I never really gave much thought to my breasts as a woman in my twenties. They were nicely shaped, a size I liked and all the men I was ever involved with loved them. They could look sporty, or due to my small ribcage, they could look very voluptuous if I chose to wear something skin tight. All of this changed after being pregnant and nursing my son (who is now ten). All of a sudden my breasts were an issue. They hung limply and flat against my chest. I asked every single Mom I could find when their breasts came back. Some said after a year or so, some said never. I waited and hoped for change. I waited and waited. Two years went by and there was no change. They looked like two dog teats hanging on my chest. I was so angry at how unfair that was. I was a great Mom. I chose to nurse. I loved my new found motherhood. I put push ups in all my dresses. I bought push up bras. I tried to ignore how absurd my breasts looked doing doggie style with my husband (pun intended). The defining moment finally came. I put on an evening gown that I had had pushups sewn into but when I “pushed them up” my breasts just sunk into the push ups. There wasn’t even a push up option anymore. “Thats it!” I screamed across the closet to my husband, “I’m getting implants!” I made the appointment the next day and scheduled myself for implants and a partial lift. Then I spent the next three appointments agonizing over which size to choose. I brought in sweaters, t shirts, work out shirts, dresses. Everything I could to determine which size implants would 1. be close to what I had before 2. fill out the skin so that the stretch marks wouldn’t show (I had so much extra skin, that if I wasn’t having a partial lift, I would need implants bigger than Pamela Anderson’s to fill out my breasts!) So now its nearly 8 years later. I had a great doctor, who was a fanatic for no scars. My breasts have become again what I originally had and wanted back. A non issue. I put them in a piece of clothing and they look fine. No thinking involved. I can look voluptuous if I wear something extra tight, or I can look fairly sporty if I wear a T. By the way, my husband through all of this, always told me I was beautiful and didnt need to change or fix anything. What a guy! But, PS. I get screaming mad at the inferences about women with implants. Especially from men. If their testicles fell 6 inches just because they fathered a baby, I think they would have a lot more empathy for the decision those of us make to restore what was rightfully ours in the first place. The personal relationship we have with our own breasts.