I have never before been so obsessed with my breasts. Even in the aching days of adolescent tremors, struggling with taunts and derision over not big enough/too big I was not so aware of them. Being a food source for a wee human is extremely strange on so many levels. I am Goddess incarnate, a magician producing life giving sustenance of my own body. What a sublime joy to wallow in, my baby, nursing away in utter contentment until she drops languid into sleep, milk still clinging to the curve of her cheek. But I guess the thing is, mainly, that they are huge.