Three months post-op

If you had told me a year ago that my pain would soon be over, I'd look at you like you were crazy.  Yet that thought occurred to me tonight when I drove by Bra Genie - the place that propelled my mom to see that I have a reduction.

Now three months later, I'm not ashamed of my chest. I don't have to cross my arms and have excess cleavage. I can sleep braless and know that I can run outside, and few would be able to tell the girls were free. I still have scars - I probably always will, but they're gradually becoming less visible. I have an unbelievable glow now. I can walk around happy, I'm not as irritable and my headaches have greatly decreased. I can hold my shoulders up. I can buy the cheap bras and know they'll do the trick. I had to get rid of a good bit of clothes. My friends have noticed a difference in me.

I would hands down go through this again. I go for my three-month-post-op Tuesday and cannot wait. My chest is growing less firm as the days go by, and week by week, my scars grow less pink. I'm still numb in some sections, but I'm far less concerned how they look under clothes than well supported. I no longer have to worry about dresses not zipping, back pain, headaches, never having a good dress on my wedding day, or empire-waist tops. I no longer have to buy swimsuits with bras built in, spend a ton of money on support or buy blouses two sizes too big.

Thinking about having it done? Do it. Don't have second thoughts.

I'm happier now than I could ever imagine.

Six Weeks Post-Op

Six weeks ago tomorrow, I had my reduction. For the first time ever, I bought two Victoria's Secret bras yesterday. The surgeon said I had to wait one month post-op before wearing wired bras. I had a knot come up that oozed puss, so I was put on antibiotics and had to wait for it to heal a little more before I felt like I could go to Victoria's Secret. I had always vowed to myself that I would buy a matching bra and panty set, so I ended up buying that yesterday as well. I measured a 36D there. The sales associates were absolutely wonderful with regards to helping me find the perfect bra and didn't try to sell me the most expensive one. They were also running their 7 for $26 panty sale, so for $83, I got two bras and panties.
I'm not going to lie - there was some pain with trying on the wires. My incisions are still a little swollen, and my left side is healing far better than the right. It is wonderful not to have the uniboob going on with regards to how the girls look in bras. I don't have to worry about feeling my chest right below my chin, and I can go braless without others being able to tell. I would hands down go through this again. I must admit that although I have the cute VS bras and have plans on returning to the store next month, I still adore my Genie Bras. They seriously are wonderful - especially since I'm at the point of recovery where the nipples are adjusting...and they ALWAYS nip.
Anyways, I'm able to lift a little more, and I begin graduate school this week. I already have the confidence back that I had lost so long ago when I felt all people saw me for were boobs. I feel like a changed woman.

Surgery/Recovery

Four days ago, I was under anesthesia, under the knife for the first time in my life. I left my house at 5:15 that morning on an intense adrenaline rush. I was eager to start a new chapter in my life and beyond ready to leave my large-chested days behind. My parents and I had prayer before leaving, praying that God would heal my body as well as guide the surgeon safely through the surgery. Once at the hospital, I was placed in Room 14, where I was told to take off everything except for a surgical gown. We had arrived around 6:30, and I was scheduled to go back at 9. The nurse came in and scrubbed my chest before the anesthesiologist started my IV and increasing the medicine. The surgeon marked me and asked what size I wanted to be before giving me a final few minutes with my mom. Squeezing my hand until I was out of reach, my mom fought tears as she told me she loved me while I was being wheeled away from her. This was at 8:45, earlier than we had ever imagined.

I remember them asking me questions about what I want to do. I was knocked out once the oxygen was applied. Once I woke up, my shoulders and neck felt the immediate relief. I was feeling fine, and I was released around 2:00 from the hospital. I drank some Diet Coke and Sprite and nibbled on some crackers. They wheeled me out to my mom's car, and I had a pillow between my chest and the seatbelt to ease the pain of bumps on the drive home. I immediately went to sleep and felt incredible. Little did we know that the Percocet is what made me sick and nauseous. I was changed over to Loritab.

The recovery has been worse than I could imagine. I've been constipated off and on, had meltdowns, ran a fever one night, nearly blacked out my first shower, have been unable to vomit and cannot do much without being exhausted. I rode around yesterday but did not get out of the car. Other people were fine a few days post-surgery, but I believe it has a lot to do with the amount removed. I had five pounds/half of my tissue taken out of me. Others go down a few sizes - I went from an H to a C. I'm loving my chest and being able to sit up right, but the nausea and illness affiliated has been all but glamorous.

One More Day

This time tomorrow, I will be at the hospital waiting to be released, headed home or already home. To say I am ready is an understatement. My neck and back have had excruciating pain today. I got the last of my clothes for school packed, ironing and laundry done, my room spotless (including steamed carpets), bedding changed and started bathing with the surgical scrub I had to buy at the hospital. I'm going to Outback with my parents tonight for my "final meal," and my mom and I are doing some last-minute shopping to buy slippers and whatever else I'll need. I'm watching the Olympics right now, knowing that today is the last day I have to wear big, bulky bras and the last night for a few weeks I can sleep braless.

I currently have a headache and am exhausted, but I knew I should probably write a final blog while I still have a large rack and back/neck pain. I will try to post a new blog next week that gives all of the details. Thanks again for reading my posts and keeping up as the days count down to the big day!

Pre-Op

I went Tuesday (July 24) for my pre-op. Basically, you sign your life away. We first went to the doctor office and talked with a nurse who went over everything. They have you read over the procedure and steps before initialing the bottom of every page, stating you understand what they're telling you in fine print. Once finished with that, I alerted the woman at the front desk, and they took us back to the nurse. Once we were cleared there, my mom and I were sent to the hospital to follow further instructions. They took blood-work, informed me of what I can and can't do before and gave me a booklet full of everything. The surgeon prescribed my pills for nausea and pain, and my mom already got them filled.

Here are some things you might not know:
-You can't take anything with pseudophedrine or aspirin in it two weeks prior to surgery (if you have, it must stop after the pre-op)
-You have to list every single medicine that has even entered your body recently. They mean everything.
-Watch your caffeine intake beforehand
-You cannot wear deodorant the morning of or wear hairspray (the nurse said mousse and gel for my curls was fine - I didn't want a massive fro!)
-The last time you can shave under your arms for awhile is the night before - not the day of
-Try to break your caffeine habit beforehand - you can't have coffee the morning of the surgery
-You can't wear bras with wires for a month. I racked up on some genie bras and have plans on buying some sports bras.
-Invest in some really good button-ups and make sure your dresses zip-up

Because I'm starting graduate school this fall (I graduated from college in May), I have already packed away majority of my clothes for next summer or this upcoming year, as well as started to clean my room to the max. I won't be able to lift boxes up the stairs during move-in (thank God for parents), but I'll at least be able to take the light stuff out - and I won't be bringing as much up there with me!

It will be a few days after the surgery when I post the gory details. The nurse told me I won't be all there for three days, and I have to wait five days before driving. I'm wearing yoga pants and a button-up pajama top (the kind that were popular two years ago) to the surgery.

Beyond that, I'm just ready for Wednesday! I'll blog the surgery when I get a chance (and when I'm not doped up on painkillers).

God bless!

Approval

When my mom got home today, she announced that I had mail from the insurance company. Frantically opening it, I could barely speak the words in front of me: your request for a reduction mammoplasty has been approved and meets the requirements of a medical necessity. With tears in my eyes, I looked at my mom and smiled. It's finally coming together. In 23 days, my time of having severe neck pain will end. While helping prepare the table for dinner tonight, I had to adjust my bra straps on my shoulders about three times in order to ease the pain. I even asked my mom to rub my neck so she could ease the shooting pain traveling through my neck. It's as if my symptoms are getting worse now that I've been approved. After cleaning up the kitchen, I went to my room and propped myself up on some pillows on my bed. I'm sitting here now, leaning upon pillows, struggling to find comfort. The letter of approval was just what I needed to assure me that better days lie ahead.

Consultation

I remember May 26 like yesterday. My mom came home from work around lunch, and we took my car an hour away to the doctor's office. We plugged the address in the GPS and hit the road. I was scared, praying that this would go through. What if the doctor says I'm just fine? What if I'm being overly dramatic and should be worried about the starving kids in Africa rather than my chest? What if the insurance company doesn't approve? What if he's disgusted by how they look and refuses to operate? Such thoughts flooded my mind as we pulled up in the parking lot. My mom prayed on the way that things would go God's way with this, and if I didn't need the surgery, that we would know. As I sat in the waiting room, I noticed the amount of busty women in there. Good, they have the same struggles as me, I thought, as my name was called.
The nurse had me undress from the waist up and wear a super comfy robe. My mom came in the room, as I filled out a questionnaire. Such questions included bra size, an inquiry about weight loss and if you suffer from pains, headaches and rashes. My eyes watered up as I answered the questions, feeling like there were others out there who can relate. As the doctor walked in, I felt as if he had followed me around all throughout my teen years, as he rambled, "Let me guess, you hate going shopping and out for long periods of time because you have severe back pain. Your neck hurts at the end of the day, and your shoulders slump. Your parents have tried to correct your posture, but it's no use. You lose weight, and your breasts still sag. All of your friends can buy the cute, cheap bras, and you have to special order them. You feel as if no one can relate to you, and all men do is stare at your chest. You're ready to have clothes that fit. At the end of the day, you long to take your bra off and dread when people come to the door, because you have to put it back on. Swimsuits are a nightmare. You hate hugging people. You feel as if no one understands you, and you hate running. No, I haven't been following you around, but these are the stories I hear on a daily basis."
I nearly cried as I looked up at him and shook my head. Finally, someone heard my cry. I no longer felt alone, but instead, I had a surge of hope go through. I opened up about my past, how I cried myself to sleep some nights and felt like when I crossed my arms not wearing a bra, it was obvious. The surgeon took a look at my breasts and remarked how they droop like a woman in her 60s would. Wow, I thought, this definitely needs to happen. We scheduled the appointment for Aug. 1, took pictures for insurance and pulled documentation from my gynecologist visits, stating that I informed my doctor of constant back pain and headaches from oversized breasts. I told him I want to be a full C, not a D, and that I want them lifted and looking good. He assured all could happen and said he would see me at my consultation, which is scheduled for July 24.

Background Story

I can remember how fascinated I was with having a large chest since I was a small girl. I used to pray every night that I would have boobs. After all, that's what every little girl wants, right? I have yet to meet a young girl who isn't dying to wear a bra or have mountains coming from her chest. I didn't want anything overflowing, but I wanted something to make me happy. When I was in fourth grade, my mom first bought me a bra. I remember that Labor Day when she took me into her room and showed me the sports bra. It felt like I finally had to cover something up. Within two weeks from that, I had to start wearing training bras, and from then on, they grew.

I was averaging a cup size per year all throughout puberty. My list goes as follows: 4th grade - AA, 5th grade - A, 6th grade - B, 7th grade - C, 8th grade - D, 9th grade - DD, 10th-12th grades - DDD, freshman-junior years of college - G, senior year - H. By the time I was 14, I was tired of having a chest. A steady D, I remember crying in the dressing room at Dillard's when my mom had to buy me a reduction bra. I was tired of the girls in PE being fascinated with my growing chest. Boobs were no longer fun to me. I never struggled with wanting "a little more to fill me out." Instead, I wanted them off. High school didn't help, either. While we changed for PE, most of the girls were in their cute Victoria's Secret bras, barely filling out the B cups. Me? I was wearing a DD-DDD granny looking bra from Dillard's that cost more than anyone should pay for such little fabric.

It continued to go downhill from there. My posture crumbled, constantly weighed down by the bowling balls strapped to my chest. My mom constantly would say, "Sarah, if you would sit up, it would make you look 10 pounds lighter." The more I tried to sit up, the more it hurt. I lasted all of 30 seconds before slumping back. I felt like anytime I did anything, people were staring at my chest and not me. I had to grab guys' faces and tell them that I'm "up here" and not six inches below my chin. I felt like I was looked at more like a piece of meat more than anything. I appear confident and thick-skinned on the outside, but internally, I was different. I cried myself to sleep many nights, wanting a reduction. My mom told me if I lost weight, my chest would go down.

Here's another thing - I have hypothyroidism. In 8th grade, I worked out daily and gained 80 pounds. We didn't know what was wrong. By 9th grade, I was referred to an endocrinologist and was diagnosed with hypothyroidism. Although my weight steadied, the chest grew larger. I felt like all boys looked at was my chest, furthering my belief as to why I didn't have boyfriends in high school. When it came time to buy dresses for dances and proms (we could attend all four years), I struggled finding one my size. I had to go up a dress size or two just to have it fit. Frustrated in the fitting room, I found myself stressing and crying that designers just did not understand chesty girls. I always had a time finding a good strapless bra - especially one that offered support. When I was a cheerleader in 10th grade, the girls and I joked that my chest could support a girl in a stunt - it was true. My final year of high school, my parents said if I lost 25 pounds and kept it off 6 months, they'd schedule me a reduction. This seemed impossible for me, and in some ways, I consider it abuse. Knowing my struggles with confidence and physical pain and not having anything done was wrong in my book. Mark my words if my daughter has a large chest, I will see to it that she gets something done by the time she's going to college (if she wants). No one should have to live this long with such pain and agony over something that can be surgically removed.

When I went to college, I grew even more conscious of my rack. I found that unless it was a turtleneck, cleavage showed. Buying swimsuits was a pain, and I noticed my bosoms were starting to sag. At the age of 19 and early 20s, no woman should have the chest of a woman who nursed five kids, but alas, that was mine. I felt like I could never hug people closely or enjoy the exercise classes I went to, mainly because when I looked in the mirror at myself, all I saw were boobs and my face. Nothing else. I felt like they were punching bags for my knees, hindering me to go full-force in spin. While doing Zumba, I thought certain dance moves would give me a black eye. Forget running - that was for girls without a chest to weigh them down. I noticed the pain getting greater and headaches growing more frequent. I couldn't talk to guys without seeing them glance down at my chest mid-conversation. I felt like if they could somehow come off, they a guy would see me for me.

I graduated college this past May and had every intention of going into the real world. My parents told me that if I did opt for grad school, they would pay now. If I went later, they wouldn't. As my senior year came to a close, I decided in January to apply to grad school the same university where I earned my bachelor's. Once accepted, my mom came to a final conclusion for me to have a reduction: lose 10 pounds by graduation, and I could get the girls cut off. I'll note that while I have curves, I carry most of my weight in my chest. I tried running this past spring and got runner's knee from being top-heavy. I had to stop altogether and fear working out a lot. I wear a size 14 in clothes and have to buy blouses in an XL for my chest. I'm not huge, but I'm not little. I'm happy with my size, but I wouldn't mind losing a few pounds. I'm hoping this surgery does motivate me to hit the gym more and to tone up (once I get cleared).

When I came home for the summer, I immediately called the doctor's office to schedule a consultation. I felt an instant sense of relief when I was set to go in May 26. The next blog is the fill-in from the consultation. I will note that I'll be quite graphic and brutally honest in this blog, but I'm only doing it because honesty is what I'm looking for when I Google "breast reduction blogs."

After the surgery, I'll update here and there on how it's affecting me. My hope is that I'll touch the millions of women out there who struggle with the same thing I do. Those women who wake up in the middle of the night with back pain; those who have to lift their breasts one at a time to get comfortable when they roll over on their stomachs; those who can't go shopping for more than a few hours without having severe neck and back pain.