We have a new ceremonial tradition in our family...yesterday Kendall came strolling out of her bedroom and tossed me a couple of bras (to be specific, a white one and a pretty mint-green one)..."Here, these don't fit me anymore. You can have them."
Flashback about thirty-five years...I came strolling out of my bedroom and tossed my mom a couple of bras (most likely just white - they didn't make them in cool colors back then, at least not where I shopped!)...I told her, "Here, these don't fit me anymore. You can have them."
Ah, I remember my smugness, how proud I was that I needed a larger bra size than my mother! Are my boobs really smaller now because of breastfeeding three babies and (much more recently, losing twenty pounds?) I'm sure those played a role in the shrinkage, but I'm convinced now it's mostly just karma...pay-back for pride.
The sad thing is, I think I would appreciate a larger cup size now. Back then, I was more modest, more uncomfortable with drawing attention to that part of my body. I rarely wore halters or spaghetti straps in public - I couldn't go without a bra, and Lord, help me if my bra showed (again, no pretty colors...) However, I don't care enough to go under the knife, although I better understand now why some women do.
Breastfeeding - that's a whole different thing, but just as unfair when talking about size. I thought of my breasts much like the mother of a bottle fed baby thinks of the bottles. They were just milk-holders conveniently attached to my body and, sometimes inconveniently, ready to go...I bought breast pads by the case to deal with leakage. Hey, facts of life and motherhood...
What it boils down to is I never appreciated what I had till it went away. So right now I'll remember to appreciate the little - the VERY little - I have left, and be grateful my daughter has good taste in bras.