Beauty & The Breast

Since my diagnosis I've become enamored with my breasts.

I've seen them everyday for my entire life, yet hadn't thought much about them, until now.

Sure, buying bras and clothes, yes they're there, but my attention to them now is so different. I don't know if this is common or unusual, as this is my journey and this is my feel.

And the one particular breast seems to get just a little bit more attention. I'm mindful of her.

When I shower.....

As I'm writing this I'm tearing up a bit. I can't explain the emotion, it's the mind inside.

When I shower, I lather her mindfully.

When I rub lotion on her, I seem to be more delicate with her.

When I trace her curves with a dab of essential oil from my finger, it's almost like an act of love.

When I stand in front of a mirror, I acknowledge them both with admiration.

When you have a consult for any type of surgical procedure the doctor includes the risks. When I had my brain surgeries I was informed of the standard internal risks that can come with any surgery and because of where the tumors were in my orbits area, I was also told about the risks to my vision.

This was different. This was a different kind of risk.

Along with the standard internal risks that all surgeries carry, my surgeon had a long talk with me about the changes to my breast that are possible to occur from the lumpectomy and radiation treatments.

It is standard practice to have a cosmetic surgeon consult during this phase. She was sure to emphasize that if I choose to have cosmetic surgery it is covered by my insurance because it is under the full scope of the cancer treatment.

When I stand in front of a mirror I see them both, but soon enough my gaze always ends up moving to her. I don't know what to expect. I refuse to look at pictures or listen to what someone else's experience is. These are mine.

Perhaps that's why I'm so mindful of her now, because afterwards, she may be a stranger to me.

No matter. I'll love her even more.

The beauty of the breast has for ages signified the sex appeal of a woman. By other people's standards, society's standards.

Since I'm in the entertainment industry, let's go with Hollywood. All glamour and glitz.

From Dorothy Dandridge to Rita Hayworth. From Josephine Baker to Marilyn Monroe.

Sophia Loren to Sofia Vergara.

Big. Small. A, B, C, D.....the doubles. From yesterday's tinsel town starlets to today's Instagram posers, breasts whether fully covered or portions revealed, the adage, "If you got it, flaunt it." forever holds true. They are the attention getters, they can be the first to be seen when we walk into a room.

Breast augmentation has been around since 1895, first used on a patient having a partial mastectomy. Eventually the desire for bigger breasts became the norm. Real vs Not Real. Only her hairdresser knows for sure.

With taste and class, I'm all for a little cleavage peek-a-boo. I am one of those women who enjoys wearing a nice v-neck t-shirt, just a little lower than some. And I also like a clingy turtleneck which accents their curves and form.

The beast of the beauty of the breast is vanity. When it comes to my breast, there's some vanity there I admit. A healthy dose.

However, my sex appeal is not defined by them. Nor is it defined by the outward appearances that society thinks is sexy or beautiful.

A former boyfriend and I went on a double date once with his parents, to see a play. The four of us had a lovely night! As we were walking hand in hand to the car, he whispered to me, "Your grace is so sexy." He wasn't talking about my breast, or anything physical, he was talking about how I carried myself.

Sex appeal is all relative.

Breasts are beautiful, no matter what size.

Breasts are beautiful, when draped with style and class.

Breasts are beautiful and nurturing.

So, here I am, with this heinous intrusion inside something so beautiful and nurturing.

Knowing what she looks like and feels like and then knowing that what has to be done to heal her and cure her, could possibly not make her look or feel beautiful.

But I will give it my all to make sure she knows she's beautiful.

By she I mean me.

Speaking of nurturing.

What are breasts?

The upper front. Protruding. Hmmm, I hadn't thought of them like that before. But yes, they protrude from the front of the upper part of our bodies.

And they do indeed have a purpose.

I've never heard anyone say, "Oooh weee! Look at her upper fronts! They are really protruding!"

Voluptuous. Rubenesque. These are two words/phrases that come to mind that have been spoken when it comes to the curvaceousness of a woman's body.

When I consider Baroque, Dutch painter Rubens, from which the phrase Rubenesque comes from, I personally don't see the voluptuousness in the women he painted.

They were thick women for sure. Thick thighs, thick butts, thick, round stomachs, but their breasts were small in proportioned to their bodies. And yet, his paintings of these women have come to be somewhat of a standard of beauty.

So, what about the purpose?

Breastfeeding is one of the most naturally beautiful moments between a mother and her baby. Let me break for a moment and get into the science of breast milk.

How is breast milk made?

During pregnancy, breasts start getting ready to make milk. As milk making tissues rapidly grow, breasts become fuller and more tender. After delivery of the baby, pregnancy hormones lower which then helps the lactation hormone, prolactin, to be released. Prolactin sends a message that tells the breasts to make milk. Both the mother’s hormones and the baby's suckling cause breasts to make milk. The more the baby nurses, the more milk is made.

When the baby suckles, another hormone, oxytocin, sends a message that tells the small muscles in the breast to contract. This muscle contraction moves the milk through the milk ducts. This is called the let-down reflex. It releases the milk into the milk ducts so the mother can breastfeed her baby.

The cancer that I was diagnosed with was called Lobular Carcinoma (see what I did there?;)

It is a form of breast cancer that starts in the milk-producing glands of the breast.

So, there's that.

In the beauty of the breast, did the purpose of the breast get lost because of their beauty?