.::still blinking::.

Today, I destroyed my only bra today. Well, the only bra that fits properly. It is one that I have had since high school. If you had seen it, you would not have known it was that old. It was in great shape. Probably because I bought it and promptly grew out of it.

I have been a B/C cup most of my life, well I have been trying to be a C. I have liked that size. It is just enough, I feel. Not to big, not to small, just enough to be proud. This bra that I destroyed was a B cup, and it was beautiful in a lacy and pretty kind of way, not a I want to reveal it all way.

So, today as I was doing laundry I threw it in with everything else. I always wash them, but then I pull them out and let them air dry. However, when I went to get my clothes out of the washer, I found that I had thrown the arm hole around the agitator and all my clothes were nice and waded up on one side of the washer. I got all that I could out of the tight little ball of clothing. When I could get not more I had to go and get the scissors and cut it to pieces. It was wound that tightly. Sad.

So, I have been wearing my wash day bra all day today. I don’t know what the point of wearing it . It is the next closest one to fitting that I have, but I do not even come close to filling it. When jj got home we went to Target on a quick bra replacement mission. I went and picked out a bunch of B cup bras. Surely, if my C cup wash day bra was to big then a B will fit. Wrong was I. I was so ashamed. I tried on all the B bras that I had, the push up padded ones kind of fit. But I was horrified to find out that I was an A Cup!! I, the mother of a child, the one who has been proud of her bosom most of her life, looked down and realized that my lovely nursing cleavage was completely gone and that I did not fit into B cups.

I went back out of the dressing room with my tail between my legs and forced myself to find some A cups that would maybe make me not look even more like a 14-year old child. I tried on all the A cups and realized they were made for children who had not born children. I could not get my saggy boobs to even come close to staying in those perky things.

So I went for the mega push-em-up push-em-up way up B cup. When you look at me on Sunday and see them and think they don’t look that bad. Remember that most of that lovely shape is made by a bra that was filled with foam and held in shape by a metal form fitting cage. They are not mine.

Here are my measurements:
Two flat and saggy pancakes.
One hanging out stomach, as in it hangs out next to me on the bed.
One big bottom, I think this is where my bosoms have gone, they have just migrated south for the rest of my life.