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Meg-Boggs-image
Meg Boggs icon expert
Fitness
I gave birth to my daughter Maci on November 4th, 2017. It took us three months to achieve a successful latch. I exclusively pumped. My nipples bled. And we breastfed for only a few weeks before my boobs deflated and dried up. They sagged and pointed down at the ground at a much steeper angle than ever before. Oddly shaped, stretched, and marked. Everything about them had changed. I felt a whole lot of different ways all at once. From sadness to anger to guilt. But I knew this moment was important. So I sat down. Put on the saddest playlist I could find, cried my eyes out, and wrote a letter to my boobs. Here is what that letter said: To my hardworking boobs that did their best — At the beginning of this journey, you hurt me. I felt disappointed in you—in us. I was overwhelmed with sadness, anger, and confusion as to why you and I were failing at breastfeeding. I expected more from you. I expected us to work with one another and provide for Maci. For three whole months, I felt this pain. This discomfort. This awful misguided hate towards you. I held these feelings in and never once told you how I felt. I forced you to work overtime and pump out milk every 4 hours. I drained you. I made you bleed. I made you crack. I made you sting at the touch of water, at the touch of my bra, at the touch of anything. I forced you to produce bottle after bottle as you ached and throbbed. I cranked up my pumping intensity and shriveled you up. Then on January 29th, three months into our fighting and disagreements, you and I made it work. We both worked together and allowed Maci to latch on to us. We celebrated and cheered together as she gulped down our liquid gold. It was the moment I had been waiting for this entire time. The moment we had been arguing about and the moment I had been begging and pleading for you to help provide me. It was the first time that I felt thankful for you. Then on March 22nd, you and I had our final moment breastfeeding Maci. The last time we would experience this together. The time had come where you could no longer produce enough milk. My initial reaction was sadness. You and I wept together in the shower. I will always remember this moment because it was in this moment that I finally took the time to forgive you and tell you that you did such a good job. For the first time, I actually acknowledged your efforts. I couldn’t believe it wasn’t until just now that I did this for you. Thanked you and applauded all that you had done, had sacrificed, had felt and been through these last 5 months. So now I am here to tell you this, my beautiful, saggy, never-be-the-same-again boobs. I am so sorry. You deserve an award for what you accomplished because it meant everything to me. You tried so hard with everything you had to give and that will always be so special to me. You allowed me two whole months of a breastfeeding relationship with Maci. You provided me with these memories that will never be forgotten. I hope you will forgive me for waiting so long to let you know that I know you did your best. That your best WAS good enough. And that it’s okay. I still love you and appreciate you. I know I put you through a lot and you also didn’t expect for this to be so difficult. And I hope to learn from this experience so that next time, whatever might happen, you will know that I will do my best as well to accept whatever comes our way. We are in this together. Whether you thrive as udders or continue your normal fun bags role, life is too short to be upset about situations that are outside of our control. Thank you, boobs. For everything.
9 months ago
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S P
Super Mom of 3
I felt this! 💜....to our boobs! 🥂
5 months ago
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Jackie K
Mother, PA, wife, tired.
This made me cry it was so beautiful and so relateable
7 months ago
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ByHeart Team
ByHeart
We love this too!
5 months ago
ByHeart-Team-image
ByHeart Team
ByHeart
Meg, thank you so much for sharing this beautiful letter with us. What a wonderful idea to write a letter to our bodies that do so much for us (and our babies!).
9 months ago