Today marked the second time in a week someone has commented on my flat chest.
Sure, I’d sort of realised that since going back to work my boobs had shrunk a bit, but I didn’t realise it was so noticeable’
Admittedly I’ve had to pack a whole bunch of bras away until such a time as I become pregnant again, but it turns out my decreasing milk supply is also resulting in ill-fitting frocks!
I’m not quite sure how I feel about it to be honest.
I’ve always been proud of my figure, attributing my boobs to being one of my best physical features, so now that they’re almost gone (like, actually gone) I’m definitely disappointed.
I also feel torn between sadness and pride; sad that my boobs are disappearing into oblivion before my eyes, but proud that I’ve been able to use them to sustain a human life, Ayla’s life, for nearly fourteen months.
I’m sad about the change in my figure, but I’m also proud for having lost my baby weight in a healthy, natural way.
And, I’m sad about the loss of my “youth”… The days of squeezing into too tight tops just to see how many second glances I’d get are LONG gone, but I’m proud to have swapped that for a gorgeous baby girl and her adoring father, and proud that I’m proud of that!