I loved jump rope games: Lizzie Borden, Ice Cream Sundae, Cinderella (and what part of her fellow was she kissing that she made a mistake and kissed a snake instead?) My sister and I skipped all afternoon, chanting and challenging each other, until I was in fifth grade. That’s when someone in my class first called me “Melons.” The other kids thought it was hilarious, and can I blame them? My name’s Melanie and I had boobs.
Middle school: Rounded shoulders and frizzy hair combine to make my chest magically invisible.
My friends had plenty to say about my plenty, too. A cheerleader advised, “If you’ve got it, flaunt it,” while we changed for 7th grade gym. My first boyfriend’s braces gleamed when he repeated, “I just want to get up there.” My 32A BFF spent much of senior year poking fun at my 34DDs, assuring me that “anything more than a handful is too much.”
I wore dresses with waistlines veering toward my sternum, button-downs with gaping plackets, bras I overflowed, XL t-shirts to cover my otherwise M frame. The t-shirts topped my (strictly one-piece) bathing suits from middle school on. I said, “I burn too easily,” when what I meant was, “Those adult men actively ogling my chest make me squeamish.”
Sometime after Mom’s second breast reduction (the first one didn’t take), she sat me down to talk about the dangers of men; not your stereotypical ‘boys only want one thing’ chat but specific, scary stories about her large-bosomed teenage years. Then her mother sat me down. Grandma’s tale was less specific, but certainly no less scary.
In college, I discovered oversized blazers. I discovered that more than a handful didn’t have to be too much. I discovered that I could use being ogled to get my way, which meant every time I used that power, or even thought the power might be in play, I had to navigate my antipathy about it.
College: Blazer 100% effective at ensuring no one knows my cup size (except future spouse, also blazered, but for different reasons.)
By the time I weaned my kids, my bra size was 36G, which is a lot of literal baggage to carry around along with all of the psychic baggage that comes with big boobs. I’d spent thirty months using my breasts as God intended, if we presume that God wasn’t in the least interested in multi-functional body parts. (Or if we presume that God also wanted me to use them to attract a mate, that box had also been checked. Good job, boobs!)
Adulthood: Baby apologizes for making my boobs grow even larger by acting as a shield between my chest and the world.
I’d spent over twenty years hunching my shoulders as if I was a master artist capable of using angles and perspective to divert attention from my chest. My back hurt. Every day, all day. I paid upwards of $50 per bra at specialty stores. There were heat rashes and stretch marks and if I so much as walked fast, I bounced. You less-endowed people might think that bouncing is just unwieldy or discomfiting, but let me tell you: it hurts. It hurts a lot. It hurts your back and shoulders and chest wall. And finding a sports bra with both coverage and anything like support requires long hours online, cross-referencing and bookmarking and making obscure notes. Even then, you’re likely to end up squeezed so tight you can’t remove it once you’re sweaty, and bouncing anyway.
So I talked to people. Three friends who’d had reductions as young women (two very pro, one mixed review). My mom, whose third mammoplasty worked (pro). My husband (he’d support me so my bra wouldn’t have to). My insurance company, which eventually disclosed their criteria for medically necessary breast reductions. My GP, who documented my back pain and gave me a referral. A plastic surgeon, who measured the length from my neck to my nipples, checked out the permanent bra-strap grooves in my shoulders, and took pictures as I stood topless against his wall.
(This was not how I’d ever envisioned someone taking topless pictures of me.)
And then the wars began. A truism: insurance companies will work their asses off to avoid paying for surgeries. Deny, deny, deny. The surgeon’s assistant became my new best friend, as she and I donned chainmail and armed ourselves with billing codes, mammogram films, letters from my chiropractor, and her supernatural ability to stay on hold for hours waiting to talk to a supervisor. I trained myself to ignore that every claims person I spoke to was looking at a file containing my topless pictures.
(This was not how I’d ever envisioned my giant naked breasts being given a national stage.)
A mere eight months later, I had a date for my mammoplasty. Back to the surgeon I went, with a box of chocolates for his assistant. He drew all over my breasts with magic marker, and (this is a common thread in every breast reduction story I’ve heard) told me that a B cup would be too small for me to retain good nerve endings, so he’d aim for a C. We went over the usual pre-surgical things (meds, wound care, my worry that I’d lose all nipple sensation) and he wisely sent me home with a Valium.
Before I took it, I hugged my sons. A lot. The littler one was six, and still amenable to being picked up often for snuggles. Post-op I wasn’t going to be lifting a milk carton, much less my son. My husband said goodbye to the breasts he’d always known. I popped a pill and decided not to look back.
The operation itself was fine. Half an hour in the waiting room, four hours on the table, and next thing I knew I was a groggily gal in post-op. Despite the bandages, my breasts were noticeably smaller. When the boys visited, the first thing the younger one said was, “Mommy, you look skinnier!”
It took a couple of weeks of seeping pus and scar cream and random itching as the nerve endings reknit, and a couple more weeks for all the swelling and bruising to go away, but after that I did the most amazing thing. I walked into Target and bought a bra off the rack. It was even pretty! And it was a C cup.
That was ambitious of me. I was more of a D, but I had a point to make. Besides, my new breasts were so darn perky a bra hardly mattered. Except for the nipples.
Do you know how they cut for a keyhole-style mammoplasty? Do you want to know? (Probably you don’t, and you should close your eyes for the rest of this paragraph.) The basic cut is an inverted T; if the breast were a (saggy) globe, the cut would go from equator to equator via Antarctica. They put a metal disc like a washer over the nipple and cut around it, preserving milk ducts and nerve endings to the areola, but reducing the areola’s circumference, to be proportionate to the new breast size. After removing tissue from the breast and stitching you back up, they cut a nice washer-sized hole in the new center of the breast and pop the nipple and what’s left of the areola out of the hole before sewing it in place. Like ice fishing, but with mammary glands.
So before I left the hospital, the surgeon poked me in the nipple, and I yelped and he said, “Oh good, you have strong sensation there.” And then he did it to the other nipple. (I asked; friends with female surgeons underwent the same treatment.) The sensation was more than strong; my nipples hurt constantly that first month. They’ve since settled down, but they’ve never been ‘normal’ again. Eight years post-surgery and they’re the perkiest damn nipples you’ve ever seen outside of a topless hockey rink. Even the padded t-shirt bras don’t always keep them subtle, and trust me, I like you just fine, but I’m really not that happy to see you. The nerve endings are all kinds of screwy, so it’s a fine line between arousal and pain (not the good kind of pain), especially if the air’s the least bit cool. And forget actually being cold. I’ve figured out how to live with my new breasts when it comes to arousal and bra padding and the enduring numbness along those equatorial cuts, but winter weather destroys me. Fortunately I live in a mild area, so I don’t have to spend several months a year taking care never to be without layers for even a minute. One minute of cold nipples equals one hour of palming my chest, no matter how publically, to warm up so I’m no longer in pain.
There’s this one hair that used to grow at the top edge of my left areola. It emerges an inch south of the bottom edge now, smack dab in the middle of the scar, until I remember to pluck it out. Otherwise the scars aren’t much of a bother. They’re faint lines. I no longer look Frankenstein-monster-ish, except for the lumpy spots under my armpits where the disparate layers of skin were pulled together. And no one but my husband and me see the scars, and he’s seemingly unfazed by them. I’m the one who keeps messing with them, disconcerted that you could stick a pin in the scars and I’d not feel a thing. (Please don’t poke my scars with a pin.)
These days I buy clothes off the rack without worrying how they’ll stretch across my rack. My cardio routine never involves clutching my boobs firmly to keep them still, though I’m not as good at jump rope as I used to be. My chiropractor misses me. I can sleep on my stomach.
If I feel like flaunting it, I can. And if I don’t, I don’t need rounded shoulders and oversized blazers to serve as inefficient camouflage; I can just button up. I never can find safety pins anymore, now that I don’t have to keep piles of them around in case of gaps in my shirt.
Probably some of those men would have ogled me anyway, if I’d been a less-endowed teen. Young women everywhere are objectified and victimized; I just got to be one who was told outright that her breasts were gorgeous and that if I wasn’t a third his age he’d love to get a crack at them. A smaller chest doesn’t make a boyfriend any less likely to want to remove his girlfriend’s bra, or school peers less likely to taunt each other. We all have baggage, and growing up big-chested is part of mine.
Now that my baggage is less external, now that there has been an actual weight (about six pounds) taken off my shoulders, I’m shedding my internal baggage. It’s revelatory, having breasts that are just two more parts of Melanie, instead of the main things everyone sees about Melanie.
Medical benefits aside, the mammoplasty has allowed me to reshape my relationship to my body. To not see it as an unwanted and inaccurate calling card. To enjoy it some, to mistreat it some, to clad it in frilly bras or sports bras or no bras at all, but to do all of it for myself.
Tags: breasts, health, mammoplasties, people making choices, surgery
34FF, here. Actively working on no-rounded shoulders. I’ve never considered a reduction, though my friend (who is a 36J and has some other stuff going on) is considering it. But then, I was very flat chested until my alte teens, so my issues are always about being too small. I spent so long praying and begging for breasts that to remove any part of them would feel in some small part of myself like I was betraying my 13 year old self.
I’m glad you are happier with your body now.
So when you read Judy Blume, you thought “we must increase our bust” exercises were a good idea? Ah, you lucky youth. That was a horror story for me.
I actually did them. And I spent hours rubbing weird stuff on my chest bumps. My mum was a bit hppy-drippy, and she had a book that suggested that grapeseed oil and clary sage rubbed on the chest in circular motions could encourage growth. only I didn’t HAVE grapseed oil and clary sage. I had olive oil and citronella.
Oh, I was miserable. The biys at school told me I’d need a boob job if anyone was going to love me, and said I looked like a boy, and I once considered burning myself badly on the chest because then they might do some kind of reconstruction if I lied to them and told them I was bustier than I was.
I would like to respond sympathetically and kindly to your story, but I am far too busy giggling maniacally at “I had olive oil and citronella.”
I once read that soya sparked estrogen development meaning that young boys were growing breasts, and switched to soya milk for six months.
I hate soya milk.
I did so many stupid things to get those tits, and then they just sprouted overnight.
Yup, I went from desperately wanting boobs to “oh no, they’ve gone too far!” Be careful what you wish for, youths!
I had a guy in one of my high school classes give me the “more than a handful is too much” line. I told him that I’d just need to look for a man with a bigger “hand,” because eff that guy.
An “inaccurate calling card” is the best way I think Ive heard it described – a large chest basically walks into the room before you do.
I once had an octegenarian lady tell me that more than a mouthful is a waste.
My sister’s bakery used to sell a platter of mini-pastries, and the item’s description in their brochure and online menu included the phrase “More than a mouthful’s a waste.” I never had the nerve to ask if she came up with that or if her husband, who did much of their printing, did and if, um, she knew, um, what it, um… never mind, sis.
That’s awesome. When I learn to time/space travel I will be there to high five you at that moment.
You know you really can’t win with high school boys, right? If you’re well-endowed, you get the “more than a handful is too much” nonsense, and if you’re on the smaller side, you get nasty comments about being flat-chested or not really being a girl.
TRUER WORDS.
I wish I weren’t at work right now so I could give in to the hearty cry that this piece inspired. I have been toying with the idea of breast reduction for a while but I’m basically holding off since I expect to be pregnant some time in the next five years.
Melanie, thank you so much for sharing (slash uncannily echoing my own thoughts), especially about how body parts can slowly start to stand in for one’s whole body in an unnerving way.
Hugs, you. And if you get pregnant, and people tell you that breastfeeding will make you lose all that weight / breast tissue, know that those people are massive liars with no clue about how BF works for the well-endowed. They get bigger and stay bigger and weaning or not BF or BF for years ain’t got nothing to do with it.
I always lime to chime in here that mileage can vary about boobs and breastfeeding. I do think the “breastfeeding will make you lose weight” is one of the meanest, not to mention least scientifically tenable, things people tell new mothers. But I had the opposite experience with my boobs. I started out in J cup territory and after breastfeeding 2 kids for 1+ year each I’m now a pretty happy DD. It took a year or two after I weaned for my weight to stabilize and I think I’m probably a few pounds heavier than I was before I got pregnant (though also several years older, so there’s that too). But my boobs actually shrank after I weaned and only got a teeny bit saggier. I think dakimel’s experience is probably more common, but ending up with ginormous-er boobs was one of my greatest fears about getting pregnant so I always like to point out that it’s not a given! (Also: good grief, it is always a boob post of some sort that makes me delurk.)
Mine got smaller too, and I LOVE IT.
(Jealous!) (Though… maybe if I’d worked harder at losing weight within, say, a decade or so of weaning, it would have changed the dynamic.) (Also I nursed each kid for a couple of years, which could be its own contributing factor, who knows?) (Not science. Or old wives.) (I have nothing else to add, except that I’m too fond of parentheses, which y’all already know.)
I really enjoyed this! Breast reduction (which I just mistyped as “reeducation” heh) could be in my future at some point, so it’s good to hear that you had such a positive experience.
For now, I’m still riding the high of figuring out what my ACTUAL bra size is and making everyone I know listen to my crazed tirades about the Great American Bra Conspiracy.
I am in fact going to Nordstrom’s this very week to get new “correct” bras because the Internet has failed me repeatedly and I give up.
Every good thing everyone says about the bra-fitters at Nordies is correct (at least in my, and my friends’ experience). Good luck!
Nordstrom’s only did me okay. They somehow put me in a 32 band, even with a tape measure?? I’d measure yourself at home first, just to be sure.
I have a pretty strong idea from my home measurements what size I should be, but nothing I’ve ordered online has fit properly (I THINK the problem might be UK vs. US sizing?) so I am just hoping to try on a few different bras and go home with at LEAST one that fits.
In general, US bra sizing= crazypants, UK bra sizing= semi-logical. Safest bet is counting up from DD.
Also, the ABraThatFits sub Reddit is a pretty good place to get some extra ideas about what to try, especially if you’re in “close, but not quite” range.
Oh my gosh, ABraThatFits is the most magical, wonderful place on the internet. If I had a million dollars I (and my grateful 28GG breasts) would endow them when I die. Who knew Reddit could be actually useful for boobs?
Yeah, if you’re above DD, things start to get funky. I definitely second Beakses’s recommendation for reddit.com/r/abrathatfits – that place took me from 32DDD to 28FF. Life changing.
Reduction for you, reeducation for the world about who you are.
The Great American Bra Conspiracy is well worth several crazed tirades.
Agreed on the worthiness of Great American Bra Conspiracy tirades. It’s like even the bras that do come in larger cup sizes aren’t *made* for larger cup sizes.
I AM OBSESSED WITH BRA FITTING. Like, I could write an essay about how to find your best bra called “Adventures in Boobland” and I would still have more to say. That said, the joy of figuring out your final true bra size (I went from 34 A/B to 30E and finally don’t want to rip my bras off me at the end of the day) is glorious.
Paying for those weirdly sized bras is another story (although brastop.co.uk and the sales at bravissimo, figleaves, herroom, etc help me get most of what I need without going horrendously broke).
This is so good! “Like ice fishing, but with mammary glands” – HA. I’m glad this turned out well, and am creeped out anew by adult men who skeeve on a teenagers.
That line, oh man. The hair on the back of my neck is STILL standing on end, and the only reason I’m not clutching my boobs in sympathy anymore is because I need my hands for typing.
32G here. I’ve considered reduction surgery, and my partner is supportive (heh) if I ever decide to go that route.
I’m doing better in the past few years since I figured out where to buy bras online, and I’ve gotten fairly good at being able to judge whether or not a particular style will work for me before ordering. US ladies, if you don’t know about UK-based figleaves.com, check them out! You do have to pay return shipping but only to an address in New York, and then they bulk ship back to UK (at least I think that’s what they do).
My size/shape is so ridiculous that even the fancy bra stores that have a reputation for being able to size and fit anyone don’t have anything for me. True story: the bra fitter in one of these shops was almost in tears after trying and failing to find me a suitable bra. Imagine how I felt!
Is it worth it to fly to Europe just to find bras that fit and don’t cost a million dollars? Maybe not. But if you’re going anyway, and Marks & Spencer is right there on the high street, do yourself a favor and stop in.
I have a work trip to the UK this summer and you better BELIEVE I’m adding a few vacation days onto the end of it to go bra shopping in London.
Don’t forget the v expensive Rigby and Peller and the less expensive Bravissimo!
forget Marks and Spencer, and get thee to a Bravissimo! Them and Breakout Bras here in the US are what keep my 34HH self very comfortable.
If I were the praying type, I’d pray every day for M&S to make the move overseas and open stores in the US.
What IS Marks & Spencer exactly? I have heard of it but thought it was a drugstore for some reason? Clearly I have been misled (though I’d be pretty into a drugstore that sold bras).
It’s a department store, essentially, but they only sell their own brands and their own brands are actually pretty great quality. Most stores also have a food hall/supermarket attached and the Marks prepared food is fantastic.
Marks & Spencer is also in Canada!
I’ve checked out figleaves.com a million times, but have been too wary of online bra shopping to give it a try. Today’s the day! I’m a 32H and just want something that isn’t beige for once in my life.
I really struggle with fittings & finding appropriately sized bras. I’ve had ok luck with the Chantelle (I think?) brand, but they’re exorbitantly priced and I really only buy one a year (max.) I’ve mostly made do with some additional accessories (like these little silicone pads that fit around/under your bra straps and have done wonders for me when it comes to bra-strap-related pain.
Their mailing list sends out coupon codes for 20% off sometimes. Also, if you have an order history with them and you leave things in your shopping cart, sometimes they’ll shoot you a 20% off coupon to entice you to buy!
They’ve stopped carrying my favorite bra (the Wonderbra D-G line t-shirt bra) for US customers. Most recently I tried a bra from one of their (inexpensive) store brands (Just Peachy) and am really liking it.
Also! Once you have a good sense for what works for you (HAHA I know, easier said than done), ebay is THE PLACE for reasonably priced bras. There are tons of enterprising people on there buying up huge quantities of overstock bras from places like Nordstrom and reselling them for way cheaper than list price. I think a lot of the time they’re bras that were on display or are last season’s colors or whatever, but still new. I’ve gotten Chantelle bras for around $25, and you can find lots of other brands/styles for even less. It takes a lot of patience, but is well worth it to get $90 bras for 25 bucks (because really, $90, are you high???).
Try Nordstrom Rack? I’m pretty sure Chantelle is a brand they carry, and smaller bands/ larger cups are actually in reasonable supply a lot of the time.
Once you know what size/brand you like, watch for it on eBay. I *love* a bra that is usually $150+, but discontinued colors pop up on eBay regularly for $50 or less.
(Also, try Primadonna bras. They are seriously the best thing I’ve ever tried for small band/big cups and very, very pretty to boot. Super expensive, but if you know your size herroom.com and ebay have deals on discontinued colors/styles. If you’re in a city, Intimacy carries them and you can figure out your size from a fitting there. I’ve also had good luck with the Elle Macpherson brand for unpadded styles, especially with 3 part underwire cups.)
I’m a 34FF – your size isn’t ridiculous at all! I’ve recently gotten a bra from Ewa Michalak – they make custom bras in sizes from 28 to 65, and they’re great! http://www.ewa-michalak.pl/ Check them out – it came out to $65 for me, including shipping.
Oh maaaan I keep going to their website and staring at all the bras and putting things in my cart and then chickening out because how do you know they’ll fit??? Even figuring out sizing seems hard enough, let alone if something will be the right sort of shape, and then you’re stuck with a beautiful $65 bra from Poland that you can’t wear and it just stresses me out even thinking about it.
How did you figure out it please teach me your ways (I’m a 32FF in British stuff, so pretty close to you)
Ooh, yay, bra talk! Okay, so I used my European size as well, based on my Freya bras. If you’re not sure about how well a bra will fit, you can use the Bratabase here http://www.bratabase.com/ to see how it sits on other people, and you can eyeball whether their shapes look similar to yours. I found the model of the bra I ended up buying there, with comments about how much give the cups/band had to give, what similar sizes in other brands are, comparative fit, . I like a fairly tight fit so things don’t jiggle, and I went with the SM Trefl: http://www.ewa-michalak.pl/product-eng-361-SM-Tre… . The SM range is exactly what I like – underwire, no padding, just a straight-forward full-coverage yet pretty bra. I find the fit very true to my size in the Freya.
My experience has been that unlined bras run about a cup large, and the plunges about a half-cup small. The bands seem to vary quite a bit between styles, so I second the recommendation to check the measurements for the bra you’re looking at on Bratabase. The bands use European sizing (60=28, 65=30, etc.), while the cups are the same as English sizing. I just got the Pl Cappuccino in the mail today: at $60, it’s the most by quite a bit that I’ve ever paid for a bra, and it is SO worth it. I’m hoping to try Comexim next, but their size range is even more intimidating.
Nordstrom. Eat ramen for a week if you have to to afford it, but get to a Nordstrom, get fitted, and revel in the surprisingly large selection they have. I’m a 36G and Nordstrom is a goddamn lifesaver full of professional and kind ladies who are boob wizards.
Thank you for sharing! This procedure is something that’s been in the back of my mind for a long time and you’ve given me a lot of food for thought.
This is awesome, and I am so happy for you, and so happy to see it here.
I would say I was never happier than the day I came home from my reduction mammoplasty, but that’s not entirely true; I was probably a little happier than that a few days later, when I put on my very first ever spaghetti strap tank top. With the exception of the miserable first few hours in the recovery room, when I felt like I couldn’t breathe, I was literally more comfortable even immediately after the surgery than I was before it, finally having that huge weight off my chest. (Admittedly, the recovery from surgery probably didn’t seem so bad to me because I was comparing it to my bunionectomies — that is the absolute worst, bone surgery on an extremity — so soft-tissue surgery on the chest was so much easier for me, in comparison.) Anyway, that was fifteen years ago and I’ve never looked back. Even if I can’t breastfeed (don’t know yet). Even though as I age my breasts have gotten bigger again and also changed shape in slightly unpredictable ways. Even so. No regrets. It was and continues to be worth it, not to be in pain every day.
I have a couple of friends who had reductions then BF successfully, though it’s not always a slam-dunk of course. But if you can’t, you can’t. (And if you can, it’s not like it’s the law that you do.) (Yet.) (Ha.)
Oh, spaghetti strap tops! Who knew I would ever get to wear you?
Seconding everything you say, except the happiest day was when I buttoned my first button down shirt.
I am a very squeamish person; thank you for considering my needs on page 2.
Thank you for sharing this. Also, “perkiest nipples you’ve ever seen outside of a topless hockey rink” made me giggle helpessly.
I am happy to read that the surgery was a success. (I’ve considered it myself.) Also why is buying bras a task similar to finding the Holy Grail? It’s a simple engineering problem to make a bra that fits. Apply yourselves, designers!
This is why we need more female engineers in the world. Send your daughters to physics camp, people!
THIS. Whenever I wear an underwire bra (less than once a month) my focus after ~2 hours is “WHY HAVE ENGINEERS NOT COME UP WITH A LESS PAINFUL WAY TO ACHIEVE THIS.”
Except everyone needs a different fit. It’s not like there could be one magical bra that fits everyone. Have you seen people? We are very different!
But I think for most people there are well-fitting, not-insanely-expensive bras out there. In the US, the problem seems to be in a lack of retail options and rampant misinformation. (Bands under 30?! Cups over DDD?! What is that sorcery!)
I was large chested starting in grade 8 and combined with frizzy hair, glasses, braces and pathological shyness/social anxiety/depression, having “big boobs” didn’t help in the slightest.
They were always a physical and emotional burden so at the ripe old age of 38 (or thereabouts), I went to my physician, gave him the rundown, got the referral, saw the plastic surgeon, chose a cup size (from G to C) then settled in for the wait.
Eighteen months later (Canada!) I had the (no cost-Canada!) surgery and today, I still wish I had it done earlier-back pain is gone, I appear in proportion, less harassment AND my girls look fan-fucking-tastic in a tank top. Healing was a dream and scarring was minimal; this was due to the surgeon’s skills (super top notch, so the health care rumours went) and my own dumb luck.
I cannot recommend this surgery enough times and I have the numerous flashings to friends, family and the occasional friend of a friend to prove it.
Wanna wear a halter top? SURE! WHY NOT? No longer having to consider the substructure necessary for any outfit is pretty damn sweet.
Preach. The last time I tried wearing a bathing suit with a halter top that knotted behind my neck, I lost my vision for a few moments because it cut off the circulation to my head. Substructure indeed.
Halter top swim suits are a JOKE
NOT THE FIRST TIME I’VE WISHED I LIVED IN CANADA.
For my pre-mammoplasty Toast sisters: I am white, but have a cousin who is African-American. She helped me learn to shop in cities with a large black population, such as Houston or Philadelphia. Shopping for bras where there are more black customers means more large cup sizes in inventory.
I’m in Houston, and this was one of my strategies, for sure. Except for the mall in my super-white suburb, which is useless. Even the maternity store in that mall didn’t carry large enough nursing bras.
I hear you. My cousin and I target stores in African-American neighborhoods and avoid the whiter parts of town for that very reason. You are wise.
These days I buy clothes off the rack without worrying how they’ll stretch across my rack. My cardio routine never involves clutching my boobs firmly to keep them still, though I’m not as good at jump rope as I used to be. My chiropractor misses me. I can sleep on my stomach.
This made me tear up with joy for you. Such simple things, and such a pleasure to have them within your grasp!
“grasp”
hee
(thanks)
My bad. I meant “grope.”
Thanks so much for writing about your experiences. I’ve considered a reduction on an off (I wear a 32H and it’s just a lot to carry around, I guess). It’s so helpful to read something from someone that’s been there & is willing to talk about the procedural side of thing and the emotional side. The back pain I have is moderate but constant, but the real allure is just being able to WEAR STUFF. Stuff like: tank tops, bathing suits, dresses that are not empire waisted (it’s not like I don’t like a challenge, but negotiating my tremendously narrow waist with the reality of my chest measurements has made most dresses impossible – I just want to buy and wear a dress!). There’s a whole wide world of stuff out there that I would love to wear and feel comfortable in. Plus I am slowly going broke buying specialty bras (and fashion tape to keep my button downs buttoned.)
As much as I love my comically large breasts, the idea of just walking into Target and picking out an inexpensive bra that fits in a color and style of my choosing and wearing button-down shirts and sleeping on my stomach and and and makes me want to schedule an appointment for a reduction immediately.
You know they make ’em in, like, purple & teal zebra stripes, and also the straps can have lace on them and not be super-padded in an attempt to keep permanent grooves from being dug into your shoulders? So weird!
I own all these button-down shirts now, but I still forget to wear them because I still forget that I’m allowed to, now.
My first college boyfriend thought “melons” was an appropriate term of endearment. Needless to say, he did not remain my boyfriend for long.
Also, while reading this I was concurrently looking over a list of references in a medical journal article. One of these references came from a journal abbreviated as “Dis Chest”. Dis chest indeed.
😀 Please tell me there’s also a urology journal called Deez Nuts
A friend of mine was denied breast reduction surgery to get to a B cup (she began at DD) for similar reasons your doctor mentioned in the story – but also because he kept insisting that my friend might want children. My friend most assuredly does not – but the doctor refused to listen. Now that my friend is even older, they would prefer top surgery, but still can’t get it covered or funded, and thusly end up double-binding all day and being pretty damn dysphoric.
Whhaaaat. That is horrible. Does the doctor realize that you can actually have children even without functioning milk glands? Jesus.
I don’t think the doctor cared. He was much more invested in my friend being a heteronormative, “functional” potential mom. He was apparently a horrid person. But, sadly, we don’t often get to make choices around who we get to see for those procedures if working within the constraints of our insurance.
This is similar to a friend who when being interviewed prior to approval (canada) for GCS was asked “what does your girlfriend think about this?” Which, like, fuck that. Her body, her choice.
Call insurance, ask them their criteria for medically necessary. Write down all the buzz words.
Go to doctor, complain of heat rash / shoulder pain / neck pain / poor sleep / poor posture. Get itch cream Rx (you don’t have to fill it.) Get referral to chiropractor or PT. Document everything.
Go back to doctor after a month, say “those options were, sadly, not remedies. Hmmm. Do you think it’s time to consider a medically necessary breast reduction?” Get referral to (different, less jerkwad) surgeon.
Groundwork is key. Also, insane persistence and the ability to tolerate hours of hold music.
(Also, WHY? WHY are women not allowed to have some idea of how they want their own bodies to operate?) (Next up from Mel: the long-ass saga of obtaining my hysterectomy.)
(Not really. It’s tedious. But OUR BODIES, people.)
Indeed – top surgery (bilateral mastectomy) is trickier though, since most insurance providers refuse to cover it at all.
I’m considering reduction at some point in the future, so THANK YOU for writing this. I just have one question: what does it mean if a mammoplasty “doesn’t take?” Just that the breasts grow after the procedure is done? Or something far, far worse?
Oh, god, now I’m having nightmare visions of the far, far worse.
No, it just meant that the tissue grew back so it’s like: enjoy your surgical scars with the added insult of continued back pain!
I’ve gained weight since my reduction, and some of that is in my chest, but it’s not nearly as aggressive as it was with my mom. Plus, when I lose weight, it actually drops off my chest first, which was never ever ever the case pre-surgery.
(Yes, when that back-in-time thing works out, I’ll send you the coordinates.)
Also, can I go back in time and destroy all the grown-ass men who ogled teenaged you?
unrelated: is your avatar a wug?
It is! I am a giant linguistics nerd.
now there are multiple wug/z/! the wug test definitely wins for cutest psycholinguistic experiment.
Ahhh, complicated feelings. I remember reading an interview with Drew Barrymore when I was a teenager about how she thought she looked so much skinnier after her breast reduction, and it left me feeling more self-conscious than I thought possible about how my boobs made me seem to others. Now, I know my problem is not as serious as others’, but there’s still the physical pain, trouble finding clothes, and wearing scarves all the time at work to hide cleavage I can’t help…argh. The dressing room is probably where it hits home the most, particularly when my boobs take up the entire top half of a dress every damn time! And I wonder if my body will ever seem proportional and normal to me.
But anyway, y’all know all this. Thank you so much for sharing your story, and I’m so glad your surgery went well (the thought of that literal weight off one’s chest—so freeing!). It’s hard being a woman no matter what you look like in this world, that’s for sure.
Mel this is so great! This is so warm & funny and also informative! You are great.
Aw!
Oh body image, you multi-headed beast you. For all the other larger busted ladies with clothing and bra angst, check out BiuBiu, a polish clothing site where you buy by your bust size and can have button downs that don’t gape, Pepperberry, a British site that does the same and is a sister store to Bravissimo (which handles the bras) and Breakout Bras, here in the US, which stocks UK sized D cup and up sizes and give you 15% off after your first purchase. I swear to your favorite higher deity that I actually got tears in my eyes the first time I tried on a button down shirt that fit over my bust and nipped in at the waist.
Also! Urkye (suprisingly affordable for a Polish import), and Campbell & Kate do great things for the well-endowed. There are probably a few more I’m forgetting. There are a lot of old-season Pepperberry items on eBay, too, for quite reasonable prices.
thanks for writing this – I had breast reduction at 19 and I know every feeling you describe intimately, down to the painful nipples.
I ended up a 38D despite requesting a B or C. it makes me a little angry because I still can't wear button up shirts off the rack, but oh, the feeling of fitting into regular tshirts was so glorious afterwards. I also had wound healing issues, but I've never been as self conscious about the keyhole scars as I was about my original breasts. I would do it over again and again.
to all considering breast reduction surgery in the thread: it is possible to partially breastfeed after surgery. my surgeon told me, as a teenager, I would never ever breastfeed ever. I still had milk come in when I had my kiddo and was able to do some BFing, with support from a clinic that specialized in it. that said, even if I'd had no milk, I would never have regretted the surgery.
Oh my gosh, ABraThatFits is the most magical, wonderful place on the internet. If I had a million dollars I (and my grateful 28GG breasts) would endow them when I die. Who knew Reddit could be actually useful for boobs?
My experience has been that unlined bras run about a cup large, and the plunges about a half-cup small. The bands seem to vary quite a bit between styles, so I second the recommendation to check the measurements for the bra you're looking at on Bratabase. The bands use European sizing (60=28, 65=30, etc.), while the cups are the same as English sizing. I just got the Pl Cappuccino in the mail today: at $60, it's the most by quite a bit that I've ever paid for a bra, and it is SO worth it. I'm hoping to try Comexim next, but their size range is even more intimidating.
But I think for most people there are well-fitting, not-insanely-expensive bras out there. In the US, the problem seems to be in a lack of retail options and rampant misinformation. (Bands under 30?! Cups over DDD?! What is that sorcery!)
Also! Urkye (suprisingly affordable for a Polish import), and Campbell & Kate do great things for the well-endowed. There are probably a few more I'm forgetting. There are a lot of old-season Pepperberry items on eBay, too, for quite reasonable prices.