New Body, New Clothes

I hate shopping.  I hate going to the grocery store, I hate shopping for clothes or shoes.  I don’t mind so much wandering around Target with a list of things we need for the house, but I really don’t like to go out to buy things for myself.  This used to be because I am overweight and shopping for clothes is hard.  But since I have had a baby, I feel even worse about shopping because it feels like if I have any extra money, it should go to stuff my kid needs.

But then I see in my head those women on “What Not to Wear” who have completely “let themselves go” and they all blame their children.  I don’t want to be one of those women.  So even though I’m content with sweats on the weekends, I need to update my weekday wardrobe.

And, now that my body has changed a lot, I am desperate for some new clothes.  I begin the day with pants that feel comfy, and by the end of the day, they are completely falling off and I can remove them without even unzipping.  I really needed some stuff to wear this summer for teaching and the many meetings I have to attend, but I’d been putting it off for a while.  My other problem is that I am going to be meeting with many important people at my university in the coming year for various projects related to my job, and I really need to update my wardrobe from what it is now – something between lounge-wear and business casual – to full on business attire.

Finally, some online sales caught my eye, and I bit the bullet.  Today a few boxes arrived, and I’m happy to say that I now have six pairs of summer work pants and a couple of cute tops as well – and they all fit really nicely.  I’m surprised that I actually only went down one pants size and one shirt size, but I suppose, as I’ve said, even though my stomach is gone, my ass and thighs remain, as do my flabby arms, which makes it hard to get short-sleeved blouses in sizes any smaller than I used to wear.  Regardless, I don’t suspect any of these new pants will leave me half-naked by the end of the day.  I’ve also ordered a suit that should get me through the fall.

At the end of the summer, I suppose I’ll start ordering some clothes for winter.  But for now, this alone is a huge achievement.

Inspiring Blog Award

I am thrilled to accept the Very Inspiring Blogger Award from a fellow blogger!

Mogatos, who writes Saying NOPE to Breast Cancer, nominated me for this award – what a doll!  She has been documenting her journey and her blog is a great resource particularly if you are interested in learning more about physical fitness and whole foods eating after PBM.

According to Mogatos, there are actually rules and directions that come with this award, such as: link back to the blogger who nominated you and post the award image on your page. Then there are these two:

Share 7 facts about yourself.

Let’s see – I can’t think of anything all that interesting that hasn’t already been said somewhere on this blog.  I have a kiddo who will be two in a little more than a month, I’m married to the world’s biggest Red Sox Fan, I am a teacher, I’m recently obsessed with Quicken, my cat is named after Freddy Mercury, I love my Subaru, and I’ll eat pretty much anything that is covered in melted cheese.

Nominate other blogs and inform them about it.

I read a lot of other women’s BRCA blogs,  I’m inspired by all of them, and I’m thankful to have them as a community of readers and writers.  They are all witty, they laugh in the face of grief and pain, and they’re all honest, open, and sharing their experiences in order to help others.

The list of these women is to the right.  I hope you’ll check them out, as well as the blogs listed on FORCE’s Community Blogs page.

Lookin’ Good?

Yesterday, two people told me that I looked good (without any prompting!).  Today, a mother at my son’s preschool said, “Lookin’ good” after asking me how I was feeling.

Why do I mention this?  Because even though tons of people ask me how I feel each day, these are the first three instances of anyone commenting on my appearance since my surgery.  I have been back at work now for four and a half weeks.  This means I’ve been wearing my nice clothes, the ones that actually fit my body (not the sweatpants and hoodie I lived in while recovering), and yet still no compliments.

I know it will sound arrogant, but I’m sort of surprised by this, and clearly it’s been on my mind because when it happened yesterday, my first thought was, “finally!”  Half of my stomach is gone!  How is no one noticing that I look thinner?  Perhaps because I still have my wide flat ass and thunder thighs?  My breasts are up higher (where they’re supposed to be), rounder, and smaller, thus making my whole chest look a lot nicer, or so I think.  Is no one noticing that my boobs have shrunk?  Over Passover, I saw at least seven relatives who I hadn’t seen in over a year – all of them knew about the surgery – not one person commented on my appearance.  Not even my mother has commented that I look nice or that I look slimmer or anything!

Maybe I don’t really look any better.  Maybe I just look the same.  Or maybe people just weren’t paying that much attention to my appearance before, so they don’t have a basis for comparison.  Maybe people are worried that if they comment on my appearance, I will take it to mean that they’ve observed my breasts in some inappropriate way.  Or maybe they’re worried they’ll offend me, that after having gone through such an emotional experience and health scare that aesthetics is the last thing I’m worried about.

Well, it’s not.  I’m surprised to admit this about myself, but even though my reason for the surgery was not aesthetic, nicer boobs and flatter tummy were supposed to be the fringe benefit.  And I want people to notice.

All this said, even if others aren’t noticing, I am.  I feel a hundred times better in my clothes.  I feel like people can see my face instead of my breasts.  I feel like I look more professional and put together and I’m braver about walking around my classrooms.  I’m more confident about my body (well, with clothes on at least).  And here comes the big cliche ending:  I guess how I feel about myself really is what matters most.

But come on people – give a girl a break!  After all the crap I went through, after the drains and the gauze and the binding, all the oozing and tearing and pulling and pain — can’t you just tell me I look nice?  Don’t worry – I won’t accuse you of sexual harassment because you might have noticed that I still have breasts!

Did I Do That?

Lately I hear those words in my head a lot – “Did I do that?”  Usually, I have this scenario in mind:  I’m at the doctor – any doctor (my PCP, rheumatologist, etc).  I step on the scale, which shows I have lost almost 20 pounds since my last visit.  The nurse comments – the nurse always comments (in the scenario and in real life) – “Wow, you lost some weight.  Good for you.”  And I say the words, “I had a mastectomy.”  And the nurse of course either looks at me with pity or looks down at my chart to make some notes.

Thirty-six year old women should not be saying the words “I had a mastectomy.”  Really, no one should be saying it, but truthfully, I do think of it as something that happens to old ladies, like 70s or 80s old.

The other thing is that I had been planning this mastectomy for seven years, which is another way of saying – I’ve been putting off this mastectomy for seven years.  I think part of me didn’t believe the day would ever really come.  But it did.  I had a mastectomy.  When I cup my hand around my new ‘breast,’ I am not shocked by how it feels (I’m used to it by now) but I am shocked that it’s not my old breast.  I’m shocked that I actually went through the procedure I’d been planning (a pause – I was thinking of saying “dreading” instead of planning, but I really wasn’t dreading it) for so long.  I’m sort of shocked, I guess, that it’s over (well, this part is over).

There are women who say that after they give birth, they miss being pregnant.  They feel a loss because they’re no longer attached to their baby in the same way.  For nine months, they’d gotten used to sharing a body with their child and were content that way.  I guess for me, for seven years I’d been used to the idea that I was going to have a mastectomy and I was content too.  But now that I have done it, there is a strange loss there – not the loss of my breasts, but the loss of the mastectomy looming ahead in my future; I’ve lost the anticipation, I suppose.  You’d think that would be a good thing, but it’s strangely a hard thing to come to terms with.  I guess it’s like any time you jump in, take a plunge, face a challenge head on – when it’s over, even though you can see the physical results, you still can’t help but ask yourself, “Did I do that?”

 

Uh Oh Moments

Just now, I walked from my home office into my bedroom – probably a total of ten feet.  Halfway there, I felt just the slightest bit (really, a teeny tiny bit) of pain under my left breast.  And I had a moment of “uh oh – something just tore open.”  It’s my first though anytime I feel even the slightest twinge of anything in my breasts or abdomen – my body is tearing open and I’ll need some kind of repair surgery.  Sometimes I ignore it, but if I happen to be near a mirror, I take a look just to check.  It’s never anything.

Just kind of wondering when those are going to end.