Old CW: “My Eyes, My Eyes!”; New CW: “Wow. That had to hurt.”

Six months ago, Berger King rearranged my body so I could undress without causing psychological harm in others.

Well. Six months later, here we are.

Not. Quite. There.

Yet.

Let’s start with the girls, shall we? Good news – scars are healing. Under proper lighting (read: near darkness), the scars are barely noticeable. Recently, I visited another Certified Fitting Specialist, who, after hearing my story, didn’t want to tell me my new size for fear I’d “freak out.”

After assuring Gladys I wasn’t the freaking-out type, I signed several release forms and she dropped the bomb.

32D.

I kept saying, “Seriously?”

They’re perky. They’re comfortable. They’re super sensitive still, so please – just admire from a distance.

No squeezing.

No tweaking.

GENTLE HANDS!

They’re almost perfect.

“Are you sure I’m that big?”

Certified Fitting Specialists don’t like to be questioned.

Down to the tummy…

My scar remains quite noticeable and quite hideous. I’m comfortable naked only because there’s no flab. Let’s face it, if Husband didn’t take off after seeing two babies pulled out from inside me then he ain’t goin’ nowhere anytime soon. Right? Of course right.

Tummy itself is still numb. Tingly.

Seriously. You down there – can’t feel a thing.

The ends of the scar get itchy from time to time. Swelling continues around my middle.

So not hot.

Dr. Berger’s gonna have a look-see when I’m home for Thanksgiving.

I’d like to look normal. That’s all.

Healing is a painstakingly slow process, folks. But then – it’s only been six months.