It's way more than a boob job

This post is going to get long...and "feely" ok...and sarcastic...and talk about my boobs so if this is not your bag - move along. I'll do something lighter soon (promise). Also, this is NOT meant to be any sort of "poor Hannah" post at all. However, I think it's important to talk about some of the harder stuff in this process too. And yes - there are bigger deals and sicker people and major more things for me to be concerning myself with - I completely acknowledge this - but I also think it is necessary for me to share what I honestly felt. The good, bad, and ugly. 

People keep saying "You're so brave". I don't feel brave - that statement makes me feel weird. I'm not a terribly brave person (ask my Mom - I slept with the lights on until I was in college). I feel logical - I mean if someone said "Hey you - You have an 80-90% chance of getting struck by lightning" - would you go play in the rain? I didn't think so either. So I don't feel brave - I feel like I'm doing what any other person would probably do. The brave people are the women (and some men) that sit with me at the MDACC breast and reconstructive centers with no hair, still working or taking care of their families or living their lives. Those are the brave ones and they amaze and inspire me every time I'm there.

So in that light - I would be lying if a little part of me didn't think "Sweet!  Free boob job Insurance covers a boob job!" after I got my results. Like every girl ever to breathe air - I've always had body image issues you see and thought "hey - maybe this is a way to address just one of my insecurities". (and if some girl tells you she's never struggled with any kind of body image issue - she's lying - she's actually a he...double check that for reals).

I hit puberty really early and went from pointless trainer bra to a 34C all during 5th grade. And those brand new lady lumps were not only asymmetrical (I have almost a full cup size difference between them - one side being a full C, the other a pretty full D and stretch marks to boot) but were accompanied by some bad skin, worse teeth and wait for it...a perm. Oh yes - nothing says "cool girl" more than being the only middle schooler shopping for real bras, 7 years of braces (don't forget the head gear!! x2!!), acne to rival a Pizza Hut supreme ad, that box of lucky charms a day gut "baby fat" that hung around,  perm curls to make Annie think twice about a flat iron and...band. Oh yes - I was a vision in my early 90's overalls and jellies. 

Adolescence was - um- shall we say a terrible awful no good very bad decade bumpy time for me (as it is for all I know). This is not to incur pats on the back or encouraging comments. It's there to say 
1) Thank you Mom for always loving me and spurring me on to be my best no matter what especially during challenging times 
2) Never get a perm...just...don't... 
3) To give you background as to where I was coming from going in to this process
4) Put a cyber-prayer out there for all to see that if Alex and I ever have kids that they are much more him than me in the adolescent looks department

Fast forward 15 years and the asymmetry twins and I went to my first plastic surgery appointment at MDACC. Me, being the "pollyanna" type that I am thought something to the effect of "in and out - new boobs by fall...No.Big.Deal." They explained the two stage process to me. Very simply put:
Stage 1: Complete bilateral mastectomy (remove all the breast tissue) and place tissue expanders behind the pectoral muscle
In Between: After a few weeks of healing, go in and have the tissue expanders expanded until you reach the size you want
Stage 2: Go back in and exchange tissue expanders for implants...and reconstruct the nipples

(Enter my internal reaction: "Hold on...did I miss something?!? The nipples? Where do the nipples go?? Excuse me?!? WTF!! What did I just get myself into..." External Reaction: "Hmm. Uhh...well thank you for that information Dr. It has certainly given me much to think about." Nice save HB..nice save)

My plastic surgeon explained everything to me, told me to think about it and we would meet again in a few weeks to make a plan. Here's where things started to fall apart for me a bit. Even though to most everyone I tried to stay firm in my "I'm fine - it's no big deal...really!" - a big part of me was freaking.out. I struggled immensely with not being able to keep my own nipples and have written more pros/cons lists regarding nipple sparing vs nipple reconstruction than I care to admit to. I struggled with how my precious husband who I know unconditionally loves me would view me after surgery. Would I still be attractive to him? Would I still be attractive to myself even or would I just see a very perky bride of frankenstein (I realize this is a bit of an exaggeration but if you know me you know I am no stranger to that)? Those were my main hang ups but the list goes on...you get the picture. On top of that - I felt truly GUILTY for feeling that way. Why did I feel so stressed/freaked out about this when THOUSANDS of women and men each day not only face this process but are also treating freaking CANCER. That's not fair - I should be a lot stronger than this. It ate me up inside. I felt very superficial and silly to be hung up on something so...well...cosmetic. In the same breath I felt so blessed to be able to do something preventative that would allow me to hopefully not be one of those amazing, inspiring, bald post chemo patients in the waiting room with me. It's moments like these that Satan really knows how to expose and dig into insecurities you felt were long gone. 

So on one afternoon after a particularly crazy day at work - a very dear friend and fellow SLP who has had her own major health journeys this year did something amazing for me. Because of her own journey, she (probably unknowingly) was one of the few people in this world that I was really listening to and taking what she had to say seriously. And she wrapped her arms around my neck, gave me the biggest hug and told me that it was ok for this to be a big deal. That it was ok for me to be sad or grieve it or be stressed or anxious about it. And that it was ok to look forward to what came next. But in any case - it.was.ok and this.is.a.big.deal. I don't know if she knew at all the amazing gift of peace she had given me that day. I don't put people on blast by name but girlfriend - you know who you are - and I am so thankful for you. 

To all my ladies who have listened to me, talked it out with me, danced it out with me and loved me up to this point - Thank you. Thank you Lord for girlfriends. The real ones. The ones that see your messy house, your no make up face, your dirty hair or that questionable outfit you bought because it was on sale and love you anyways and pour truth into your life you didn't even know you needed to hear. Thank you Lord for that. How did you know we needed that so desperately? Good One God. 

So I started really processing everything. I went home, had a good cry, and started moving forward. And today - I feel good. (**TMI ALERT** I decided to go with nipple sparing by the way - I don't have cancer and I'm taking the risk of keeping my own nipples - nipple reconstruction freaked me out too much. If you are going through this and want to have a deeper conversation regarding this decision I am happy to. Comment or email me)

So this is a big deal, and that's ok. Bring it on lumpy ladies - you're about to get a big ole facelift and I have total peace about it. The Lord works it that way. It's going to be a process but I'm ready. Bring.It.On and Thankyou Lord that this is something that is available to me. I am truly too blessed to be stressed. CanIGetAnAmen?!?

Final Thoughts:

Haha - not really...but seriously

Never gets old.

Finally The End