Something For Me

After giving birth to my two oldest sons my body would never be the same again. I was mostly concerned about the fact that my breast had shrank down to an A cup. As vain as it sounds the realization that my breast were now small and ugly threw me into a deep depression. I began hiding, only getting dressed in the dark and crying while in the shower. People say you should be happy with what you are given, but they are not me. The search was on, I wanted breast implants. I started by checking around for plastic surgeons with great reputations. I talked to other women who had the surgery. I had no idea how many different types of surgical procedures or how many different types and shapes of implants exist or how many places on the body the doctor could make an incision for the surgery. I found a doctor in Noblesville, Dr. Christopher Jones, he had the qualifications I had been searching for. I did not want someone who made their living doing nose jobs and fixing boobs all day. I wanted a doctor who did mostly reconstructive surgery not just cosmetic. Money was the next obstacle. The entire surgery from start to finish would be $4200. WOW ! And for an extra $125 I would be able to purchase a life-time guarantee on the bags that held the saline. It would also cover operating room fees, anesthesia, and surgical cost for ten years. If nothing ever goes wrong, saline implants can be left in forever or until you choose to have them removed. Although my fiance' thought it was stupid for me to get this done he agreed to pay for it anyway. My first visit was so exciting. The doctor measured my frame and chest to see what type of implant would fit me best. Luckily, since my nipple placement was the same as the average college age girl who had not had children yet I would not have to have them lifted. The doctor explained that he would only allow me to have between 375cc and 425cc of saline because he refused to let a women weighing 105 with a small frame have breast too big for her body. February 21,2003 was the day, it couldn't arrive fast enough. I walked to the operating room and the nurse had me lie back on a table that looked as if they were going to crucify me. The doctor had choose to do the endoscopic approach, which means the incision would be made under my armpit. The bag would be rolled up, placed under my pectoral muscles, and then filled with the saline. The nurse strapped my arms down, the anesthetic was given, and I started counting backwards from 100. I woke not with pain, but with absolute excitement. My insecurities about my breast were gone.