After having two kids, there were many things that I needed to “lift.” The bags under my eyes, the extra cushion around my waist, and my energy level. But one morning, as I stared at the reflection in the mirror, it was apparent to me that the thing that needed lifting the most was my chest.
As I dressed that morning, I tugged and pulled at the faded, black Gap T-shirt that didn’t quite seem to fit like it used to. I had recently quit breastfeeding my son. I no longer had my full, milk-producing breasts. I no longer had my perky, pre-pregnancy 20 something breasts. I didn’t consider my chest smaller than before, just lower. I needed something to improve my self-esteem and boost my mood. I smiled as the idea came to me. Thanks to a recent Oprah episode, I had just the solution to brighten my day.
After dropping my 3 year old off at preschool, I pushed the stroller that held my sleeping baby across the shiny tile floor of Nordstroms. As soft, soothing music played overhead, I made my way to the lace and silk in the lingerie department. As I began to get caught up in the relaxing atmosphere, I suddenly heard a screeching sound. “What is that noise?” I almost asked out loud, annoyed at the interruption of the peacefulness. I felt my ears burning as I realized that it was my stroller. The squeaking echoed through the quiet store until I reached the carpet. I started to maneuver my way around the displays that held delicate bras and panties. One of the large wheels on my stroller banged into a rack of lacey thongs, knocking several of them to the floor. I bent down and scrambled to pick them up. “What am I doing?!?” I thought to myself. “Go home. You don’t belong here. You have perfectly good sports bras at home.”
Just as I stood up with the intention of running out, I was greeted by a smiling sales associate, looking as perfect as the store itself. She was dressed in a suit, accented with just the right accessories. She had sparkly white teeth and flawless make-up. I couldn’t help but notice my own, causal appearance, in comparison to hers. I shifted my weight as I questioned if I had made a mistake in coming. But her voice was friendly and she had kind eyes behind her designer glasses.
“May I help you with something today?” She asked me politely.
“I..I..I think I need some new bras. And I don’t know where to start.” I quietly admitted.
“Let’s do a bra fitting and then we will select some styles that you can try.” She told me.
As we walked together, she complimented my baby and asked me about my day. As I followed her to the fitting room, I was already feeling more comfortable.
As she did the fitting, I found out that I was wearing the wrong bra size. My new bras would be smaller around and an entire cup size bigger! I could have hugged her! Just by walking in that store, my waist had become smaller and my chest was larger. It was a great day!
“What style are you wearing now?” she asked.
“Well….” I sheepishly said. I didn’t have to answer as she noticed the snaps at the top of my bra.
“Are you nursing?” She asked me.
“No,” I told her. “I stopped breastfeeding two months ago.”
“Then why are you still wearing a nursing bra?” I shrugged my shoulders like a teenager and looked at the floor. I didn’t have a good answer.
I spent over an hour trying on beautiful undergarments and finding just the right style to put my curves back up where they belong. My wonderful sales associate knew how to dress my body type and miraculously, my baby stayed asleep the entire time. I concluded my trip with the purchase of 3 new bras and 2 pairs of special matching panties. This place was like magic. I walked out of there with my shoulders straight, my head held high and feeling pretty again.
I had fallen into “Mommyhood” so far that I forgot how to pamper myself. It had been 2 ½ years since I quit working to stay home with my first baby. Our family made sacrifices to do so. I wasn’t in the habit of spending money on myself, especially not on clothes that no one would see. It felt good. I felt happy. It was just the lift (literally) that I needed.