Two Breasts

How does one broach the topic of breasts?

Let’s be honest, for men, I just need to say BOOBS. Oh, see? There you are *grins*

For women, you say, “Breasts” and there is an entire spectrum of reactions. From proud as punch for the perfect set adorning one’s chest to disdainful groans and complaints that they are: Too big, too small, saggy, unshapely, squishy, firm…..

I have had the topic of breasts floating in the back of my mind for a while now.

Do I talk about them so publicly? Will I offend? Will I embarrass?

It’s finally gotten to the point where I actually don’t mind what the response is and that, what better time to shine a light on breasts than in the month of October: Breast Cancer Awareness Month.

I’ll be honest with you and admit to having a love/hate relationship with my girls – breasts that is. Not my children. Just to clarify.

I sometimes wish that they were detachable. An accessory that you could choose when and what size you wish to be on any given day. Another ‘perk’ I see of breasts being detachable? Don’t feel ‘in the mood’ when Mr HunBal does? *click* Here you go sweety. Knock yourself out. (Just don’t break them. Please.)

And then, like many women across the globe, that moment, in the evening when you realise it’s that time: the time of being officially permissible to “De-bra” and let those girls roam free! Ohhhhh, the utter relief of it all! Honestly, words almost cannot describe well enough that, “Ahhhh,” moment! …….and then you cross your fingers that no one randomly drops in. Side note: I probably do need to remember to not leave my bra on the couch. The minis love to poke fun at me in the morning for that.

So here’s the thing though – the thing that I’ve been umming and ahh-ing over whether to share so publicly because having breast surgery can make some feel uncomfortable, others judgemental and others, just simply curious.

So how did I, personally, get to that point of breast surgery? Well, it was on one of those de-braing occasions, as I wandered back to the lounge to ‘relax’ for the evening, I ran my hands down my sides and caught my breath. I was literally halted in my tracks as I ran my hands down the side of my breasts again, hoping I hadn’t actually felt anything. But I had. I was not mistaken. On the side of my left breast I felt a lump.

Before I could harness my thoughts, my brain was inundating me with so many extremes all at once that I almost lost myself. From catastrophizing, to sliding into logic, then to panic, then to fear. The night was absolutely exhausting.

Obviously I scrambled to to the doctors the following day. My Hunbal tribe is pretty blessed with our family Doctors (yes, we’ve kinda adopted two). He pushed me through to an ultrasound that same week, so whilst it wasn’t the funnerest week, I was very fortunate to not have to wait long.

Jump forward to the ultrasound where I had another mild anxious moment as, whilst the lovely lady was examining me, she asks, “Is this the lump you found?” Actually no. No. THAT lump was not the OTHER lump I found. Wait?! She found ANOTHER lump??

For the love of……!

Verdict: I was that broken post breast feeding two precious steak and chip babes that even the Radiologist on duty that day had a chuckle when he came in to do his final check. He changed from examining the side I’d discovered the lump on, to moving to the other side to compare.

“That one’s worse,” he said rather of matter of factly.

Yet, with a smile. Bless his humour.

So, it was that particular week that set me on the path to surgery. For various reasons, not just the brokenness, and in close consultation with my Doctor, we decided that, for various reasons, breast surgery was going to be the best course of action.

I’ll not lie. It did occur to me to go all Angelina Jolie. Get the saggy baggy mothers completely removed and simply buy new ones. Women get breast enlargements all the time right? So why not just create two perfect perky mounds from scratch? Instead of ‘buying off the plan of implants’ and/or working with what I currently had (or perhaps, didn’t have), create a clean canvas and get them architecturally designed, complete with drink cooler, phone holder and coin purse. It would also be rather handy to have the option of trying before buying. You could see how they look under a shirt and also test the damage that they may cause if one finds themselves trampolining…….”Black eyes? No?! SOLD!!”

So Sweet cheeks, I want you to know why I felt that it was the right time to share my Breast Journey with you now.

For the ladies in particular,  it is actually very important to talk about our breasts/boobs/funbags/saggybaggy elephants/girls, whatever fun name you have for them, and what’s more, it’s so important to check them regularly. Every month, at the same time (after your period so your ‘girls’ are not all hormonal when you go to check) Get to know your body so well that if anything ever changes, you’ll know straight away.

Still not sure? Get someone else to check them. Who better than your Love? You’re in this together remember and partners are fabulous for this as they probably know them better than you! *wink* I’m sure Mr HunBal won’t be uncomfortable with me sharing that he can turn the ‘playtime’ switch off long enough to assist in the checking. It’s just when his eyes glaze over and he hasn’t let go……that’s when I know I’ve lost him *chortle*

Then, if you think something has changed or you’re still not sure, please, do go see someone. You’re honestly not bothering anyone, nor over-reacting or being dramatic. Even if it’s for your own peace of mind, please go see your family/local GP.


Want to know more?

….and of course, you can visit your family/local GP


Much love,

Ju xx


***this blog post has not been endorsed by any of the organisations nor am I an affiliate to any of them. This post is simply coming from my heart***