WHAT?!

Crazy as this sounds, I have been kicking around this internal dialogue for a while now... When and how is the right time time bring up the boob stuff?  I mean should I just keep it a secret, should I only let certain people know, or should I post a blog about it...  My breasts or whatever you want to call them do not define me, but they are me, and the process has created this me.

The military has decided to dislocate the Dickey family, foobs and all across the globe to Germany.  This means having to forge new relationships with common nipple bearing folks and maybe even the topless, European sorts.  I know it's weird that I am even taking the time to consider how or when or even what to tell these new people.  The hubs thinks it's best to keep it bound in a bra because it's no one's business, but I don't know if that's the right call for me.  I haven't been saving up the cash to print handouts or make tee-shirts, but I think once I feel comfortable, I will want to share my jug journey.  I just haven't come across an opportunity to share my story with someone I didn't already know and don't really know how or even if I should fondle the topic.

Hi, I'm Tara Dickey and I have no nipples...  That's an icebreaker for the books dick and boobs all in one!

Augmentation v. Reconstruction

I really have to get something off my chest, figuratively this time!  Recently, I have had an influx of girlfriends that have opted for breast augmentation.  I am completely supportive of their decision and realize that it is something that is necessary for them and frankly, I could care less what they chose to do with their bodies.  And, I totally love seeing them transform through the process getting to that point where they feel a renewed sexiness.  It's amazing how such a simple change in size or shape can unveil a vixen of confidence.

But, this is where I fall flat on my face; I can't help feeling jealous.  Your new equipment gave you sultry confidence, while I wrap the towel around me before I exit the shower.  You go braless in daring shirts, while I am constantly checking to see if my implant wrinkles are exposed.  You are empowered between the sheets, while I am hiding under a sweatshirt. You desire the feeling of your man's hand up your shirt, while I have no feeling at all.  You love the new role breasts play during sex, while mine are left untouched.  With a smile and my tongue pressed between my teeth I will engage you, but girl it's painful.

Salt in my wounds when anyone compares their breast enhancement surgery to what I went through.  Be it the recovery, the event, the scars, the surgery, the emotional distress, IT'S ALL DIFFERENT!  Let me be clear,

YES, I HAVE IMPLANTS, NO I DID NOT HAVE A BOOB JOB.

If ya wanna see the things bolted to my chest that barely resemble a tit, I'll show ya.  You might get confused because where you have a nice little fleshy pink nipple I have a red scar, but I assure you they are my hot, new boobs just like yours right?

Barely Boobs and Baby Bumps

So Joshua was exposed that ever contagious baby fever!  I don't know what it is, but he caught that bug and I can't seem to cure him of it.  He's hunched over the porcelain pot and begging for a remedy.  Not that I am fervently opposed to the idea of reproducing yet again, but I truly am satisfied with being a mom of two.  Isn't that perfectly average anyways?  

These surgeries have really taken a toll and I am still sweating my ass off trying to rid the extra thirty plus lbs my butt collected since my mastectomies.  I know that is a silly and selfish reason, but you know what? IT IS MY REASON!  I have been over 200 whoppers with each one of my pregnancies starting around 135 each time.  Okay, I'll be honest, with Kennady I tipped the scales at 220.  Yeah, no need to do the math to see I was a big girl and put on a lot of weight!  Anyhow, I had always been able to get the weight off fairly easily, but since surgery I've been losing the battle.  I have been eating clean, riding my bike almost everyday, and hitting the gym four times a week.  Even with this major lifestyle change, the scale hasn't even tickled a comfortable number on the scale.  I have read some case studies about mastectomies, hormones, and weight gain; not that that's my excuse or anything!  Imagine if I put on 80 plus lbs starting at 150...  UGH bad mental picture.

The other thing, I want to breast feed!  Yeah, it's impossible with no breast tissue and even more impossible with no nipples!  I am controlling and don't want Joshua to be able to nourish our child like I have done so in the past.  I am the mom and it's my job.  Haha, I know putting that in words sounds so silly, but it's true.  Oh well.

I am also wondering the affect pregnancy will have on my surgeries.  I have been trying to do a little research, but can't really find anything.  I saw that they put Christina Applegate in a high risk category, but it might have been for other reasons.  Will they sag?  How will they take to the weight gain?  What will I tell the lactation nurse when she comes in?!  haha.

Lastly, I just want nipples and to be done with this whole surgery process.  I really never understood that it took so much time and so much out of you.  I just want to toss this part of my life out the window and watch it shrink in the rear view. 

If only there were some way to compromise a child... huh, half a child?  the left or the right? bottom or top? 

Sounds like I am totally convinced I don't want another, but after self evaluating...