I knew when I signed up for this mummying lark that my body would change. Obviously it would. I have grown two whole people in there (go me!) but have been very lucky that I have got back into
most of my pre-pregnancy clothes relatively quickly both times. Please don’t hate me.
My body has changed shape though. I have wider hips than I did before. It’s definitely my hips and not my ass, before you ask. I have a slightly rounder stomach (though that could be the bourbon biscuits) but I am still a size 10 – 12. I was lucky enough not to get stretch marks thanks to good genes (thanks mum). My body, on the whole doesn’t look too bad considering all it has been through in the last four years.
The two people that I grew then went on to be breast fed for the first 13 months of their lives.
When Big M was just a twinkle in Mr TOPP’s eye I was the proud owner of a pair of 34DD’s. After she was born I ballooned to a 34F. Not quite Jordan-esque, but still.
Little M finished feeding two months ago. Today I went shopping for non-maternity/feeding bras for the first time in what feels like forever. I was very excited. I was measured as a 32C. Not bad considering.
And then I tried on some bras. None of them fitted me properly. Mostly because my norks no longer have the va-va-voom they once had. Sad face. 26 months of feeding have left them looking very sorry for themselves.
After visiting three shops and trying on eleventy seven bras I eventually found one that makes me look like I actually have something resembling a chest. Not quite the return to pretty underwear I was hoping for. The only way I can think of to get my norks back is to a) get pregnant again or b) have surgery. Both of which fill me with dread.
I guess I’ll just have to hope that, over time, my cleavage returns of it’s own accord. In the mean time I will be waving my arms out to the side.
“I must, I must, I must improve my bust.”