I have small tits

Apparently they are a cup C. All my life I have been kidding myself and thinking they are a B. After I had children I was convinced they had shrunk to an A. Why is that you become Lara Croft overnight when you come into milk but then once the milk has gone so have your beautiful luscious boobs. In their place you don’t even get your old boobs back. Instead I had saggy boobs, one slightly bigger than the other. I felt like I had been short-changed by Mother Nature. I imagined that while Mother Nature was storing my normal boobs for safekeeping while I was milking she mixed them up with someone else’s so when I claimed my old boobs back they weren’t the same. Bit like when you go to a nightclub cloakroom and you ask for your blue coat and you get someone else’s in a slightly different blue hue.

After my first child I was convinced my lack of shape post pregnancy was because I didn’t breastfeed for long enough. So second time round I decided to eek it out a bit longer. This was tricky when I returned to my pre- pregnancy pursuits. Horse-riding required significant support, swimming made me leak (yes euugh) plus my pre-pregnancy swimming costume struggled to contain my new boobs and I was getting fed-up of spotty lifeguards staring at me in-between shower and pool. The most painful pursuit for milky boobs, believe it or not, is riding a motorbike. After having my second child I promised myself I would pass my big bike test. This involved several intense days in the saddle. The morning was not a problem but come lunch-time I was ready to explode and therefore I kept my motorbike jacket on at all times even when everyone else was taking off theirs for fear of a) embarrassing damp patches b) that I would never be able to do it up again until I had been ‘milked’ (hubby was at home bottle feeding while I rode).

Yes I am in mourning for the glimpse of what it was like to possess a pair of bigguns. It was obvious to see how much they had deflated by looking at the special swimming costume I had bought to a) contain my milky boobs and b) stop those bloody lifeguards staring at them all the time! The supportive cups now support nothing. In fact they now act in the same way as the parachute mechanism that inflates to slow down the speed of a space rocket as it lands. In other words, they cause considerable drag. Because I am no longer filling the cups, every time I turn and push off the side to do another length they just fill with water thus slowing me down. My old boobs were great they acted like buoyancy aids.

My husband is a tit man so absolutely loved it when I was breastfeeding – I will leave it at that no further explanation required. But now he keeps mentioning how flat-chested I am which just makes me want to growl all the time – grrrrrr. I then say something about the size of his weener (or however you spell it) just to give him a taste of his own medicine.

I am going to end this however by saying that I am happy with my C cup boobs (as recorded by the lovely lady at M&S). They are easy to carry around with me and I don’t need to strap them up to do the things I like to do. Actually my boobs, and a lot of other women’s post breastfeeding boobs, are normal – its the porn industry that has fucked the image of the boob up (sorry few puns in there I know).

Thanks for reading and be proud whatever your size.

I blog to raise money for Unicef and I have a fundraising page set-up with a target of £100 in a year. All I need is one happy blogger a day to get some decent money flowing to Unicef so if you are able to donate great! Click on the Unicef link.

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