This is me laughing my head off. Which is pretty much what I've been doing all morning since I found out the The Lump is A BLOB OF FAT. Yep.
F-to the beautiful-A-T. It's not even a "real" lump.
"You've breastfed FIVE babies?" the tech asked, her mouth hanging open.
"Yes."
"I can see they've really sucked the life out of you!" she proclaimed, staring at the image on her screen.
Well, I guess that's one way of putting it. But I laughed, anyway.
"Yeah, this isn't even a real lump. This is soft like a...blob of fat."
And then they shuttled me off for a mammogram which was unpleasant but not torturous. After all, I've birthed five human beings. I can handle two smashing metal plates. Still, as I was standing there, breathing and praying my way through it, I had this sudden revelation: MEN HAVE IT SO EASY.
As soon as I thought that, I retracted it. Because if I had to provide for seven human beings, I think I would rather have a mammogram. Any day.
"You're all clear!" they told me and I fairly skipped out of that back room and into the arms of Matthew.
"It's just fat!" I laughed. "It's just fat!"
We hugged and kissed. And then he took me out for lunch.
I've been doing a happy dance about fat, glorious fat, oh beautiful, beautiful FAT ever since.
And now I'm off to celebrate by baking Valentine's Day brownies for my FIVE BABIES. With extra fudge syrup, of course.
And thank you to everyone for the encouraging comments, emails, texts and prayers. I've been humbled by the outpouring of love. Thank you. THANK YOU!
