Getting to know my new breasts

I was told to was a shy and quiet girl, but once my breasts started to develop, my self-confidence blossomed as well. By my sophomore year in high school, I was given the nickname Miss Black Dolly Parton. I know that many full-busted girls and women are made to feel self-conscious, but I have always loved my big, beautiful breasts. Sure, it was difficult to find clothes that fit properly, and sometimes my shoulders ached from carrying around the extra weight, but I never really minded. My breasts made me feel womanly.

As I got older, they got considerably larger--size double F--but the thought of having breast-reduction surgery never crossed my mind. Then in January 1988 I was suddenly faced with that possibility.

I had just relocated from Kentucky to Boston for work and was living in a very elegant rooming house as I adjusted to the city. During a routine breast examination, I discovered a mass in my right breast. A biopsy later revealed my greatest fear. I was 47 years old and I had breast cancer--the same disease that had killed my mother when she was around my age.

Since my mother's death I had volunteered with the American Cancer Society and learned as much about the illness as I could. I was a registered nurse. I understood everything the doctor had said. But none of that made my diagnosis any easier.

My breasts had always been my hallmark, and I couldn't imagine my life without them. Just thinking about having my breast removed made me feel as though part of me was dying. But after I got over the initial shock of the diagnosis, I decided to have a mastectomy, because saving my life was the most important thing. Although the cancer was only on the right side, I opted to have both breasts removed in what's called a bilateral mastectomy, because it would be difficult to reconstruct the right breast to match the size of the remaining one. The day l went in to have my surgery I wore a blouse with a plunging neckline. After all, this would be the last time I would be able to show off my cleavage. The good news was that I could have my breasts reconstructed from tissue taken from my belly, which would give me a tummy tuck as well. I would have a figure that most of my middle-aged friends would envy.

I was so anxious the day my bandages came off after the double mastectomy that I helped the doctors remove them. To my surprise, I was fascinated rather than dismayed by my appearance. It was like really seeing myself for the first time. To allow time for my incisions to heal, my doctor recommended I wait six months before undergoing the reconstructive surgery. During the waiting period, I was given a temporary prosthesis--fake breasts that fit in my bra--to wear.

One night, not long after the surgery, I sat on the edge of my bed at home for almost two hours, agonizing over whether I should put on my prosthesis to go to the communal bathroom down the hall. I was paralyzed with self-doubt. What would the other women at the rooming house think when they saw me flat-chested? Many of them did not know I had breast cancer. How would they react?

Suddenly, a feeling of calm enveloped me, and a soft voice whispered to my spirit, "Get up! You are alive. Just get up and go!" I got up, put on my gown and slippers and walked--flat-chested and proud--to the bathroom. I realized that I was alive and that was all that mattered. Months later I had the tummy tuck and the breast-reconstruction surgery. I still laugh when I think about how, in less than a year, I went from a double F to a zero to a C cup.

Last year I met Frederick Williams, a wonderful and loving man who appreciates all of me. I truly believe that my reconstructed breasts are beautiful, and Frederick agrees. We got married in August 2001, and I've never been happier.

Augusta Hicks Gale-Williams, author of Older Than My Mother: A Nurse's Life and Triumph Over Breast Cancer (Ananse Press), lives with her husband in Massachusetts. Sylvia Dunnavant is the author of Celebrating Life: African American Women Speak Out About Breast Cancer (Black Pearl Publishing).

COPYRIGHT 2002 Essence Communications, Inc.
COPYRIGHT 2002 Gale Group