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My Breast Friends: BRAvellous!

Funny isn’t it how boobs have a life of their own, how they take on various guises. First they don’t exist and then over night WHAM!, there they are, perched like little bee stings ready to swell. If you’re really lucky they’ll develop quite quickly into a nice round, perfectly formed breast. Mine? Not like that at all. I had to put up with the bee sting – for quite some time.

I remember someone telling me my boobs were like fried eggs, flat with a big circle in the middle! That wasnt going to give me a complex was it?! I dreamed of big boobs. I wanted to have to massive melons that spilled over and gave me four boob syndrome! I’d have loved that! I wanted them to bounce when I ran down the stairs – but they never did, they just stayed still.

I don’t know how old I was when I developed a lovely bunch of coconuts but I was well into my twenties. And let me tell you, wherever there was a stair, I ran down it! Correction: I “jumped” down it!

BRAvellous!! I’ve got knockers, bazooka’s, melons! At last I’ve got a cleavage. I used to flat share with a girl who carried her mobile phone under her boob! I kid you not, it was about ten years ago – imagine how big the phone was! Imagine how big her boobs where! Bigger than my head probably! But still, I was envious. I was lucky if I could hold a pencil under mine.

In hindsight I was blessed to have had an average sized pert bosom. I didn’t need to wear a bra but of course I did. The first thing I did when I got home from school and later, even now when I get home the “W” place, was to take my bra off. One strap through one sleeve, the other strap through the other sleeve, clip open the back and pull – BRAvellous, its off!

Thats another thing, the taking off of bra’s. Some men can, some men think they can but a lot of men really really can’t. Stop trying. Give up. Fiddling with a bra strap ruins the moment, dont men understand that? Theyre probably disappointed when it comes off anyway. The scaffolding that plumped them and held them up, perfectly centred, nipples forward, suddenly gave way like a Tsunami and cockaspaniels ears come flapping down to the knees. Men, unless you want a surprise, leave the bra strap alone.

And then there’s breastfeeding. Boobs really are BRAvellous aren’t they?! To be able to produce milk on demand like that is something that I wasnt prepared for. It’s actually shocking to me how the boobs have such an important job, to feed a child! they are no longer an object of desire, for a while at least, but an udder.  They are ‘udderly’ BRAvellous!

So my once perfectly rounded and pert lady lumps are now oval-shaped, oblonged, dog ears not that dissimilar to an Amazonian woman.

They are important, BOOBS. They are needed, BOOBS. They are indeed a luxury, BOOBS.

I cannot imagine how it must be one day to find out that you might lose one or both of them. That they might take you with them when they go! I mean, how bloody selfish is that!

Breast Cancer is a wicked, evil disease that lays there like a ticking time bomb. BOOM! there you have it – a tumour. And the boobs that you’ve nurtured and caressed all your life, plumped up, put on show for all to see, suddenly become your enemy. Cut it off damn it!! I don’t want it anymore.. get rid! And we’ve come full circle. When you would actually prefer to be flat chested if only that tumour would sod off! Come back bee sting, all is forgiven!

You see it really is BRAvellous that we can shout about this. That we can raise awareness. That we can donate a bra. I mean, I have no idea how many bra’s I have in my draw that don’t fit and that aren’t appropriate nowadays. I don’t remember the last time I wore a push up or an underwire. These days I’d need a full on reconstructed Madonna-esq pointed cone just to stop the spread from falling out the sides.

I admit it.  My melons are confined to the comfort of their M&S maternity hammock and that’s were they will rest until further notice!

In the meantime, I wont be needing this so off it goes to Bra Chain:

To end this little ditty (I said Ditty!) I would like to pay homage to my bee stings – you really have been a joy! We’ve had some ups and some downs (mainly downs these days), we’ve been through great times and some rough times, been admired, been ignored but most of all, been loved. Boobies, you really are my breast friends. You’re flipping BRAvellous actually!

This is probably the nicest my bra’s have looked in ages – all dressed up with eyeshadow and pearls!

Related Links:

Dirty Laundry

Breakthrough Breast Cancer

Related Articles:

My Boobs are BRAvellous

Mother Knows Breast #1

Mother Knows Breast #2

Mother Knows Breast #3

The C Word

X-O-X

 
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Posted by on May 18, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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My Boobs are BRAvellous!

Lately, I have been getting slightly involved in charity work. Which, I must confess, was never my intention when I started blogging. It hadn’t even occurred to me to be honest with you. Yet, my little blog has taken another angle. I’m still the Italian’s wife, I’m still Bambina’s mamma but I’ve found a little something that gives me a fire in the belly. For this reason, I am planning to self-host my blog so that I can dedicate a whole section of “La Mia Bella Vita” to things that I as a person, not a wife, not a mother, like and that includes my little charity endeavours. Watch this space.

I have thoroughly enjoyed being involved in the Blog it for Babies, Save the children, campaign. I have absolutely adored being a co-founder of the Blogging4Madeleine campaign with the very talented A Mummys View.

And I am already, so so so so excited about my new little venture, in support of Dirty Laundry and Breakthrough Breast Cancer.  Dirty Laundry is the brainchild of Sharon Holland Taylor. It’s a stage production covering one woman’s effort to strive for a fulfilled future after recovering from breast cancer. Along the way, she receives support from an unexpected source.  Check out the Dirty Laundry link above for more details.

Breakthrough Breast Cancer are attempting a Guinness Book world record for the longest chain of bra’s.  Each bra representing a donation from a woman who gives a toss about her knockers!

And so, without further ado, Ladies and Gentlemen, I bring to you BRAvellous!!

You might want to know why I’m a bit obsessed with my melons.  I’ll tell you.  My gran died of cancer.  A few years ago my aunt had a mastectomy.  Last year, the day before my wedding whilst we were all sitting at lunch, my mother-in-law answered a call from the doctor who rang to confirm that she had a 5cm tumour in her right breast.  What was worse, as if it could get worse, was that her mother, my husbands 90-year-old grandmother, was already fighting breast cancer.

After living through the chemo, the radiotherapy, the steroids, the hair loss, the wigs (that was actually quite amusing!), I know first hand how it feels to live with the fear.  The fear that the treatment won’t work, the fear that the cancer will win, the fear that my daughter who was then in my belly would never meet her Nonna or great-Nonna.  It fills me with sheer delight to report that both women won! They fought hard and stomped all over that disease and lived to tell the tale.

To support Breakthrough Breast Cancer, I would love for you to join in my linky and write a post about what your boobies mean to you!  And this doesn’t have to be just from a woman’s point of view! Men, Dad’s, write a post of about your wife’s boobs, have they changed over the years, what was your involvement in the breastfeeding routines etc etc – boobs are for everyone, right?

There’s something else. I need your bra’s!!  Yep, YOUR bra!.  A new one, an old one, a used one (you know, the ones that have gone a bit grey in the wash that you stuff to the back of the draw as a last chance saloon, yeah, that one).  Any bra.  I’ve not yet figured out the best way to get the bra’s from you but bear with me…details to follow.  Your bra will then be a very important link in a very important world record chain to break breast cancer!

In your post, it would be great if you could:

♥ Link back to Dirty Laundry and Breakthrough Breast Cancer (and Tea&Biscotti if you’re feeling generous!)

♥ Tell us what your boobs mean to you

♥ Tell us about your bra’s: with bra? without bra? big bra? small bra? matching bra? not matching bra? You get the picture!

♥ You could even take a picture of the bra you are going to donate!

♥ And finally, make sure you upload it to the linky so that everyone can get familiar with your coconuts!

♥ Feel free to use (copy) the very bad example of a badge that I made (above) – (sorry, it was a very shoddy effort)

Admit it, fewer things in life feel better than taking your bra off at the end of a long day!

You heard it here first… BRAVellous….coming soon to a blog near you!

X-O-X

Related Articles:

Mother Knows Breast #1

Mother Knows Breast #2

Mother Knows Breast #3

The C Word

*Picture credits to www.victoriasecrets.com via Pinterest.

 
16 Comments

Posted by on May 7, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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Mother Knows Breast #4

Mother Knows Breast #1

Mother Knows Breast #2

Mother Knows Breast #3

I need help. HELP is what I need.

It’s not a secret that Bambina is lactose intolerant (allergic to cows milk protein) and this is not assisting me, so far, in the quest to end my duties as milk machine.  I have loved breast-feeding, really really loved it but the time has come to turn the page and close the chapter.

Bambina is now ten months old. At six months I tried her with SMA in a bottle. The bottle, surprisingly, wasnt an issue. She seemed to find it quite intriguing. The milk however was a huge issue. She drank it willingly after experimenting a few times but then I noticed she had red blotches around her mouth. Her skin had flared but she seemed otherwise content. It looked like little strawberry mark dots rather than a rash. Whilst watching to see if she would drink the milk I noticed the dots were from the teat having touched the skin. How odd. After a while the redness went away so I thought nothing further of it. Until, after about one hour, she was violently sick.

I thought it might have been a reaction to that particular brand so waited a few days and then tried her with another, then another and then another. Aptamil, HIPP Organic, SMA, nothing worked and all had the same reaction.  As she was eating yogurt and cheese without a reaction I knew it wasn’t a diary issue. So, after several visits to the GP (who was as much use as a mans nipple!) I took the plunge and booked her in with a pediatrician at a local private hospital.

The doctor there told me that this is very common and is something that she will hopefully grow out of once past the age of one. He prescribed lactose and soya free formula and suggested I give it to her three times a day.

After another visit to the pediatrician, I begged and pleaded for help and his (yes, it was a man!) help and the only option left was to try her with full fat Soya milk and “she how she gets on and come back if there are any issues”.

Are you kidding me?? Any issues??  Of course there are issues:  my child is sucking the living daylights out of my breasts, I’m udderly exhausted because im STILL not getting any sleep, she now even knows how to pull my top up (and down) which causes no end of embarrassment when out of the house!  Issues? If Bambina continues like this, I’ll have no boobs left. I’ll end up wearing one of these scarves for the rest of my life!!

Previously I had heard and read so many stories about weaning off the breast and what you should do with the milk:

♥ For the first week, mix three-quarters of a bottle of expressed milk with one-quarter formula – decreasing the breast milk by a little each day until only formula is being used

♥ For the first week, continue to breast feed but introduce formula by mixing with breakfast cereal so that the baby gets used to the taste before attempting a whole bottle

♥ Deprive the baby of any drink, other than formula – she’ll drink it when she’s thirsty (and of course because there is nothing else..)

I tried the first which seemed more sensible. She turned her nose up, every time. I don’t really blame her as the prescription milk stinks! I tried the second but again she wasn’t fooled and simply turned her head and pushed the bowl away. The third wasnt an option. I wasn’t going to force my baby into dehydration!!

I’m at a loss. I’ve tried everything.  I’ve been consistent, same time, same place, same amount. It has been such a pleasurable experience to breast feed my child but the ending is such an anti climax.

I want my boobs back!!  I want to wear an uplift (because I need one!!) underwired bra!! I do not want to wear a boobie scarf!!

To anyone who is reading my plea, if you have experienced the same or similar mums milk/ cows milk / soya milk issues, I beg you to tell me how you survived the transition and came out the other with both boobs still intact.

Please do leave me a comment.  I’m failing at this miserably.

God Save the Boob!!

x-o-x

*Picture thanks to http://www.instructables.com/

 
4 Comments

Posted by on April 16, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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Mother Knows Breast #1

Newsweek.  The Syrians are slaughtering each other, Berlusconi was let off for bribing a British lawyer and Facebook is slammed by the Guardian for not allowing women to get their tits out.

I plan to have a not so little rant about this over two posts.  This is #1.

When Facebook policies were leaked this week, it was revealed that they had taken down someone’s breastfeeding photo due to an escaping nipple.  Apparently this complied with said policy as any ”breastfeeding photos showing other nudity, or nipple clearly exposed” will be removed.  The Guardian were quick to request any breastfeeding mummies to quickly upload their boobies to Facebook in a quest to see how many pics would be removed.

The Facebook group, “Hey! Breastfeeding is not Obscene” was created in the quake of the policy leak resulting in Facebook this week removing 257, 000 supporters from its site, permanently.  Scandalous!

Photos of women breastfeeding, with or without nipple, are not allowed.  Photos of women dressed in scantily clad blouses showing a humongous cleavage, are allowed.  Photos of women showing their surgically enhanced knockers in tiny bikinis are allowed.  Photos of people snogging the faces off each other, tongue sandwich stylie, are allowed. Photos of mens nipples are allowed.  There is nothing sexually provocative about a lactating boob.  We breastfeeding women are not sitting in public places gently and lovingly caressing ourselves for the world to see, we are simply feeding our young.

In August 2008: One hundred women packed an H&M store in Vancouver in support of a local mother who had been asked to breastfeed inside a changing room.  Degrading!

In December 2011: Local women in Brighton protested in support of a breastfeeding mother being asked to cover up with a towel whilst breastfeeding her child in a high street cafe,  “sure, I’ll just get my towel out of my handbag because I always carry one with me just in case this happens!”

In February 2012: I was asked if I wanted somewhere more discreet to breastfeed my daughter whilst at an appointment in a local private hospital.  I was sat in the corridor outside my Doctors office at the time.  I say I was “asked”, what I mean is gently persuaded by beady eyes perched over spectacles nodding toward a room at the end of the corridor. I refused and told the old interfering biddy ”thanks, but I’m fine where I am, I’m used to this”.  My husband pointed out that it was odd of her to have considered asking given we were in a pediatric ward where mothers must get their milk machines out all the time.

It’s a sensitive debate, the whole breastfeeding thing.  Some mothers want to, some mothers don’t and some mothers can’t.  Yet, from that very first midwife meeting, expectant mothers are provided with every pamphlet on offer to push forward reasons why breast is best.  It’s not surprising given that according to UNICEF’s State of the World’s Children Report 2011, 136.7 million babies are born worldwide and only 32.6 % of them are breastfed exclusively in the first six months.  I understand the cause. I appreciate the cause.  However, I think the choice is extremely personal and women should not be judged whatever way they sway.

The first time I met my Italian sister-in-law, I was introduced to her mammary glands via several photos of her breastfeeding her daughter.  I had never been exposed to such boob friendly openness before.  She flicked the page and their it was, a massive brown nipple – I didn’t know where to put my face.  Italian women embrace the boob, they thrive on the goodness for the child.  Every time my daughter breathed louder than a normal breath, my mother-in-law would nudge me and say “ehhh, she’s hungry, feed her” – Noooo, she’s just breathing!

The theory of breastfeeding and weight loss is a myth – I’ve piled it on.  The theory of Breastfeeding preventing allergies is a myth – my cherub has an allergy to cows milk protein.  Yes, she could have lactose free formula but it stinks!! It tastes like gone off eggs. I wouldn’t drink it so I won’t give it to her.  I give her breast milk so would I drink that, you may ask? Of course I would, as did my husband at Stansted airport when asked to “verify” the breast milk by a female customs officer.  He thought it was hysterical that the lady chose him instead of me to test it (she had obviously been through a bitter divorce and was now seeking to humiliate anyone with a penis, was my husbands opinion).  He didn’t want to satisfy her mean streak so duly had a teeny weeny suck on the teat, stuck his tongue out to show the milk and swallowed.

If it wasn’t for the allergy situation, I would have stopped breastfeeding months ago.  I know its good for my child and I have enjoyed every emotionally connecting moment of it; the way she looks up at me, the way she headbutts me in the chest as if to say ‘ma, I’m ready now’.

I have not been ashamed of my bresticles at all.  I get them out freely.  However, getting them out isn’t really “getting them out” – the majority of mothers don’t go around swinging their hooters or squirting milk at the nearest passer-by and although tempting, I have never, ever, seen a fellow milk maid inflicting one of these hats on their child. Most women want to blend in and get the job done.

Most mothers are so discreet you wouldn’t even notice the boob if it wasnt for the necessary positioning of the baby.  Most mothers use garments to cover up too – that which I now call the Michael Jackson effect.  I started with a well-known branded apron affair but I spent so much time faffing with it that my daughter wasn’t feeding properly. I then tucked a muslin cloth into my bra strap and dangled that over her the offending area (pun intended).  Eventually, as she got older and more fidgety, this didn’t work.  I gave up trying.  I just couldn’t bear to cover my little one’s face whilst she was having her milk – I don’t think I’d find it too amusing if I was tucking into a steak with a sheet over my head!

So, yes, breastfeeding is a wonderful thing – for me.  Its emotional, its personal, its me&her time, its lovely.  Its my choice.  It is also my choice not to upload photos of my daughter breastfeeding to Facebook or any other social media forum. I’m not against mothers who do and I applaud their willingness to support the cause.

I do agree however that this week, Facebook have made a right tit of themselves!

Baby nearly asleep at the breast

 
11 Comments

Posted by on February 28, 2012 in London

 

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