Boob job

Earlier this month, my temporary expanders, which were placed during my mastectomy in May and filled over time to my desired size, were replaced with my permanent implants. Or mostly permanent – I’ll probably have to get them switched out one time assuming I achieve a standard life expectancy. The expanders were sewn to my chest wall and as a result didn’t move, felt unnatural, and were generally uncomfortable. I was so excited to have them removed that I hadn’t thought much about the implants replacing them.

In processing my breast cancer diagnosis there was what was happening in the moment and there was a day in the future when this would all be in the past. I didn’t let myself think much about the in between because the present moment was about all I could handle.

Other things I never thought about included: what my boobs would look like in the end, how I would feel about them, and how I would know when I had reached the end. Outside of the first plastic surgeon’s office I visited, where he had shown me a book of boobs, I never did additional research on what implants post-mastectomy looked like. I thought I had a general idea, I mean most of us have known at least one person who has gotten a boob job - or at the very least watched a red carpet show.

There is a big difference though, between a boob job and reconstruction after a mastectomy. When someone has a boob job they get to keep their breast tissue, allowing for a fuller, more natural look. However, a mastectomy removes 97% of breast tissue, so there is skin, a 3% layer of breast tissue, and then the implant. Now, many women rejoice at this because it means drooping or sagging is replaced with permanently perky. Which is desirable, right? I mean only having to wear a bra when I feel like it does sound pretty awesome… but I’m not there yet.

The stage I’m at right now consists of wearing compression bras which are essentially just really tight sports bras. The goal being to reduce swelling as well as to make sure the inner bra tissue-pocket, created by my plastic surgeon, heals properly so that the implants stay in place. The implants are not sewn to my chest wall like the expanders were, so they are basically just floating around in manufactured boob holes.

I had hoped that when the bandages came off, I would cry with joy at my new boobs. That all of the surgery and recovery had been, not worth it exactly, but maybe rewarded. But that’s not what happened.

Pausing here so that before you comment that I’m lucky that my cancer was treatable, and lucky to have been able to have reconstruction, and lucky for this, and silver lining for that – you know that I fully embrace all of it. This is definitely one of those both/and situations. I am grateful. But I also think it’s important to be honest about all aspects of this process because there is someone out there that feels the same way I do and needs to know that it's ok. Actually, today, that person might be me.

As the days have gone on, I am realizing my reticence toward these new boobs has nothing to do with my surgeon’s handiwork. As far as fake boobs go, I think she did an excellent job. The problem is, I never researched or envisioned what to expect.

Though to be fair, I have been busy readjusting to a different body, or at least different breasts, every few months - if not every few weeks - of this past year. I tried not to let myself freak out over each transition because I knew each one was temporary.

Until now.

Now, I am in possession of my forever boobs. They do not look like my natural boobs and they are not supposed to. But I admittedly panicked last week when I wasn’t immediately in love with them. I mean everyone told me I was going to come out of this with a great rack – had I been cheated?

My plastic surgeon (and not one but two of her nurse practitioners) reminded me that it takes three months for the implants to settle. They noted that my body is still healing at a rate of 10% a week and as a result each week they are going to look a little different.

Also, in their defense, as long as I have to wear these binding sports bras (two weeks down, two weeks to go), it looks like I have a uniboob, which is universally NOT what women dream about following boob surgery. I trust in the end that I will like these new boobs. But just as these implants adjust to my body, I am going to have to mentally adjust to them as well. So once again, I am realizing I have to give my body grace… ugh I am SO SICK of granting myself grace. Just fucking do what you are supposed to and look like I want you to already! I know, I know, patience and grace, but also know that I am giving my best pre-teen eye roll at the same time.

ID: Kelly standing in a white bathroom taking a selfie. Her chest is bound in an ace bandage. A glass shower can be seen behind her.