Sunday, December 02, 2007

Bolstering from an unusual source...

I went to Victoria's Secret to buy a bra today. I recognize that is a mistake, as they only recently began carrying bras in my non-nursing size, much less my nursing size. However, I was hopeful I could find a pretty, comfy bra to lift my bosom, and my ego along with it. I have been wearing serviceable, yet unappealing nursing bras for eight months now, and I would dearly love a little pizazz to strap into in the morning.

I went down and picked out their largest bra, took it to a model, sorry, "salesperson", and into a changing room I went.

As I disrobed in the brutally honest light of the changing room mere steps from the incredibly thin, curvy, and made up Victoria's Secret staff, I stared at my saggy, pouchy belly, and my huge pendulous breasts, took a deep breath, and tried on the bra. It almost fit.

Almost.

I gazed at my four breasted reflection, and began to feel extra large. I swear, I could see my thighs and belly grow before my eyes. For one horrible moment, I wondered if I would ever again wear clothes close to my original size. I closed my eyes to block out the incoming tears, and suddenly got an ego boost from an unexpected source.

My baby.

All week Otter has been pulling away mid-nurse to look at my breasts, pat them, and smile at me. I have been interpreting it as a compliment to the chef, because the behavior is very deliberate on his part. He simply seems delighted with the source of his milk supply.

So as I sadly closed my eyes in that unforgiving dressing room, the image of his giant blue sparkly eyes smiling at me, complimenting the breasts that couldn't fit into the sexy bra, leapt into my mind. Suddenly, I felt beautiful. I understood in that moment that my breasts are being fully appreciated for all they are, and all they can do. It doesn't matter that they wander around in a drab nursing bra all day, they are amazing. It may be the most beautiful I have ever felt.

I walked out of the dressing room a very happy woman. I didn't even glance at all the bras that won't fit me, or sigh over the women I used to resemble. I just walked back out into the mall, and into the bosom of my family, where a certain young connoisseur waited in his stroller.

3 comments:

Woman with a Hatchet said...

Excellent and terribly sweet.

Catherine said...

Take thee to a Nordstrom! Someone old enough to be your grandmother will fondle you and then wrangle the girls into an appropriate brassiere. I fell in love with a Wacoal bra. Pricey? Yes. Totally took the girls out of their bad neighborhood, hanging with the knees, and put them back uptown, between the shoulders.

Scylla said...

That is awesome. Maybe I can hit the Nordstrom when I am in town this season!

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