For The Lack of Boobs

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.