Ain’t Nothin’ But a G-Thang….Baby….

Ya, no- not THAT kind of G- Thang….this kind….

bra1

It’s not all old skool gangsta rap and 40’s up in this house. But, it IS about the G’s now.

A little back story on why this is more insane than I can wrap my head around:

I was the very late bloomer kid who didn’t get her period until she was 16 or boobs until she was 18-19! Yes, that’s right….18-19. I was a dancer and for a while there, a model as well so it worked out okay for those things to have no breasts and still not look like a woman. However, it did not work well in my “real life.” No sir. I was teased about being flat chested in middle and high school and I knew none of the boys liked me and thought NEVER would because I had no boobs. My friends all developed quite early only adding to the obviousness of my “situation.” I cried often about this, I prayed for breasts. Shoot- I even prayed for my period! (What was I thinking)?!?! But by the end of high school- the boobs hadn’t arrived and I had learned to accept my flat chest, embrace it and just hope to find a guy someday who cared more about my eyes or my smile or maybe my long legs than my small rack. Or even my brain, soul and spirit?

Right around my freshman year in college I went from an A cup to a C cup out of no where and thought it was pretty cool but no longer needed any of that for self esteem (thank God). In time I went from a C to a D and eventually by the time I got pregnant I was steadily a 34D. My breasts were the first thing to grow in pregnancy and new bras were in order pretty soon thereafter. I have blogged about trying to save your boobs during the pregnancy process. I’ve talked about the cream I’m addicted to, Mama Mio’s Boob Tube and discussed needing new bras, sleep bras, etc. But it wasn’t until last week that “getting a new bra” took on a life of it’s own.

My “new bras” from a couple months ago were being busted out of so, I thought I’d pop into Victoria Secret for a one cup size up option. After dealing with the salesgirl for way too long who seemed just baffled by my request, I asked for someone else- perhaps a bra specialist? Did that exist at the Seattle Victoria Secret downtown? Why yes, it did. So the nice lady, Hannah, took me into the back dressing room area to measure me. The dressing rooms were all filled so she opted for me to leave my tank top on and measure me right there in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the back room changing area. Important note: Hannah was wearing a head set. She was often answering calls and even clicking her headset on and off while measuring me. Finally she stopped and said, “Yeah that’s what I thought.” “What?” I asked. As she gave me the gesture as to say “hold on, I’m getting a call” and clicked her headset to listen to something, she then clicked back and said to me….ON SPEAKER SO EVERYONE COULD HEAR… “Yeaaaaaah….so, you’ve sized out of our store.” Everyone stopped and looked to see the FREAK! She then quickly said, “Oops! Sorry about that. ” And clicked off her mic. I stood there mortified while she then gave me a list of 3 names at Nordstrom in the bra section to ask for. She said they carry very large sizes and should be able to assist me with my “special needs.” Oh my God seriously? Okay so I’m a special needs bra size now? How on earth did this happen? (Flashes of crying myself to sleep at age 13 after being teased by the boys for being flat as a pancake and praying for boobs jumped through my brain).

Off I go to Nordstrom with my special needs boobs. I was able to get measured and fit (in private, in a dressing room like a normal human being) with out the detail of my situation being blasted on a microphone for all to hear. The kind lady assured me a) they have plenty of bra options for me b) I should buy one with a tiny bit of room for more growth in the next month or two c) my breasts will grow much more when the milk comes in for nursing d) they carry bras through size K so I shouldn’t be worried about the future of my bra needs through pregnancy and nursing. K? Wait- so what size am I right now then? I was a 34DDD a couple months ago?

34G.

G is for good God woman your boobs are out of frickin’ control right now!

G is for these girls need to stop growing because I will not be oKay in a K!

I bought a strapless bra (featured above), a black lace one and a nude bra. They fit perfectly, feel wonderful, support my special needs and make me look better in clothes than I was looking in my DDD’s. All I can say is this is ironic on some other level to me, the girl who cried for boobs and didn’t believe my mom when she assured me some day I would have them. Perhaps I prayed just a little too hard? Either way…I’m adding 3x a day to my Boob Tube application and trying to mentally prepare for more growth. My husband has decided my current theme song is the one featured above and now refers to the girls as “The G’s.” Let’s keep it G-rated for a while okay boob fairy?

P.S. To the idiots who teased me all those years- ain’t nothin’ but a G- thang!  I hope somewhere along the road you realized that a woman’s value is not in her chest, but in who she is as a person. (Sorry I had to go there).

P.P.S. Will my daughter be a late bloomer as well? Probably. I hope so. Sound weird for me to hope so? Well, I had to develop my character and really push to like myself and learn who I was because I didn’t have boobs and because I wasn’t popular with the boys.  By the time I got them, they didn’t matter because I didn’t need them to feel worthy.

 

 

 

Miracle Moments

20 Weeks UltrasoundBabyFace

If you’re like me, the day/night before you have a big deal OB/doctor appointment or ultrasound you are riddled with worry and terrified something will be wrong. You stay up all night with concern. Essentially, you make yourself crazy. I’ve discussed this with some friends who are also currently pregnant and it seems we all tend to do the same thing. Some of us pray, some of us chant, some of us eat ice cream, some of us watch TV or movies to try to distract our thoughts. Either way you spin it, the night before one of your major OB or ultrasound appointments is nerve racking. Then, all of a sudden, you’re laying there on the table waiting for someone to tell or show you that your baby is okay, that everything is perfect and that you have nothing to worry about at that moment. Most of us are lucky enough to get that news although not all of us. It’s because of that fact that we worry. Every mom to be knows the odds- that some of us are and some of us aren’t going to be the lucky recipients of good news. My guess is that this will continue to happen until the baby is actually born and then it will manifest itself in new ways of worry that pertain to the baby’s health moving forward. I guess this is called being a mom!

That gorgeous, perfect, amazing, adorable, miracle of a photo above here, is from our 20-21 week ultrasound yesterday. We were lucky enough to be told our baby girl is looking perfect, that her brain, her heart, her kidneys, limbs, spine, lips, hands, feet, etc. are all where they should be, as they should be and looking wonderful. There I was on the table holding my husband’s hand with happy tears streaming down the sides of my face. We were squeezing each other’s hands every time we watched the ultrasound move to check another organ. She was moving around through the entire ultrasound! My husband joked that of course, she was dancing because she takes after her mom. He later joked when the tech was checking out her femur bones that she’ll probably have 6′ legs on a 5’10” body like her mom. Once things started going well in that room we relaxed, we could make jokes and we could enjoy each moment. Then, at one point, our little baby seemed to have her arm bent over her head in the same exact way her dad tends to fall asleep! He turned to me and said “Oh my God! Just like me!” It was just awesome. It was awe inspiring. It was a true miracle to watch. It made me believe in a higher power on another level, truly.

When we got home, I collapsed. My body gave out, my brain stopped working and I just couldn’t do one more thing. Finally all the worry, the sleepless night and fret caught up to me and I just fell into the couch. I could hardly even make it to the bed a couple hours later. Granted, we just came off of moving into a new home. I had been pushing myself for days packing our stuff up and then moving and unpacking and setting up our home. (Doing something like this is much harder pregnant and certainly pregnant and dealing with fatigue, migraines, etc. but better at 5 months than 9 right)?! I was exhausted going into this “night before a big ultrasound worry” but then it just zapped me completely. Luckily, I have a husband who understands, who steps up and who takes care of me in these moments. For that, I’m beyond grateful.

For these moments of miracles, for these tests and ultrasounds that make us crazy concerned, that drive us to pray and chant and stay up all night no matter how exhausted we already are…they are so worth it. They are also just one more part of the equation that makes us what we are in the process of becoming….a mother.

Now it’s time to get some rest and enjoy my baby dancing around inside me. Until the next big appointment! Here’s to getting some sleep!