Yesterday was a Pepto day. I talked to lots of my girlfriends who cried as they sent their little ones off to school. Instead of some sweet mama tears I am stinkin up the bathroom with direaha and drinking Pepto straight out the bottle hoping not to vomit. Why I gotta be so gross?!? Then my OBGYN office calls to say they have booked my Hysteroctomy for January 16th. So I have to get up off the couch where I am laying with my pants unzipped with my plastic trash can 'just in case' and an ice pack on my head to take that call. And if giving up my uterous is not hard enough, I will be getting breast implants also. I feel my reasons are honorable. I will go to a C to balance my body. We spent much more on remodeling the house with things that were not 'necessary'. It seems the decission should not be that tough. So why am I more scared of breast than terrorist?
While many women may buy clothes to enhance their larger bust I keep looking at bigger stuff to make sure 'no one thinks I am trying to be a whore'. As a wife, a mother and a Christian, I never know what to do when I am hit on in public. It is only when I am not with my husband or girls but keeping them with me does not seem to be an option. While I am so flattered to still have men find me attractive after 4 children and almost 9 years of marriage, it sends terror through my soul when it happens. And at the same time I crave it. Could it really be simple? Could it all just boil down to my past where I only seemed valued for my looks? It is hard to explain and I have not found many people who understand, but while I know I possess physical beauty, I usually feel it is more of a curse than a blessing. I have wished too many times to be scarred or disfigured but at the same time, I now have freedom in Christ.
Freedom to get boobs? That's what I'm talkin bout Baby!