I have a good pair of friends; let’s call them B-cup one and two. Not too big, not too small, just the right size to create some cleavage for a night out (ok, alright, this happens thanks to a good push up bra). However, our future relationship is on the line. They are in for some rough weather: pain, engorgement, and months of a baby sucking the life of them. And then my perception of them will change. No longer they will be perceived as sexy objects (well, as perceived by my husband, hopefully). No, from now on I will be more concerned about milk production capabilities than how they fill a nice top. It’s official, I’m about to become a cow!
We talked about breastfeeding at my antenatal class yesterday. From some reason I always thought it looked easy; the baby eating away happily and the mother watching her, smiling. But apparently it is hard work and it can take weeks before mom and baby get the hang of it. Sounds like a hungry baby, frustration and tears to me. What have we signed up for, girls?
And then I’m wondering how it feels like to have baby sucking at your breasts. I’m pretty funny how they are manhandled at the best of times.
However, I’m happy to give it my breast go (ha ha ha). There are so many benefits, and I like the idea of being able able to nourish my baby all by myself.
Besides, boob jobs aren’t that expensive anymore are they? I bet you can have one done at Tesco while doing your weekly shopping.
