Pregnancy changes things, and not always for the better. Alanna says goodbye to a pair of friends she’ll miss dearly from now on. Not for the faint of heart…

I woke up the other morning, during the last 30 odd days of this pregnancy, and realized my boobs were HUGE.

Again.

Granted this usually goes part and parcel with the whole ‘I’m pregnant’ thing, but sometimes you just have to look down at yourself in your now too-tight bra with piles of cleavage heaping out of your shirt and ask your body if this is really all that necessary.

Do they really have to be become HUGE? I can settle for just big, but HUGE? Really?

Now, I have always been well endowed. Okay that’s not completely true; it wasn’t until the twelfth grade that my girls decided to really… “bloom” and as a result I made sure I spent the better part of my twenties showing them off.

Unfortunately by twenty seven (after the first baby) what was once cute and perky were now just the remnants of HUGE that lingered and sagged south. Sexy, I know.

And yet, of all the things I have lost (or gained) while getting pregnant and having babies over the years – and believe me I could make a list – I think I miss my little pink areolas the most.

Now I’m not sure if this is some part of a secret mom pact, or something that was kept exclusively from me prior to getting pregnant that fist time, but nobody ever told me that what were once cute little disks on the peak of each breast were going to become giant brown saucers I could literally serve with tea cups.

Would you like milk with that?

I have to admit I felt a bit cheated. I knew about the stretch marks, the swelling, the weight gain, even the hemorrhoids, but nobody ever told me to say goodbye to my little areolas…

Now I try lying to myself believing that after breastfeeding they, like the rest of my body would return to normal once again, but so far, four years later with yet another one on the way, they have yet to go back to their original shape or color.

Oh how I miss that cute pink hue.

So now at night as I lay in bed, boobs tucked, snuggling into either armpit, I am reminded of the good old days when the girls stayed on top looking out into the world so innocently. And I think to myself about a time before the need for bras, when I couldn’t hold a cell phone under my left boob, and I think fondly of those two pink little disks and feel it my duty to let the world know that they won’t be coming back.

I’m sorry, but someone had to tell you.