My boobs are huge. I chose to write about this because Mike pointed that out to me and everyone else in his comment to my last post. As many of you know, my boobs were store bought. Those who didn't know, are you really that surprised? My mother didn't pass down the awesome gene of awesomely big boobies and so I looked anorexic and ill throughout my teens and early twenties. So I turned my excellent credit into crappy credit and financed some fun bags...my choice not his. Since then, I've been one of those that actually thought they were a tad bigger than what I had wanted. Most women go in and are ready to get new ones in a year or so because they're not quite big enough. Not me. I went from having a bad posture because I didn't want anyone to see my mosquito bites to having a bad posture because I didn't want to poke anyone's eye out.
So, now I'm pregnant. Hmmm. I wonder what I thought was going to happen there. Mind you, I had done a year's worth of research before going forward with the decision. In the research I learned that the implants would not effect milk production or nursing should I get pregnant. Well, after about three months in my pregnancy, my boobs got bigger. Then they got bigger. And even bigger after that. Oh, and guess what! THEY'RE STILL GROWING! I apologize to anyone in my family who might be reading this and are getting nasty embarrassment chills, and/or are barfing from the horror, but I like to share EVERYTHING. Just wait until the delivery when I break down every messy and stinky detail. Oooh, can't wait! Anyway, my boobs are freaking me out because I know they're not done expanding and, holy shit, the milk hasn't even come in yet. Oh boy, I'll be able to rest my chin on those pillows. The beauty of implants is you can go running and they hardly move. You can bend over to pick something up and they're not hitting you in the face. Now that there is some extra girth, they're all over the place. If I hunch over just right, they can sit on my new belly. New boobs, meet new belly, now lifelong friends. Luckily there is a bright side. The belly will go back to where she came from and the boobies should go back to where they were, too. Right? Right. These are real knockers. I seriously think I could hurt someone with them. Mind you, my husband couldn't be happier. He looks forward to the monthly change in my upper torso. Fun bags, he likes to call them. Or the twins. Well, I think I'm done writing about my ta-tas for now because I'm afraid the next time I see any of you, you'll be looking at my high beam headlights.
P.S. I have to admit, they are fun. Sorry.