I am shocked, positively shocked, by the number of you who claimed you were unaware that we had boundaries. People, there is so much that I don't tell you, and I can assure you that we are all much happier that way. However, I do tend to talk about my breasts a lot, so I don't really see any reason to stop now. So, here's the tale of How Beth Got Her Boobs to Stop Feeling Like they had been Run Over Repeatedly by a Mac Truck, also known as, How I Am Stupid.
When I was pregnant with Mia, sore boobs was by far my first symptom. Well, sore and big (at least for me, which means not really big at all, just less small). I had to go buy new bras when I was about 4 minutes pregnant. This time, no so much. Not at all, in fact. Here I was all knocked up and stuff, and my boobs were stubbornly remaining just my regular old (rather small, a bit flattened from a year of nursing, and frankly also slightly uneven) boobs. (And hey, don't you all totally want to sweet talk me out of my shirt now? I know you do.)
It was actually a little worrisome. Ok, it was a lot worrisome. Early on, I had a week or so of mild nausea, and then nothing for about two weeks. I felt fine, great actually. No nausea, wasn't especially tired, no gas (the other major first trimester issue of my first pregnancy) and decidedly un-sore boobs. It was worrisome to the point that I basically convinced myself, based strictly on my boobs, that the parasite was dead. I wish I was exaggerating, but not in the slightest. I was pretty firmly convinced for a while there, to the point that I sort of gently told Chris about it, just so that he wouldn't be too shocked when we got the news.
And then the nausea came back, and I decided that maybe the baby-thing wasn't so dead after all, and that was good, but I never really shook the feeling until my next OB appointment and sonogram showed little arm buds and leg buds and a cheerfully beating heart. It was a long 5 weeks.
And then this week, at long last and rather suddenly, my boobs hurt like crazy. Constantly, no relief possible, and it was the exact opposite of helpful that I have a two year old who always manages to elbow or head butt or plain old punch me right in the melons, and oh man, I was just in agony. I was kicking myself for being so eager to have sore boobs early on, because I was clearly getting my comeuppance.
And then on Wednesday night, I noticed something. In the shower, which for some reason is slightly more information than I am truly comfortable sharing, but which is also I suppose the most appropriate place to make such a discovery and I don't want you walking around thinking that I just fondle myself at random times throughout the day. Not that I don't, I'm just trying to provide a logical explanation so that you don't have to have that picture in your head if you don't want it. (Um, if you do want that picture in your head, let's not tell me about it, ok?) Anyway, I discovered in the shower on Wednesday night that, in the past no more than a week or so, I have added about a cup size. And of course, I had been cramming my suddenly bodacious (again, for me, and therefore not at all for anyone else) ta-tas into my same old bras, and presto ta-da! Searing boob pain. Which was gone, entirely gone, by Thursday courtesy of a bigger bra.
And let's see... yes. Yes, I do think that is definitely enough information about my boobs to hold all of us for several more months. I'll be sure to keep you up to speed on any fascinating updates, but otherwise let's just move on to other subjects until it is time for me to start bitching about how much the first few days of breastfeeding really fucking hurt a fucking lot like a fucking big fucking dog. Yeah, I'm looking forward to that too.