Your Breasts No Longer Salute the Sun?
If you have ever tried yoga, you may be aware of a pose called Sun Salutation. If you have ever had a child, you may wish that your breasts would learn yoga and salute the sun. I would be content with the moon, or even Saturn.
One reason a man is a man is because he has a penis accompanied by a scrotum. Simple logic dictates that being a woman involves having breasts and a vagina. Of course, we all know why the good Lord equipped us with those hard-to-beat infant feeding parts, but trust me on this, breasts are what we ladies have that make us feel either: 1. Like a Real Woman; or, 2. Like a Lesser Woman. Don’t believe me? If I a wrong, why is Marilyn Monroe still popular all over the world?
If you ask a man what part of a woman’s body parts most attract him, chances are he will give you a politically correct answer: Her Eyes. That of course, is sheer nonsense! An overwhelming amount of the male population is attracted to breasts, with a few renegades liking legs and butts the most.
How different are men? I would say like a new species!
So, if you are involved in the horror of modern dating, and you find a reasonable candidate, you may worry that when Prince Charming gets you naked, he will not like your not-so-perky breasts. This fascination with breast is hard-wired by centuries of human history. Survival means food and for infants, that free lunch is found in the breasts, not in a guy’s scrotum.
How your breasts got into this mess -Thanks for Sharing Nurse Donna!
My breasts fell flat decades ago. When I was about twenty-four, I ballooned up by thirty pounds, got lost in Key West for a year or so, and that weight went down the drain in record time. Strangers were actually coming up to me and congratulating me on my new look. It was as if I had won the Pulitzer Prize or an Oscar for Best Actress. I became an overnight sensation. That was Strike One for my Girls.
Strikes Two and Three in this breast game came decades later, when I had baby at age 36, then another at age 40. Both babies topped 10 pounds plus a few ounces. It was downhill in Boobland forever by then. In fact, we can safely say I am at rock bottom.I gained about fifty or so pounds with each of my 10 pound infants, losing the weight without trying in 6 weeks. Three strikes and I was OUT.
Even if you have never been pregnant, you may have given up Vitamin Chocolate or Micky D’s. Or, you became a vegan or quit eating bread in all its glorious versions. With dedication rivaling a priest or nun, you worked out like a lunatic and lost 10 or 15 pounds or more. My husband recently asked me if my breasts ever saluted the sun. I searched my memory disc, and came up with “…maybe when I was 15 or 16?”
I bet my husband’s pension that you were ecstatic the day you got down to a size 4, 6 or whatever your sexiest size is. Then, you looked in the mirror–without your Victoria’s Secret uplifting, wired for sound bra, your breasts fell. Even worse, at a topless beach, they slid under your arms.
Of course they droop post weight loss or pregnancy. They can and do fall further than a Miss America contestant does when she doesn’t win squat!!!
There are a few different ways to get them back in shape, and sorry to tell you this, but the gym ain’t one of them! Breast lifts, with or without implants are the only way you will entrap that Mr. Right, even if he ends up being Mr. Not So Right.
What are your surgical options?
You can get what you already have surgically lifted. At first I did not like this idea at all. The incisions required reminded me of a pizza pie.
Depending on how far your boobies fell, there are three different incisions. One, if your case is a mild one, involves just a circular cut around the areola. Then, the surgeon goes in and tightens the skin after lifting the tissues. You are now back to your perky little self.
The Above Seems Like a Lot of Work! There Must Be A Better Way! A Working Time Machine? Forget it! I hated being a teenager!!
Of course, gravity being what it is, the larger you are, the further you fall. Then, the surgeon must add a vertical incision. This goes from your nipple area, which he may have relocated to a position above their current location, down to the base of your breast. This my friends, is called a lollipop incision, though I doubt you get a lollipop afterwards.
On the surface, the scars do not support your wish to go topless on a beach. However, a vertical scar does fade–unlike a horizontal scar.
Years ago, you could always tell if a woman had implants, because in the locker room at the gym, those rounded orbs had a horizontal scar near the base. Nowadays, a breast implant can be neatly accomplished by going in under your armpit-where it is as secret as the date you lost your virginity. We shall delve into the various breast implants modes in a later story.
If, you are a hard case like me, a horizontal scar may be needed. This is called the anchor incision. You can only wish and hope that no one on that topless or nude beach comes over to you with a magnifying glass. Actually 20/20 vision is all that is needed-or, just maybe that scar falls in the shadow of your big tetas.
Now, this is a personal issue that I, the Dolly Parton of Isla Verde will share with you. My girls GREW with menopause. Weird but true! My feet did too! Try finding a size 11 wide on sale!!
So, I dialed up a plastic surgery site, realself.com, and found a Texas surgeon who did lifts with what he called the Bellesoma method. I got my hopes up before I saw that a horizontal incision was placed at the bottom of the breast, where the natural crease is. I immediately thought of the tell-tale sign of an old fashioned breast implant. Never mind, not for me! We shall go back to the drawing board of not the Newlywed game-the lifting boobie game! It will be fun, you will see.