The Pregnant Waddle

Pre-Pregnancy Weight Just Around the Corner (It's Trying to Run and Hide)

Thursday, April 27, 2006

An open letter to my breasts

Dear ladies,

Well, it’s been a wild, wild ride these last eighteen months. I feel like we’ve grown and developed quite a bit, and perhaps the time has come to take stock of our relationship.

It seems like a long time since we were lighthearted and carefree, perky, with a bounce in our step. Those golden days when nothing dragged us down, before the worrying teeth of care closed, bulldog-like, upon us, have faded into the distant past. First we sensed a percolating tenderness, followed by burgeoning soreness, followed by escalating swelling, followed by increasing floppiness. Though many tried to uplift us and lessen our burden, it remains with us still. Every morning we awake full and rejuvenated. By nightfall, we are drained.

You have been exposed to much this past nine months, and for this I apologize.* I have tried to provide you with space in which to express yourselves, but sometimes, unavoidably, the blanket of reticence is ripped away by the flailing arms and legs of demand. We must accept the fact that we cannot always conceal ourselves.

However, it must be said that, occasionally, I feel like we hold up unequal loads in this relationship. I will do all I can to support you; in return, please do not lose all sense of proportion and form. With this compromise, I am sure we can experience a lifetime of mutual fulfillment.


* Incidentally, the state I live in encourages but does not require employers to provide places for employees to express milk. I did contact the lone female assistant principal last summer to ask if there were an abandoned utility closet where I could pump, but she suggested A) the staff bathroom (ick!) or B) the school clinic (ick!!) instead. So I’ve been pumping in my classroom during my planning periods. Now, I keep my door locked, and you would think that anyone who knocked on a locked door and got no answer would assume I was busy or not there and would just go away. How wrong you would be. No, met with no answer, students get a hall monitor or another teacher to let them in; other teachers or hall monitors just let themselves in. Many are the times I have had to rip the pump off my breasts with an audible “pop” and yank my shirt down as someone opens my door and walks in. Many. Not, of course, that I would ever complain about such a thing.


At 5:03 PM, Blogger Alysia said...

It's reasuring to know that if I ever wish to render my husband blind, I can just direct him to this blog.


At 9:36 PM, Blogger Neb said...

My husband said, "Um... someone should just tell her... they're probably never going to be the same again." ;-) Hopefully that doesn't sound too discouraging, and of course no one can say with certainty the future of your most lovely womanly form-

But look at it this way- The Girls are now *mature*, having taken part in that most noble of callings, one of the primary reasons for their very existence. Honor their hard work and sacrifices! Respect their newfound... um... shapeliness! Cherish your bosoms, Jordana- and they will cherish you.


At 5:27 PM, Anonymous Sarah said...

I can't believe that no one respects a locked door (especially letting students in when they think you aren't there!) Have you tried a note on the not enter...important conference or something?

At 11:24 PM, Blogger Papaya Mommy said...

I fear that when my productive years are over, my "num nums" will shrink into near-nothingness, with just a little sag and a few stretch marks to show there was anything there at all. Genetics (i.e. my mom's flat bosom) are against me.

It's horrible that your school can't find anyplace nice and private for you to pump. Good for you for persevering, and for not pumping in the bathroom - yuck! Did they expect you to sit on a toilet, or what? I usually don't mind people seeing me breastfeed, but there's just nothing beautiful or dignified about pumping - moooo!

At 11:33 PM, Blogger owlhaven said...

Sooo hard to relax when you think you may get walked in on any time. What a pain!

Mary, mom to many, who's pumped in many odd locations!


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