I regress, back to the breasts. Their rise and fall started like this:
When they first showed up they were pointy and weird. I was in grade 6, and I didn't really like them too much. I hid them in big t-shirts, and wore my training bra awkward.
Then as they took on a shape, I noticed they got me attention. So I used them to get a little attention (at least I'm being honest).
Then I matured as much as a teenager could, and showed them at appropriate times only. In my day, if you were showing off the girls too much you were a slut. I didn't really want that label, plus I didn't feel the need for that attention I wanted just a few years earlier. (Now that's growth!)
In my early twenties, (or as I like to refer to them as my "club hopping days"), the girls made another appearance. Cleavage was the key to a great night.......and free drinks.(Once again, I'm just being honest)
Then as I grew into my mid twenties, and settled down a bit, the girls became more conservative. Classy cleavage if you may. (see, growth again!)
They stayed that way. Great tits, perky, happy.
Then I got pregnant, and shit did they get big. Like freakishly big. As if freakishly big wasnt big enough, once I had the baby and my milk came in.......holy fucking porn star tits.
I breastfed for 8 months, and they seemed to be doing pretty good. Maybe the girls were going to be ok after all!
And then I stopped breastfeeding.
And then they fell from grace.
I'm not going to lie to you gals that don't have a baby yet. It was a hard pill to swallow at first.
But nothing that couldn't be fixed.
You could go the surgery route. I've actually considered this, and I haven't completely knocked it off the table.
Or you could just throw those bad girls in a double push up bra, and get on with your life.
I'm choosing the double push up bra route. Plus I hear by the time I hit 80, I will be praying for these post breastfeeding tits.