A Conversation With My BreastsRebekah Kuschmider
I’m about 38 weeks pregnant and starting to make all those important final preparations for a new baby. Things like telling my husband to put together nursery furniture, reminding him to install the car seat, and nagging him about seeing if he can remember where he stowed the hardware for the swing that we disassembled after it was clear that our older child hated it like poison.
In addition to having all the husband harassment well in hand, I’ve got diapers, wipes, and some clothes for this baby. That leaves me free to think about two other goals for after delivery: feeding the baby using nothing but my boobs and losing enough weight to spotlight said boobs.
With that in mind, I checked in with The Girls recently to give them a little pep talk about what’s expected of them after I give birth. What follows is a direct transcript:
Me: Good morning, ladies! How are you today?
Boobs: We feel fat.
Ass: You think you feel fat!
Me: Ahem. Ass, keep out of this. This is between me and my boobs. Listen, girls, I wanted to check in with you and see how you’re doing. We’re getting toward the end here and your time to shine is rapidly approaching. You’re not going to let me down, are you?
Boobs: Did you say “let-down”?
Me: No! At least not yet. Wait till the baby comes. I mean, I appreciate all the little tingles you’ve been giving me that feel like let-down but there’s no need to jump the gun. Just the hint that you’re on board with the plan to nurse this baby is enough.
Boobs: OK. We’ll hold off. Is there anything else?
Me: Well, since you mention it…
Me: You, um, you look, um…well, could you sit up straight?
Boobs: Excuse us?
Me: You’re slouching.
Boobs: Drooping? Oh, that’s rich. We’ve doubled in size since you got knocked up and you’re upset that we’re not standing at attention?
Me: Well, yeah! This is your moment in the sun! You’re never this big! Stand up and be proud! Like this weekend when I wore that v-neck dress? You could have used that opportunity to rise up and really fill out the top. Instead you were cowering way out of sight. Don’t hide your light under a bushel!
Boobs: More like on a bushel…
Me: What’s that supposed to mean?
Boobs: Your belly is the size of a bushel basket and we’re right on top of it. It’s a nice spot to rest.
Me: Yeah, well, that’s going away. What are you going to do after that? Dangle around my navel?
Boobs: Maybe. Unless you get us some kick ass bras. This isn’t our first rodeo here, lady. Remember your first pregnancy? And 12 months of nursing afterwards? Also, you’re 38. Gravity ain’t your friend and it ain’t ours neither.
Me: Wow, your grammar sucks. OK, I hear you on the pregnancy and nursing thing but the age deal might be a cop out. You’re not 38. You’re only about 22 since you didn’t make an appearance until I was 16 or so. And you were tiny then! I think you owe me a little va-va-va-voom right about now.
Boobs: Va-va-va-voom? We are all about function, not form. Our job is to feed your baby. Not make you look like a Kardashian.
Ass: I could look like a Kardashian! Which is the one with the big booty?
Me: Cool it, Ass! You’re on your way out!
Me: OK, let’s try to come to an agreement here. You’ll lactate like champs and I’ll get you some seriously supportive nursing bras so I can show you off. I won’t just wear the ones from my last nursing stint. Cool? Because this is it for us. We’re not going to have another opportunity like this. After this baby weans, the three of us reconvene the Itty Bitty Titty Committee. Forever.
Boobs: (whispering among themselves) OK, deal. We’ll do the milk gig and you can pretend that you’re voluptuous.
Me: Awesome! Thanks, girls!
Boobs: That is, if you can motivate off the couch to go get fitted for the right bra after you have the baby.
Boobs: Yeah. That’s what we thought. If you need us in the meantime, we’ll be drooping comfortably.
Photo credit: Author