November 6, 2021 was the one year anniversary of my breast reduction.

I know this isn’t something I really must share, and thus far I’ve only talked about it with close family and friends. However, I’m a proponent of openness – especially when it comes to women’s health issues that are ignored (or, worse, considered shameful). Plus, throughout this process I benefitted from talking to and reading the stories of those who chose to do the same. 

Truthfully, I had wanted this for years. I was already somewhere around C cup by 6th grade, and my boobs just kept growing along with me. My last pre-surgery size guess (because I mostly stopped wearing underwire bras about two years pre-reduction) put me around a H or I cup. As a teen who grew up in purity culture, when your body could cause others to sin, I hid them in shame. After I left that culture, I continued hiding my true shape out of discomfort. They also caused a variety of health issues – rashes, shoulder pain, etc. – that would not go away. It was rashes and skin issues that were the worst of it for me.

So, while at first glance it miiiiight seem a poor choice to undergo an elective surgery in 2020 with no end to the pandemic in sight, the truth is I may have never done it without this forced slowdown. Months of solitude made me think about my life choices and things I wish I’d done or wanted to do. I knew that having surgery in a year where I could really rest (no social obligations and vacation time squirreled away for nothing) was my chance. Plus, I work for a hospital and I understood and felt comfortable with the safety precautions in place for patients.

I decided to go in for a consultation in the summer of 2020 to see if I would be a good candidate for surgery. I was measured and poked. Photographs were taken and turned into insurance. After a note from my doctor about recurring rashes, I was approved easily. The fact that insurance agreed (based on the size of the reduction I would require and the physical issues I haand I didn’t have to fight for approval? Well, it helped solidify the medical benefits of the surgery in my mind. (Though I know insurance will fight people on MANY things that are necessary, this kind of surgery included, so take all that with a grain of salt.)

The one real hesitation I had (aside from just SURGERY) is that I wondered if doing this thing – altering my body forever – would mean that I was setting a bad example for body neutrality or somehow conveying a kind of negative viewpoint to people with breasts like my former pair. However, I don’t think I would have felt good about having this done if I hadn’t embraced my body as it was before.

I didn’t hate my old boobs – Boobs 1.0. They were a pain, but they were pretty and sometimes sexy and always good at helping hold my phone or keys in a pinch. I just decided that a smaller size would improve my life in more ways than would clinging to any hang-ups I had about not being a good advocate for all bodies. Once I started researching and chatting about it, I learned that it’s much more common than you might think. It seemed most people I knew also knew someone who’d had one and found the benefits outweighed the temporary pain of recovery. This was a choice about my own discomfort and what I did to change it. That’s the crux. But body neutrality – and supporting (ha!) my happy large-bosomed buddies – is part of the reason I’m not sharing a before and after photo. I know how triggering they can be from a weight loss standpoint. This isn’t the same, but any big body change can be hard to view objectively. Just trust me, there’s a (five pound!) difference. If you are a friend or stranger who loves your large boobs, know that I’m happy for you!

Tiny side note: I also wanted to have the surgery while I was single. I did not want input from men on what to do with my body, or feel pressure to keep my breasts big to the detriment of my own comfort. I’m sure not all men (haha x infinity) would be opposed, but I didn’t want any pressure from sources that didn’t understand what it felt like to be in my body.

So, what was surgery and recovery really like? Well, I was extraordinarily nervous about the whole thing. They wheel you down to the operating room wide awake. The anesthesia team takes you from there, but my goodness those moments before it kicks in were the worst. After a 3-4 hour surgery and a bit of recovery time in the hospital, I was sent home for two weeks to heal. It really wasn’t so bad. I got along just fine without prescription pain killers (thank you Motrin). The two worst things for me were 1) the drains I had for the first week and 2) sleeping on my back.

As for the first, I had a drainage tube coming out of each side. They were long and unwieldy, and I had to be careful not to accidentally sit on one or snag them on doorknobs and such. My mom – my iron stomached caregiver saint – was the one to clear the drains twice a day for a week, measuring the output of each and recording it for my physician. We found after the first attempt (during which I almost fainted) that I needed to hold the origin point of each drain while distracting myself with YouTube videos. It worked well. They were removed after a week (quite painfully, but I just wanted them GONE). I was finally free to shower, praise be.

The sleeping thing was tricky. I never, ever sleep on my back and I knew it would be a struggle. I tried pillows under my legs and lower back. I tried propping myself up. I ended up with legs falling asleep and pinching sensations. What finally worked was sleeping on my couch for a few weeks. Somehow that density and configuration allowed me some rest.

In reality, healing took much longer than the two weeks I’d mentioned above. This is a major surgery, and I’m not making light of it. I believe it was around the six-week mark I was able to start sleeping on my side again. Heaven! Time kind of blurs together after that, but it was in January 2021 that I was released to wear and do whatever I wanted (within pandemic reason). I continued to have some stitches work their way out. Some sore spots and weirdness. But I am happy to say I had no major complications. By early spring I was comfortable.

I wanted to wait until I’d had time to heal to write about this. My scars – though faint – will always be around. I really don’t mind them. It took time to get used to my body now and how my belly no longer hides behind pendulous appendages. I was already very used to body image struggles pre-surgery, so perhaps I’ve adjusted better than some. The only downside, to be quite TMI honest, is some continued numbness (as is fairly common with large reductions). All considered, I would do it again in a heartbeat.

I’ll leave things there for now. I feel better. Clothes fit more proportionally. I’m able to exercise easier. I don’t have rashes any longer. Hell, I don’t always have to wear a bra! Last year was terrible in most ways, but it was great in this one way for me. Happy anniversary, Boobs 2.0.