"In 2010, after a 17-year marriage, my husband asked for a divorce, saying he couldn't be married anymore. We had two sons, 14 and 16, not quite two years apart, whom I had nursed over four years straight. My once-perky breasts weren't the same after. Whose are? They weren't terrible, just more deflated, like a helium balloon the day after a birthday party."
"I used to joke with my husband that I was planning to have breast surgery when I finished nursing. We had laughed hysterically about my desire for surgery because we both knew I was terrified of hospitals and drugs. I was an au naturel granola girl who hadn't even had caffeine until her mid-30s. I never smoked a cigarette or tried an illegal substance either. Only when I have a migraine do I hesitantly swallow an Advil."
"But after my husband asked for a divorce, something inside of me shifted. If I was going back on the market, I needed my before-childbirth body back. Before kids, my breasts were always my standout feature. Not that I showed them off, because I was horribly shy, but because of my petite frame, people couldn't help but notice my chest. I wasn't even 5 feet tall, and I was just over 100 pounds, but I had a 32DDDD, according to measurements taken in high school."
In 2010 a 17-year marriage ended when the husband asked for a divorce. The narrator had two sons, ages 14 and 16, and had nursed them for over four years, which left her breasts deflated compared with their pre-childbirth shape. She had long feared hospitals and surgery but joked about breast enhancement. After the divorce request she resolved to regain her before-childbirth body to reenter the dating market. Before children she measured 32DDDD; pregnancy made her breasts even larger, prompting concealment in oversized shirts. She demanded that her husband pay for a breast makeover; he refused, intensifying her resolve.
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