Breast lift no implants; Samui, Thailand

So I have been cybersilent for almost a year, and meanwhile my boobs have been healing and, crucially, just not in my thoughts all that much. This, if anything, is a great result - normality. Like most people, I just don't think much about the girls.
As for the results - pictures attached (apologies, not great lighting, but I hope you can see what's going on). Scarring is there, obviously, but very much better than even optimistic I would have thought after a year - yes, you can see there's been work, but it's not the first thing you notice. Unlike the 'before' pics, they hold their shape up by themselves - this is what I notice. They look like boobs now, rather than sad sacks of longing and shame. This means such simple, important things to me: the postman rang the door the other day at 7am, and I answered in my pjs without having to put a bra on first; I went camping a few weeks ago and was able to get up and wander around in the morning with a top and no bra on - and didn't feel self conscious. Little, important differences like that are why this is all absolutely worth it.
However, yes. It is possible to be critical too. The nipples are way too high. The boobs have kind of bottomed out - evenly, at least - leaving a rather curious shape and the nipples perched high up on the summit rather than mid way up the hillside. Over time, I imagine, the sagging will set in again and the nipples will stay sky high - and eventually this will be too weird. But for now, ok, it's a little odd but it's way, way, way better than before. The trick, I think, is to go for better rather than perfect - no other aspect of any if our post-40 bodies is likely to be perfect, after all. So although I suspect that one day I'll be back under the knife again, sigh, I'm still glad - absolutely glad - I had this done. Weird to think its a couple of weeks til the one-year anniversary - feels like such a long time ago that I had to deal with such awful droopy pre-op shamefulness. The past year has just been easier, on so many levels - bras fit better (no overhang), clothes hang better (higher, rounder boobs), I can go braless without discomfort (though I try not to too much, as I'm aware that gravity continues to exert its effect, sigh!) and I can turn over in bed without everything smushing together. Small, practical, comfort-oriented differences.
As for life more generally - the thing with the guy fizzled - it turned out that he had some druggy issues he'd failed to mention - but ok, it was nice for the time it lasted, and now there's another possibly-maybe guy in my life, but to be honest I'm really celebrating being single now. To get into anything it would have to be much better than singledom, and singledom is very good - so hmmm. In other news: I've put on weight, which sucks. It's mainly due to overwork/not exercising enough/eating on the run/comfort eating to sooth feelings of stress/burnout. Right now I'm away from home and taking some time to reevaluate work-life balance and think about my priorities in the next few months. One of these must be weight/fitness/health.
And: Right now I'm on day one of another long haul trip (Nicaragua this time - I love that travel is still such a big part of my life/identity - this time it's research related, but with a bit of play thrown in too). Out of home/routine, I'm taking time to remember who I am. Updating on this site it something I've been meaning to do for a while and so, jetlagged, here I am. Thanks for reading :)

I know, I know. It has only been a few weeks since the operation - six weeks to the day, in fact (seems soooo much longer; what a massive emotional 'journey', seriously). My boobs are still healing, morphing, shifting; deciding how they're going to end up. I should hold on before buying anything as fitted as a new bra (ahem, let alone six new bras... teehee) because there will still be a lot of change yet to happen. I get it. And yet, seemingly, I am choosing to suspend all this good advice, as I spent several hours and a couple of hundred bucks on Thursday outfitting my new boobs with new bras. And wow, things down there are looking good! I know I might have to start again later on with bra shopping, but I firmly believe that part of body confidence is enjoying the body I have right now, without waiting on the never never of some future state in order to live fully. And so, on Thursday, I shopped.

I started off at the specialist and rather swanky Bras N Things (BNT), where the very lovely, and herself fabulously plus-sized, Naomi measured me up and proclaimed 16E (this is Australian size; I think the US/UK equivalent would be 38E). This is gratifying - previously I'd been hauling myself into a compromised, apologetic Target Kirsty (the only style that worked at all) in size 18DD. So to go down a body size and up a cup size - well, there's nothing wrong with that, is there ;-) We chatted as she measured me and I tried on a whole bunch of different styles, and I told her about the surgery. She was fab - she used to work in the Bondi store and has seen a lot of women who have had a lot of work done. She reassured me that my breasts, which feel rather hard and knotty underneath, will certainly soften up in the coming weeks. And she said that although, yes, the nipples *do* look a little high, this is the result of things dropping back into place underneath and is to be expected to some extent. She was great; I hadn't thought of going to chat with a bra fitter about what to expect from breast surgery recovery, but she was one of the most experienced and knowledgeable people I've spoken to yet. And, as she herself was at least a size 20 (UK; American 16, maybe more), I didn't feel at all that I was being body shamed by some skinny Minnie sales chick. In fact, I felt da sisterhood, and it was a marvel.

Anyway, I tried on many beautiful bras and I selected one - the blue and white one in these pics - and handed over my $60. This is my most expensive bra purchase I think ever, though not wildly expensive in the grand scheme of things. But, oh my, is my new favourite thing - seriously - such a good fit, and I feel so confident and feisty and ballsy whenever I put it on. I resisted simply buying an armful of exactly this type in different colours - I'm still shifting, changing, morphing, I get it. But wow. Sexy. Hot. Love it!

So then, armed with an indication of my new size and with a newfound knowledge of the kinds of styles and fits that might work for me now, I took myself off around the mall and picked up Stripey, Flowery, Pink, Strapless, and Black. (Along with Sexy, I just need one more and I'll have a kind of seven dwarves of bras, hmmm. Project!) They ranged in price from $8 (BigW, on special, very nice) to about $30 (strapless, which magically supports invisibly and allows for the wearing of both halter tops and bandeau styles, neither of which I could ever have considered before - roll on summertime!)

I'm still unsure of the naturalness of how things are looking - the base of each breast has dropped quite a bit, causing the nipples to look like they're star-gazing and causing the nipples to sit very high up in bras and tops - I awake most mornings to them peeking out of the sports bra-style crop tops that I sleep in for support (hello nipples! Good morning to you!) But I'm aware, also, that it is early days and that there's a ways to go yet with the recovery. I await.

Meanwhile, my GP has referred me to a plastic surgeon this coming Thursday, to discuss whether this is a normal part of the post-breast-lift process and, if not, what some solutions might be. I obviously don't want to start over with any more surgery, particularly in Australia, which seems to be the most expensive place on earth to do this kind of thing. But I really could do with knowing a little more and so a $250 PS consult is probably worth it for a clear understanding of the possibilities and likely prognosis from here on in. I feel a bit dismayed at all of this, as you'd expect, but even with this 'star-gazing' issue, my breasts are many hundreds of times better than before, and so for that I'm grateful.

Meanwhile, the healing of the incisions is coming along nicely, still. I saw my doctor on Tuesday and I'm no longer bandaged up at all, which means I can shower easily and properly and that I don't have to faff about at the medical centre every two days getting the dressings changed in a sterile environment. I like being able to walk around my apartment with no top on, and I like the feeling that my boobs are holding themselves proudly aloft as I do so. They certainly never did that before, and I used to have to wear a bra, purely for comfort, all my waking hours, including just lolling and reading on the sofa or making a cup of tea. Now, it feels, my boobs are taking care of themselves.

It has now been a month and three days - the stitches are out, the pain is almost entirely gone, my boobs look and feel a thousand times better than they did (though still somewhat unusual in their shape and scarring - certainly it is clear that there has been 'work' and that they are not simply nature's bounty - perhaps this will always be evident? I'm ok with that if so - I feel so, so much more body confident that I EVER did before, and that was the point of this entire adventure!) I can just about lie on my front (hello, massages!) and I'm slowly regaining strength and stamina, although I still feel out of shape compared even to six weeks ago.

On a deeper and somewhat more spiritual level than the aesthetics of these boobs or any other boobs, I'm feeling awed and humbled by my body's ability (and willingness, after a wee bit of protest!) to heal itself. I've been mainlining protein and good, healthy veggies to the point where I feel I've actually put on a bit of weight. But ok - once I get back to the gym I can deal with that. Meanwhile, my body has done a [RS bleep] incredible job and I'm just about healed. I feel ridiculously in awe of Mother Nature - I've never experienced anything medical before -never been in hospital, never dealt with illness, never broken a bone. And here I am, not even six weeks after major surgery, just about healed and sitting on the sofa in my knickers, sort of getting ready for work but actually dreamily writing this, feeling at last that I am in the body of a normal forty-year-old woman: far from perfect, indeed, but no longer burdened by the tremendous shame of the sad, sagging sacks of history that were there previously. It's not that I'm ashamed of my story - I've lost and gained weight and fought some big anxiety demons throughout my life, and I mostly won - it's more that I'd rather be in charge of my own narrative rather than have my body tell the story for me. Now, I feel like I get to be (and to construct and reinvent) myself as I want and need to, rather than being a prisoner of my past. It is quite, quite exhilarating :-) While my boobs are still a work in progress, my happiness is not.