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Mominatrix

Mommy Mammaries

By Kristen Chase



After two pregnancies and a combined three years of breastfeeding, my boobs have definitely seen better days. Granted I’m not yet picking them up off the ground and tucking them into my elastic waist band pants, but a bra is definitely required at almost all times. In fact, the bra must be factored into all clothes purchasing decisions even pajamas, which for you small to moderately breast sized women used to be a no-brainer.

Tank tops with the little shelf bra? Yes please! Bathing suits with the support of a training bra? No problem.

And while I never was one to put much thought into the transition of sexy breasts to milky breasts since well, it just seemed like the thing that you do when you shoot a baby out of you, I’m definitely more aware of it now than ever before.

And apparently, so is my husband.

After a few minutes into our regular foreplay routine, my breasts were released from their holding cell and he decided to call my breasts “mommy mammaries.”

“What did you just call them?” I gasped, slinking back under the sheets.



“Well, um, that’s what they are, right?” he replied. “I mean, it’s not a bad thing.”

I suppose it’s one thing to realize that your breasts aren’t what they used to be – that what you used to flaunt in tight bra-less tops and low cut dresses have taken on a new unfamiliar form. But it’s a whole other ball game when you realize that your spousal unit is quite aware of the effects of motherhood so pleasantly displayed in your mismatched downward pointing breasts.

So after wiping my eyes and smacking him upside the head with my padded bra before quickly putting it back on, I thought about the whole idea behind “mommy mammaries” and why it offended me so much. Maybe it was because I was holding out hope that he put on his 24-year-old with bouncy tits glasses every time we fooled around. Or maybe it’s because I was holding out hope that my sagging boobs were just a figment of my pregnant hormonal haze.

The truth is that they sustained and nurtured my kids, much how nature intended it. And really, they weren’t necessarily created to be juggled in some dude’s face or used as a stand-in for butt cheeks or a vagina.

The female breast has become a hugely sexualized body organ, seemingly piquing here in the United States were the wee bit of cleavage sends parents rushing to cover their poor children’s eyes. Whereas most European countries tend to be more laissez-faire about the whole thing with boobs bobbing around on park benches and shopping malls, we’ve got our bras on so tight that I think it’s affecting our brains.

Add in the whole silicone nation where the norm is perfectly round and symmetrical grapefruits surgically attached to every other woman you pass on the street, and it’s no wonder post-partum women have a complex.

Clearly I’m not discounting the sexual nature of breasts or their role in the sex lives of most Americans. But what I am finding is that there are women, too many women in fact, that are turned off to breastfeeding and turned off to their own post-partum bodies not because their breasts are ugly, but because they’re holding tightly to this notion that perky breasts somehow equal sexy.

It’s not to say we can’t be disappointed that our once book shelf like rack needs a little assistance to hold up a cup of iced tea. But I’m thinking some ownership of this idea that just because my breasts aren’t what they used to be doesn’t make them any less beautiful.

I’ve decided to proudly flaunt the “mommy mammaries” regardless of whether I’ve got to drag them along the ground behind me, or use some type of strategic tape to attach them back up where they belong.

Because when it comes right down to it, they’re just a couple of boobs. Nothing more and nothing less.


You know you have questions for the Mominatrix -- come on, don't be shy, email them to mominatrix@imperfectparent.com. Identities are kept strictly confidential.


Kristen Chase left a job as a college music professor for her current career as stay-at-home-mother of three. When she's not perusing the local adult bookstores and foot fetish websites, she maintains several weblogs, including Motherhood Uncensored, Cool Mom Picks, and Parent Bloggers Network.

4 Responses to "Mommy Mammaries"

1. RubiaLala

Jun 06, 2008 01:13

Good for you! And he probably didn't mean to be mean by saying that. You say they sustained and nurtured YOUR kids - but they are his kids to, yes? And I'm sure he loves you and the twins even more for that.

2. Nicki

Jun 06, 2008 13:18

I wonder what it is like to have owned perky breasts. I think the last time mine had perk was around the 5th grade. In pregnancy I could literally have suffocated someone in them.

Ummm, I think I have small breast envy!!

3. AaronD

Jun 06, 2008 14:57

I love my wife's mommy mammaries. She started out having to deal with the daily bra issues because she was larger, so that wasn't a new thing. Still, they do change shape and direction but I still love them. Of course I got a great deal of joy out of them during the nursing phase also, so how could I not appreciate what the girls went through. Kristen, maybe that could be a topic of a future story. Something about teaching Dad to save some for Junior or cleaning up the sex induced let-down.

4. Stephanie

Nov 17, 2008 20:24

This reminds me of a conversation I had with a first-time mommy friend that was in the midst of milky-full, generous breasts. "What will they look like, you know, after?" she asked. I told her that the best description was that they turned into fried eggs. "Don't you mean boiled eggs?" She sounded a little scared at this point. "No way. FRIED eggs!" She believed me as I had nursed my kids for a combined total of 5 years.

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