PB, nobody will know until the time comes. Just a case of wait and see. Even if I start leaking milk, it doesn't mean anything apparently.
Shep, yep...I was a size 8 when I was 16 and they were FF then. I looked like a who're if I wore clothes to fit my body and like a bloody old sack if I wore clothes to fit my boobs. Won't go into it all now but at the time, despite augmentation being available on the NHS, reduction wasn't and yet it's a far more damaging problem. I will never disagree with augmentation being available, I totally empathise with the psychological issues that come with having no breasts. My issue was always that reductions were sneered at by everyone, yet huge boobs pose both psychological and physical problems. By 19, I had started to develop curvature of the spine. I would be reduced to tears when taking any bra off at night, even £280 pound specialist made ones. I couldn't ride my horse without two bras and a swimming costume and anything more than a quiet hack was physically out of the question for 4 years. I couldn't do something as simple as run to catch a train or bus without having to use both arms to hold them down or the pain would be indescribable. Shopping...I still hate it. Every other girl, even really big girls in school could always find stuff. I couldn't. Trying to buy suits for interviews...shops not letting me buy a size 10 trousers and a 16 jacket that I needed. So I'd have to go for a dress that fit my boobs and basically made Me, as a teenager, look like a middle aged, overweight frump.
I was public property as well. Always laughed and plastered on a smile and let out a sarcastic comment but no matter where I was or who I was with, everyone felt they had the right to leer, make ridiculously rude comments, invite themselves for a feel etc.
When I went to first meet the consultant at Guys Nuffield in London, within maybe 30 seconds of me saying the above, through tears, was crying with me and so was the nurse.
I smiled through every part of the process when I went for the op. It should have been 2 hours, it was 4.5 and they had to top up my anaesthetic three times so when I came round in recovery, I was immediately sick. That carried on for almost 24 hours so they kept me in. The scars go from almost under my armpits to almost meeting between my boobs. They miss by about 1.5cm. There was then a cut going straight up from that cut to the nipples, which were detached and reduced. I went into the Journal some medical publication and to that date, it was the largest nipple movement and most weight removed from a woman under 50.
I remember going up to my room and the nurse telling me NOT to attempt getting up for the loo without calling for help. I assumed this was due to the GA and sickness. It wasn't. I was 19...I could hear every one was busy so thought I knew best and could manage by myself. So, I thought I'd be super sensible and do it really slowly. I pushed the buttons to slowly raise the head end of the bed until I was nearly sitting. Then took a few minutes to adjust. Then I straightened up by myself and took a few more minutes. Slowly hung my legs over the edge, took a few more minutes, you know, being all sensible and stuff.
I took even more time about actually standing and as I did, I held the bed for ages. My head was fine, I didn't feel dizzy at all. I let go, took a step and turned towards the bathroom. Thought I should pause for a moment, again, being sensible. Then before I knew it I was flat on my back with nurses running in and my mum and dad running in after them.
I was pissing myself laughing, it worried about popping stitches but they were fine. The nurse laughed at me telling her how careful and slow I was and she said, "It had bugger all to do with your head Love, you've spent the last few years automatically leaning back to be able to carry the almost 5kg you've just had taken off your chest. You need to learn to balance yourself again"!
I still laugh when I think of that.
I also vividly remember my consultant wiping the floor with the woman in the next room as she was in for an augmentation and shouted loud enough for me to hear, "She's young, she's fine, get me some bloody painkillers" repeatedly. He ended up giving her a lecture on the physical and emotional issues of large boobs. Lol. Not very professional of him but I did feel quite good about it.
Anyway, it was all positive for me. I got a really nasty post ok infection but even that ended up great as it fuzzed out the scar lines so they're hardly visible now, even if you look for them, lol.
I'm quite prepared to do similar again after babies as while I love them now, they are not going to grow anymore and I'd quite like to go smaller again...to a D cup probably. Luckily, I have no fear of surgery.