (yes, I am bent over squishing my boobs up and together to try and drum up some cleavage!)

AFTTER (9 days post op.  They are still sitting pretty high but will settle into place over the coming months)