Absolutely Delightful

This post is not illustrated for reasons that will soon become clear.

At some point after Muffin was born in 2007, a dime-sized nipple-colored spot on my breast just to the right of my areola appeared. No, I haven’t grown a third nipple. It actually doesn’t look bad cosmetically but I was worried that it might be something nefarious, so I made an appointment with the dermatologist to have it looked at. That was about 18 months ago. The dermatologist didn’t know what it was but said he wanted to watch it and asked me to come back in 3 months. Yeah, sure, you just want another look at my boobies a la “they’re real and they’re spectacular”. Ha! Kidding, of course. As some of you know post-lactation boobies deflate and need some time to fluff back up and I was in the “pre-fluff” stage. Anyways, I went back 3 months later and he still couldn’t tell me what it was but since it hadn’t grown or changed and it didn’t look like skin cancer to him he said to not worry about it but to come back if it did end up changing at all. That was 15 months ago. I wasn’t really satisfied and felt he was more of a cosmetic dermatologist with all his fancy lasers for all the Carmel Valley and Del Mar Yummy Mummy’s around here. Also, in the weeks since Madam Poopsalot was born I noticed a definite color and texture change. So, I got myself in to see a different dermatologist (we’ll call him Dr. S) about a month ago and unfortunately he wants to biopsy. He says it’s likely not skin cancer but he can’t be sure. Also it’s grown since the last dermatologist took a look at it…though much to my delight, so have my ta-tas as they are in nursing mode. He agreed to let me wait a couple of months before preforming the biopsy since I won’t be allowed to breast feed on that side for 10 days after the procedure. I am still debating whether or not to have it done since I am worried about it permanently interfering with breastfeeding and Madam Poopsalot is only 3 months old. I’ll let you know the outcome. Anyways, to the embarrassing part. The dermatologist says he would like to take a photo for his files and so he brings out his camera and holds it about 6 inches from my boob. All of a sudden I feel that familiar sensation and know I’m about to let-down. It’s nursing time for Madam Poopsalot and apparently my mammary glands can tell time (it’s the only thing punctual about me since becoming a mom of two). So, as I’m about to let out a warning cry, the floodgates open and out shoots an impressive spray and gets poor Dr. S’s camera. Oh yeah, it’s true. I wanted to crawl under a rock.