The world is made for big breasted women . . .

I am a small breasted woman.  In fact, I only have cleavage when I'm pregnant or first breast feeding.  I've been nursing George for well over a year now, so my breasts are back to their normal size.  I'm at the point where I no longer need breast pads, nor does my breast size fluctuate throughout the day.  George generally only nurses in the evening and perhaps once during the night, so I'm not producing a lot of milk.  Given that, I'm ready to stop wearing nursing bras, even if I'm not ready to wean him yet.  I last bought bras when I was pregnant, so I don't have any bras that fit.  Friday I went shopping.  My demands are pretty simple.  I wanted to buy three or four bras, in my size, that will give me some lift and a bit of coverage.  In all honesty, I want bras that prevent my students and my colleagues from seeing my nipples.  In my mind, that seems like a fairly simple desire.

As I tried bras on, it became clear that I am now almost a full cup size smaller than I was before I started nursing George.  (As an aside that means I've lost almost two cup sizes since Wild Man was born).  I now wear a Double A, for those of you who are interested.  I quickly discovered that I could buy any bra I wanted in any size from 34B to 42DD.  But the Double A is elusive.  The sales person at one lingerie store told me it's easier to go to a specialty store to buy bras in Es, Fs, or Gs (for which I am well aware women have to pay exorbitant prices) than it is to buy Double As.  I was advised to order them online.  But I want to try them on first, I explained.  She suggested I go to the girls' department.  Needless I left the store.

*And before anyone suggests it, I did try on my "sister size," which is apparently a size smaller in width, but a cup larger.  That size didn't fit very well.

I should be working, but . . .

this is too cool not to share! 

A breastfeeding group in Salt Lake City celebrated World Breastfeeding Week with a Babywearing Flash Mob!  So awesome!

Um, seriously?

So a suburb of Atlanta has made it illegal to breastfeed a child older than 2, in an attempt to curb public nudity throughout the city.  I have lots of things to say about this.  First, doesn't the city council have more important things to deal with?  Second, how is breastfeeding a child equated with being nude in public?  I mean seriously.  Why are Americans so flipping prudish?  Why is a breast such a horrific thing to see, especially when it is being used to feed a child?  I so prefer Canada and Europe when it comes to things like this.  Bear was 18 months when we traveled in Italy at Christmas, and he was still nursing.  In fact, I let him nurse whenever and wherever he wanted while we were traveling because we were often off-schedule.  I nursed him at the Colloseum, I nursed him outside the Duomo of the Florence Cathedral, I nursed him sitting behind Michelangelo's David, and I even nursed him in the Vatican Museum twice, not to mention on the train, in the airport, in the lobby of every hotel we stayed at, and almost every restaurant we were in.  I did my best to be discreet because I'm not comfortable having strangers see my breast.  But Bear was interested in looking at things, so he often lifted the cover so he could look around.  On several occasions, as I struggled to keep us the cover over us, people came over to us and pulled the cover away, so they could get a good look at Bear.  I was told over and over again how beautiful he was, and no one said anything about me nursing in public.  Why can't more Americans treat breastfeeding like this--as a beautiful thing between a mother and child?

Is it possible?

A few minutes ago, as I left the restroom, I paused to wash my hands and to make sure I didn't have any of my lunch in my teeth. As I adjusted the v-neck sweater I'm wearing, I noticed something: I no longer have the voluptuous breasts of a newly lactating mother. In fact, if it is possible, I think my breasts are smaller now than they were before I got pregnant with Wild Man. I think I want to cry a little.

Don't get me wrong--I'm perfectly happy with my body. I'm petite, and I have a really high metabolism. I rarely have the time to work out, and I can eat mostly what I want and don't have to diet, not even to lose my pregnancy weight. I'm small chested, and I've always been happy with that. But it was really nice to have some cleavage for a while! I enjoyed having something to fill out the v-neck tops that I prefer. I don't want the double-Ds that came home from the hospital with me, but I would have preferred not to lose a half a size as a result of breast feeding either.