My name is Kelly, and I work as a Research Assistant. I have a four-year-old at home. After my son was born, it’s incredible how much I accepted the parts of my body that I didn’t really like, especially the saggy, worn out breasts. They were part of me. They’re a part of my life with him. It was very hard to let them go.
I have had a mastectomy and a reconstruction. I didn’t know at the time, but I didn’t have cancer. It was high-grade DCIS. Due to the nature of the lump, the breast had to go. I decided to have a double mastectomy just because I knew I wouldn’t cope with being uneven.
After I had physically recovered from my final operation, I was out of the woods. I didn’t have cancer. I didn’t need radiation. I had to deal with the mental load. Every seven or eight weeks, I would have a breakdown. It probably took the second breakdown for someone to say that I was mourning. I guess mourning what I’d been through and mourning my old breasts, which sounds a bit silly, but it makes sense.
Some women can cope without getting a reconstruction after their mastectomy. They are so strong and so brave, but I knew right from the start I could not cope with that. I think that’s what other people might go through when they decide to get plastic surgery.
I feel good now. This year I’ve increased my workload and taken back a bit of my life – the normality of life I suppose. I feel vain sometimes because what I have on my chest serves no purpose other than to make me look and feel more womanly. They’re fantastic, but they’re not perfect. We’re very good at seeing the imperfections in our own body, but if I could accept my saggy, worn out breasts, I can accept these.