A Conversation With My Breasts

You were late showing up.

And now you’re leaving the party early.

In keeping in tune

with my Leo personality,

You are quite whimsical, aren’t you?

Because this change came out of nowhere! 

From the time of my birth, 

I’ve ridden the wave of life, 

Successfully, I like to think. 

Through childhood and adult abandonment, 

Through spinal meningitis at age 7.

Through being kidnapped.

Through being hit by a car. 

Through being run over by a tractor.

Through sexual and physical and emotional abuse.

Through an airplane crash that killed my father and beloved brother.

Through cheating husbands and divorce,

Through loss of job and through struggle,

Through all this,

I’ve taken the lemons I’ve been given

And made a lemonade 

That would make anyone’s mouth water.

Life has been GOOD! 

And now you hand me this huge sack of lemons 

And ask me to make lemonade,

Again. 

Well, it’s gonna be difficult, 

But I’m going to give it my best shot! 

Oh you beauties, 

I have such wonderful memories of us!

You and I!

Our life together!

You showed up late, as I said earlier.

My younger cousin, Janie,

Touted a bra at 8.

I was so jealous I could have screamed.

She called me "honey" and "sweetie,"

and I felt lesser.

She flaunted it and made me hate her;

She shouldn't have gotten breasts before me!

I think I was around 11 when I noticed the

Two tender buds swelling from my chest.

And from the time you first blossomed,

I loved you dearly.

Then I began to share you.

The first to adore you was a boy named Dave,

(Or was it Wayne?)

In a haystack in the barn,

(Or was it in the backseat of a bright yellow Chevy?)

After a half century, the details run together, but,

Wherever it was,

I remember being exhilarated! 

Electrified!

Whoah! 

This was a GOOD thing! 

You rocked my world! 

It was the beginning of a long and wonderful life

 Together. 

You and I. 

You and I. 

You and I. 

Us.

You brought me the most extreme pleasure.

I loved looking at you in the mirror.

Two beautiful mounds, growing each year,

Until you settled into a comfortable 34-B cup.

Then came pregnancy. 

Holy Hell! 

You GREW! 

You SWELLED to a giant 40-D 

You were HARD and ANGRY and full of milk 

Ready to feed a hungry child. 

That was the only time you caused me pain. 

And it was only for a day or two, 

Until we settled into a feeding schedule, 

But dang, that was crazy!

I remember

Those days,

The feeling of my milk “coming down.”

There’s nothing like it.

A tingle that begins high in the chest,

Then sparkles down to the nipples,

And causes milk to spurt out 

Unexpected and uninvited. 

A time of wet blouses,

Laughter,

Joy.

I remember nursing my children.

You did such a great job!

There has been nothing sweeter than gazing 

Down at the face

Of my sweet newborn babies

As they tugged hungrily at you.

You provided life,

Food, for a brand new being.

It blew my mind.

Three times I was given this pleasure. 

Three sons took sustenance from my body, 

I was only able to do it because of you. 

YOU did that. 

Years passed and we had a wonderful life together! 

I remember other fun times with you. 

Sexy tops with plunging necklines. 

Bikinis and crop tops. 

Topless sun bathing in the beautiful Caribbean

and in the hot tubs of Bakersfield. 

Loving caresses from husbands and lovers. 

The delight you have given me 

Has been indescribable. 

Beyond anything I could ever dream of. 

I just want to thank you so much

For all the joy, pleasure, and life we have shared.

We have been quite a team!

You have been remarkable!

You never aged.

You never sagged or changed.

You stayed beautiful and plump and sensitive.

And I have loved you so much.

I still love you.

And then, out of nowhere, 

On Christmas 2019, 

You gave me a gift that wasn’t on my list. 

Laying in bed, a cold night, 

I ran my hands up the left side of my body and felt 

Something that shouldn’t be there. 

A lump. 

A LUMP! 

A lump? 

WTF? 

What WAS that? 

A bit of panic. 

Doctor appointment. 

Mammogram. 

Ultrasound. 

Biopsy. 

Diagnosis. 

Papillary Invasive Carcinoma. 

Double mastectomy. 

First “What?” 

Then "Really?" 

Then "Where the hell did THAT come from?" 

I eat clean. 

I exercise. 

I don’t smoke or drink or do drugs. 

Then “Why?” 

Then "What caused it?" 

Did I bump myself in the bad fall I took 

Two years ago?

Could this be something I manifested

From the deep sorrow of being abandoned by people 

I poured my soul out to,

People I nurtured and taught and loved so deeply,

Who turned on me like wolves,

Who lied about me,

Who twisted my motives,

Then walked away and broke my heart?

Did it grow from the deep pain in my breast I felt 

When this disloyalty reared its ugly head, 

Knocking me to my knees in painful disbelief? 

Or did I create this myself? 

Do this myself? 

To myself? 

To you? 

Or could it be a result of the chemical-laden environment we live in. 

The airplanes spraying the sky, 

The autos spewing their filth into the air,

The poisoned water and food,

The fragranced laundry products I can’t escape from.

There’s just no way of knowing.

Nobody to blame.

Not even myself.

It just “is.” 

Well, no use crying over spilt milk, as they say. 

Bootstraps, it’s time! 

Let’s take these fucking lemons 

And make some lemonade! 

Yes, I’ll miss you two more than you’ll ever know. 

Mostly I’ll miss the pleasure you give me. 

I look down at you, and you still look perfect. 

You are beautiful! 

I heft you in my two hands and squeeze you, 

And you still FEEL perfect. 

I run my fingers over your nipples, 

And you still respond, like magic. 

And THAT electrifying feeling 

is what I’ll miss most.

That part makes me very sad.

Sometimes I feel like I’m stuck in the Twilight Zone.

But no staying sad.

Yes, I’ll miss you. 

But I’d miss this wonderful life more!

Doc said 50% chance of a recurrence 

With just a lumpectomy or single mastectomy, 

And only 1%-3% with a double mastectomy. 

Well, the “double” it is. 

Onward and forward.

No more looking back.

And now, here we are, 

Coronavirus pandemic looming,

Nine days and counting.

I’ve ordered plaster cast material.

I’m going to make a cast of you,

Paint it, and hang it on my wall

In memory

Of you.

I’ll make it bright and perky and colorful, 

Like you have been. 

In this way, you can continue to give pleasure, 

To me as well as to others,

Just in a different way.

Oh, you two wonderful old friends.

You whimsical, bouncy, bubbly old friends!

We've spent 67 wonderful years together!

And now, you’ve thrown me for a loop.

I surely wasn’t ready for this.

But the time is nearly here

For you to take your leave forever. 

Nine days and counting. 

I’m going to miss you. 

I’m going to miss you. 

I’m going to miss you! 

Love Forever, 

Annie