No breasts. No areoles. No nipples. A flat chest. Long, red scars. Loose skin. Tears. Fears. Brokenness. This was the beginning not the end.
Two years later, I can look at myself naked in front of a mirror and smile. And that’s why nipple reconstruction was worth it!
Since November 23, 2014, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to adjust to a new normal. Sometimes that new normal has been an improvement over the old normal, but at other points in this process it’s been so ugly I just stopped looking in the mirror. I’d avoid being naked at all costs. And I’d hide from myself and my husband. I felt like a monster at times. A nightmare!
I nearly talked myself out of nipple reconstruction back in April. I didn’t want to go through another surgery. My brain was literally fried. My eyes literally tired. Surgery had made me weak. I was done. I looked at my new reconstructed boobies and felt they were good enough. Yet, I signed those papers and went back to surgery for nothing more than the appearance of a nipple. They won’t ever work again. There was absolutely nothing pretty or sexy about them. Oh, they were ugly! And painful! Weeks after the surgery was over I continued to question why in my right mind did I sign those papers. Weren’t my previously ugly boobs prettier than these? This wasn’t the boob job I’d signed up for!
My plastic surgeon and my husband could somehow see past all the ugliness and see the potential of beauty, or almost normal. If it wasn’t for them, I wouldn’t be where I am today. How a man can look at me and see what Jon makes me feel proves he loves me much more than I deserve!
Thursday night as I confessed my concerns to Jon, he told me I didn’t have to go through with it if I didn’t want to. I’m glad he said that. I don’t know why, but I’m glad he did. I woke up Friday morning and went to my appointment. The tattoo lady was hilarious and put me at ease right away until she asked me what color I wanted to be.
Ehhh…what? It’s been nearly two years since I’ve had areoles and nipples. How am I supposed to remember what color they were? No clue! I was speechless. I passed that question on to Jon. Poor guy. Thankfully, he took it like a champ and told the lady he thought camo would look good on me. Haha! Always the jokester. Anything to make me laugh through the tough stuff! I love that man!
We eventually came to a concenses. Who knows what it will end up looking like in the end, but right now they look pretty close to how I remember they once did. She worked her 3D magic and now I’m so thankful I went through that painful and nasty surgery to have those little pig intentstines stuck to my fake boobs so I could have fake nipples. Let me just say that my smile was so big it hurt when I saw my new nipples. Yes, they are fake. Yes, that’s just a tattoo. I don’t care. My brain only sees normal. And I’ve struggled to find normal again.
Boobs. Areoles. Nipples. All fake but seem so real. A sense of being complete again. Healed. The beginning of the end.