I am not a large chested woman. Never have been except during pregnancy. But something occurred a few years ago that exacerbated the situation.
A few years ago, I underwent a lumpectomy. Pre-cancerous cells were found in the mammary ducts and I was extremely lucky it was caught so early. Trust me, I understand that the lumpectomy probably saved my life. I'm not complaining about that at all.
What bothers me...and I realize it seems petty and small in the circumstances...is the damage left behind. The surgery took about a quarter or so of one of my breasts. It is noticeable and a daily reminder. While in the grand scheme of things, it may seem inconsequential...it makes me feel deformed and somehow less of a woman.
When I had the lumpectomy, my surgeon assured me my breast would refill on it's own. Yeah, right. At my six week check-up, he admitted you actually have to have excess body fat for that to happen. Ummm...I don't have any. I fight a daily battle just to keep my BMI out of the "Below Normal" danger range. Would it have made a difference in my surgical decision? No...that wasn't an option. The insurance company ruled that the loss of tissue was not "traumatic" enough to warrant replacement. Really? Then my feelings when I look in the mirror must be mistaken.
So here I sit with my boob and a half. I am lucky, I realize that. I didn't have to have a mastectomy, I didn't lose my life. I realize those facts and I am grateful. But that moment in the shower every day when I realize again what's missing still hurts.