Tag Archives: nursing

The First Consultation Appointment – Pt. 2


So, we went into the examination room, still tasteful and completely boob-less in décor, and waited for the doctor.  My stupid phone rang again but, this time, I ignored it.  Not going to fall for that one again, iPhone.  I wanted to be mentally prepared for her when she came in.  So, I started trying to organize my thoughts.  Virginia wanted to throw her gum away and we joked about what she might see in the ‘Biohazard’ bin in the room with us.   She screwed up her courage, lifted the lid and tossed in her wad of gum.  Of course, we saw no used saline bags or spare nipples (sorry to my friend who can’t stand the sound of that word).  Too bad though.  That would’ve been a cool addition to this story, wouldn’t it?

It wasn’t long until the doctor came in.  She was very down to earth and Virginia and I both felt immediately at ease with her.  Score for the introductory appointment! The first thing she did was have the two of us switch places so I’d be across from her for the consultation.  I can’t imagine how she was able to determine so quickly that the patient was me and not my ‘gifted’ friend, Virginia. (Um, yes, I’m totally being sarcastic.  You don’t really know me that well yet so I thought I’d clue you in.)

The doctor interviewed me first.  I think that’s standard protocol, or at least it should be so they can get to know you and therefore know what best suits you boob-wise.  She listened to me explain that I was a 42-year-old mom of two who nursed nearly four years between the two of my children.  She laughed and said that, with most moms nursing an average of six months per child, it’s like I’ve nursed eight kids.  Damn.  Kate Gosselin I am not.  But maybe my boobs are.

And just as we were laughing and feeling very comfortable about the whole thing, she called for my top to come off. (My brain was racing. She had complimented it when she first came in.  Maybe she just wanted to try it on.  Geez … wake up, Michele!)  The moment of truth was here.  I think I actually looked at Virginia at that point and apologized. She offered to leave but I said no.  I’m supposed to be public here.  I mean … not webcam-for-the-blog public … but public in the sense that I wanted other opinions.  I wanted another set of ears hearing everything from the doctor.  Helping me remember everything. And digest everything, for that matter.

With me now topless, we started to get into the nitty gritty of it all.  She measured me to determine where my nipples fell (Again, sorry to my nipple-fearing friend.  You might just need to skip this chapter) and get the whole lay of the land, if you will.  The long and the short of it is that my breasts weren’t the worst things she’s ever seen.  And my nipples weren’t ridiculously low or anything like that. We then proceeded to discuss a worst case scenario or two that made me feel a little better about myself.

So, after seeing my ‘presentation’ and getting to know me a bit, she said she would recommend a lift for me personally.  She explained that, by grabbing everything that had spread out (and down) over the years and clustering it up back together in a higher place on my chest, I was likely to get exactly what I was looking for in boob-wear. My nipples would also be moved up and slightly reduced in size. (FYI to nursing mothers, this procedure does not impede your ability to breastfeed in the future. No nerves or anything else are cut here.) My breasts, now higher and more compact, would in fact appear larger.  She added that, if at a later date I decided I wanted a more substantial size, I could always go back there and slip a pair of implants into the higher, fully healed breasts.

I cannot stress enough how much she encouraged having these two procedures (the lift and the implants) done separately for the sake of healing and minimal scarring. She explained that the incisions made from the lift (described as anchor scars) would be nominal if you don’t overfill the breast at the same time with an implant.  They would only serve to push out against the healing incisions and thus create a more visible scar. And I saw several before and after pictures testifying to this fact.  She further added, as it’s the first place many of us go in our minds, that her costs for doing the two surgeries individually or together are nearly the exact same (as she gives discounts to repeat clients) … but she said many of her patients are so satisfied with the lift that they don’t always return for the additional implant surgery.

We talked a little about implants as well and she said she preferred saline to silicone. I mentioned that I’ve heard silicone seems to be coming back into vogue now but, after so many years of being removed from the market due links to cancer and other health issues, I had no interest in being a guinea pig for the new and improved version. Especially since they’ve only been made available again as an option for the last few years. She agreed.

She also said the exact same thing that I have heard from woman after woman with whom I’ve spoken about this project.

“Don’t go too big!

She said that, particularly on a smaller person like myself, oversized breasts will actually create a look of added weight overall on a woman’s frame.  Yeah, not really what I’m looking for here at all. I already enjoy cheese enough that I don’t need my boobs helping to make me look fat.

So, armed with more knowledge than I knew what to do with … and scared shitless that I needed to go through this process three or four more times …. I left the office with Virginia.  But not before telling the doctor about my online journal.  She loved the idea and its name and encouraged me to come back to visit again if I had more questions or needed explanations about anything.  I’m a big fan of this doctor so far. Of course, I’m not sure what I’m going to decide in the end … but she was a very good place to begin.

My next consultation appointment is Tuesday, September 20.  And I feel like I need to start getting organized already!

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Convincing Myself


I grew up in the 80s at a time when cosmetic surgery was really coming into its own.  And I can still remember seeing these early efforts on the handful of face-lifted ladies at our church with stretched out, Bruce Jenner-esqued features as well as on the ridiculously pointy noses of younger WASPy girls from families with way too much money.  And, even though the result was a little alien back then, I can still remember being oddly intrigued by the ability of these women to “correct” what they perceived as their shortcomings through modern medicine.

Girls talk about this kind of stuff.  All girls. “If you could fix one part of your body with plastic surgery, what would you do?”  Everyone has an answer to this question. My nose … my eyes … my stomach … my butt … and, the popular favorite … my boobs.  Whatever.  Never say never, right?

And now, having had two children, both of whom nursed like Dyson vacuum systems, my answer reverberates in my head – my breasts.  They’ve never been huge.  But, at one time,  they were at least what I would have called “inflated” … as well as situated correctly on my chest.  Pregnancy and nursing changes all of that.  And I nursed hippie-style, racking up almost four cumulative years between my two kids.  They say breast is best, right? No regrets there.  But my boobs sure look like crap as a result of my valiant efforts.

So I started thinking about it.  And checking myself out in front of the mirror, lifting things up to where they used to be.  To where they’re supposed to be.  And imagining.  And daydreaming.  Which I did.  A lot.  And then I started hearing about all of my girlfriends over the years who were taking the plunge.  They all looked great.  They were filling out their shirts again.  And buying halters, off-the-shoulders and other little strapless numbers that I can only dream of filling out. So … what was stopping me?

Fear of the procedure itself? Guilt of spending the money? Embarrassment of my vanity?  Well … yes, yes and yes! But it wouldn’t hurt just to look into it, right?  Get some questions answered so I can make an informed decision. And maybe help a few curious others along the way.  So, I’m starting the research now. But I’m still pretty freaked out.  So I figured that going way public about the whole thing would help.  And I started turning to a few friends.

The first two women I talked with seriously about it were two of my oldest friends. One has had augmentation and the other has two of the most naturally huge boobs I’ve ever seen in my life.  I was having drinks with the first on one occasion and lunching with the second on another.  Both conversations eventually turned to boobs (as they all do, right?) and both conversations ended up with me dragging my drinks/lunch date into the public bathroom, locking the door behind us and exposing my “girls.”  (A pretty brave deed considering a popular area restaurant was recently cited for secretly installing web cameras in their women’s bathrooms. But I digress.)

Both of my friends were even more receptive to my talk of breast augmentation once they saw what I had to offer.  Actually, they both said exactly the same thing … that I was precisely the kind of person for whom this surgery was intended.

I felt vindicated and humbled at the same time.

I buttoned up, left the bathroom and made my decision to begin looking into the whole thing. Both times.  I think I’m as excited about the possibility of a change as I am about writing all about it. I’ll be augmenting two parts of me really.  And there’s nothing I won’t discuss about it.  Promise. 🙂

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