Yay, I have big breasts!

I think everyone who has a small or no bust at all has wished at some point that they had bigger breasts. I have always had a small bust. On a good day, I could barely fill an A cup.

I have never had trouble getting boyfriends, nor have I felt psychologically distressed about it. It is not societal pressure that has made me want to enlarge my breasts. I simply appreciate nice, well-shaped, and appropriately sized breasts.

I can’t say that I’ve always wanted to have surgery because I didn’t always know that the option existed. When breast augmentation started gaining attention in the media, I began to play with the idea, but it never went as far as considering surgery. My initial reaction was, “Sure, the breasts will get bigger, but what about the risks? The cost? What will everyone else say about me?”

However, the thoughts became stronger and stronger; I started to become somewhat obsessed with breasts. I constantly talked about breasts with my friends, asked what size they were, and looked at other women to see what was considered “normal.” Yet, I didn’t dare to outright say that I wanted to have surgery. I thought I would somehow appear weak for giving in to vanity. I believed it would change how people viewed me.

I have also always been one to complain about everyone who has had surgery. Whenever Baywatch was on, my constant comment was, “I could look like that too if I had the money and was willing to have surgery, but I’m not that crazy.” So, it felt a bit hypocritical to criticize others for having silicone breasts and then go and do the same myself!
Anyway, I started systematically reading all kinds of magazines to get a fair perspective. Whenever there was a segment on TV, I was right there. Then I thought to myself whether I was really serious about these thoughts, and eventually, I realized that I was. There were many different thoughts and events that ultimately led me to want to have a breast augmentation, but two of them were the drops that overflowed the cup: my collection of padded bras. I had purple, blue, black, beige, big, small. One day, I stood looking at that bag and realized that somewhere along the line, something had gone wrong. I shouldn’t have to torture myself with these pads. The second was the worst: shopping for summer bikinis.

End of the secrecy

When I finally got tired of my own secrecy and realized that what mattered most was what I wanted, not what others thought, I felt it was time to take a step forward and tell my friends what I truly felt and thought.

It may sound like I made my decision in just a few months, but I had actually been thinking about this for many, many years before that. I never realized that I would actually have the opportunity to do this. Once I made up my mind, the sometimes daunting programs didn’t seem so scary anymore. I watched and listened carefully; it was like preparation. If I was going to do this, I was going to do it properly, meaning avoiding unnecessary risks.

When I told my friends, their reaction was positive, not at all what I expected. It turned out they were in agreement that they wished they were actually stronger so they could have breast augmentation too. I thought they would feel the opposite, but I was wrong. They didn’t try to talk me out of it. They knew me and understood that I had been thinking about this for so long that I probably knew what I was doing. They felt that if this was truly what I wanted, they were happy for me. The only thing they wanted was for me to contact the best surgeon, etc. My sister’s reaction was, “I want one too.” I thought it wouldn’t be easy since she is my older sister, but I was wrong there as well. As for my employer, I felt that it was none of their business to interfere in my life; this was simply too private. Since I knew I wanted a B/C cup and not larger, it would hardly make any difference in regular clothes, but in a bikini, though!

Research

I knew I wanted to have the surgery, but I still wanted to be very sure about what I was getting into.

I started reading even more articles. Everything I could find about breast surgery, books, and browsing the internet. I read and absorbed both positive and negative articles. Since the media often exaggerates, I filtered out the best and the worst and tried to assess the risks. In the end, I felt saturated; there was nothing new I could read in the magazines that I didn’t already know.

Then the thought came, – what if I have the surgery and regret it? But I read an article about a woman who had done it, and she said that once you make such a decision, you should never look back, and that felt right. I decided that I was so tired of myself, pretending that I had decided not to have surgery. I would give up all push-ups since they, in my case, created false illusions that led me to want larger breasts, and then everything was set in motion again. Then I gave myself a period to truly consider the idea of having surgery. It would be strange to want to go back to small breasts once I had large ones.

After those two weeks, I could only conclude that I wanted larger breasts, I could afford it, and I felt good. When I truly made up my mind, it felt like I was walking on clouds; my wish was about to come true! It felt so real. It was as if I had already had the surgery.

I mentioned that the risks worried me, and it’s no coincidence that I recently made this decision, as now we have better implants available.

As I have concluded from all the magazines, there are three types of implants: saline, silicone, and so-called gummy bear implants. Silicone was ruled out immediately, as I thought if something were to leak, it should be saline. On the other hand, I didn’t want two plastic bags filled with water—what if they burst and I became completely flat all at once? That wouldn’t feel good if I had to walk around worrying. I know many say that saline is the best, but once you’ve seen these implants and felt them, you realize that they can’t be the best. Both silicone and saline do not provide the same beautiful shape for the breasts as gummy bear implants do. There are also other disadvantages. I’ve seen pictures, and the difference is enormous. I read various articles online where doctors discussed this. What scared me a bit was that the scars tend to be a little larger with gummy bears, but since the final effect would be so much better, it was worth it anyway. Now, after the surgery, I realize that the scars actually turned out to be smaller than I expected.

Gummy Bear Style 410 implants, on the other hand, look natural, do not require massaging, and the material feels more authentic and stronger.

First contact

I booked an appointment with a surgeon, and the meeting went well,

It was primarily a bit intimidating to enter the small waiting room and wait to be called in behind the large, illuminated doors. I felt a bit vulnerable. The surgeon I met didn’t provide much more information than I already had. He also didn’t think it mattered which implant was used. For me, that was crucial in deciding whether or not to have the surgery, and since he didn’t fully agree with me, it didn’t feel right.

I didn’t get clear answers when I asked certain questions, and after the visit, I decided to postpone the surgery. I still intended to go through with it, but this particular interaction didn’t feel right. Perhaps he didn’t know if I really wanted the surgery or not, which is why he wasn’t fully committed. However, I believe that if I’m paying for a consultation, I expect to receive good advice and a thorough examination, whether or not I decide to have the surgery.

A month went by, and I got in touch with Victoriakliniken. This time, I was able to speak with the doctor right away over the phone. In that brief conversation, I learned more than I did during the hour-long visit with the first surgeon. We talked about general topics, and the doctor, Charles Randquist, quickly explained how he worked and which implants he believed provided the best results. After that, we scheduled a time for an examination. In the meantime, we communicated via email and phone. The reason I decided to meet with Charles was that we shared the same opinion about the implants, and he sounded very determined and confident, which I believe a surgeon must be. No doubt, just action and guidance.

The examination

I met Charles in the newly renovated facilities, and I must say it didn’t feel like a hospital.

Everything was decorated in wood and light linen colors. It felt more like being in a spa than in a clinic. For me, the whole package was important. Sure, I was going to undergo surgery, but I didn’t just want to walk into a hospital and have my breasts enlarged. This was something I had dreamed about for most of my life. For me, it was a dream come true, and nothing else. I wanted to feel well taken care of, pampered. I wanted those performing the surgery to be as committed as I was. Breast augmentation is not a cheap endeavor, and I simply wanted to feel a bit of luxury. The waiting area was spacious and open, with comfortable and stylish furniture—even the sound of birds chirping! Beautiful, fragrant flowers, perfume in the restrooms, and freshly squeezed juice. I can’t say anything other than that I felt like a movie star.

After a while, Charles and his assistant Ann came in with cheerful smiles. We sat on the couch for a moment before moving into the examination room. I first had a chat with Ann. We talked generally about surgeries and what people say. Then she discussed the implants and their appearance, asking me why I wanted to have surgery, what my boyfriend thought, and so on. I didn’t have to answer anything if I didn’t want to, so it felt okay.
After a while, Charles returned, and I must say I thought he looked a bit young to be a surgeon with such a good reputation. What felt so good was that everyone here understood my situation; it didn’t feel like they were looking down on me as if I were an insecure person wanting to change myself. They listened, shared information, and were very understanding.
Charles then explained the procedure in more detail, sketching a bit and so on. I showed him pictures of breasts I thought were beautiful and others I didn’t like as much. He continued to explain the entire process of the surgery, as well as his perspective on breasts and how they should look. He also shared what he could envision doing and what he couldn’t or didn’t want to do.
Then we went to the mirrors to look at my breasts. I had always thought my right breast was smaller than the other, but here I learned otherwise. Charles explained that my ribcage is sunken on the right side, which is due to my spine being curved. All of this just from feeling my breasts! So, in reality, my breasts were the same size—what a shock. He squeezed and felt, moving back and forth, measuring, etc. At the same time, we talked about size. I wasn’t quite sure whether I should go for a B or C cup. Charles explained that it’s silly to talk in cup sizes because a so-called B cup can look bigger or smaller depending on whether one is tall or short, for example.

Implant size

Since I didn’t know what size I wanted, Charles suggested that I go home and do the rice test, meaning I should put rice in bags and then into my bra. It was quite difficult as the rice spilled out; it felt heavy and strange, but it gave me a rough idea of what I wanted. According to Charles, I could choose either 270 ml or 310 ml, so I went with 310 ml. He showed me how wide it should be between the breasts and that I should primarily have more fullness at the top.
I was so worried about how to decide on the size, but it wasn’t a problem since I received good guidance. So, I chose gummy bear implants Style 410, size 310 grams. It’s easy to become greedy and think that since I’m paying for it, I should get the biggest ones possible, but I knew that the risks would increase with larger breasts. Additionally, I didn’t want my breasts to precede me on the streets.

It was amusing when Charles described how he thought a pair of breasts should look. I had never seen a man so engaged in a pair of breasts. They should be soft and feminine, slightly wider at the sides, etc. I was worried about how I would explain what I wanted, but it ended up with him finishing my sentences. It felt completely perfect.
Charles also mentioned that I would experience more pain because I was having the surgery under the breast muscle and that he would place my scars a bit higher since I had a “hanging tendency,” meaning my skin would sag, and the scars would be visible. I wondered how this man could keep track of all these details. Suddenly, my anxiety about not being operated on as I wanted faded away. It felt as if he was going to decide everything. I knew it would turn out great, no matter how he did it, because he really had a handle on the situation. Questions like: would you prefer them to be a little, little too big or a little, little too small, along with other detailed questions, gave me more and more confidence in Charles.

I mentioned earlier that I had looked at so many pictures and thought some breasts were prettier than others. What I realized now was that, for the most part, the result depended on what kind of breasts you had before the surgery. If you had very small breasts and chose implants that were too large, it didn’t always look good. If you had a wide space between your breasts before, it would remain that way after the surgery as well.

I thought that if I showed a picture, my breasts could look like that. But after seeing so many before-and-after pictures, I realized that the breasts you have beforehand will largely determine what they will look like afterward, just larger. You can influence the outcome to a certain extent, but not too much. That was partly why I felt that some breasts weren’t “perfect.” It’s quite charming because you retain the character of your breasts; they just look like they’ve grown a bit.

Happy in spirit, I went home, but I felt a bit down when Charles pointed to the picture I had shown and said that I couldn’t have breasts like that. However, it felt good because now I had all the advantages and disadvantages laid out on the table—no more questions.

On the train, I suddenly felt a bit down. As long as I was talking to Charles, the dream was alive, but as soon as I wasn’t, I didn’t quite understand that it was actually going to happen. In any case, Charles and I kept in touch while waiting for the surgery, and a week before, he decided on the size of the implants. When he emailed me that he was about to order the 310s, it felt real.

The days before

It felt like an eternity from the end of June to the end of August. But suddenly, it was tomorrow when I would have the surgery. Charles called a few days before and the day before the operation to check in and remind me about the fasting. Then the anesthesiologist called, and I had to answer a few questions. He wanted to ensure that I was doing well and that I could tolerate antibiotics, etc.
Typical of me, I caught a cold two weeks before the surgery, and I got my period on the day of the operation. It didn’t feel entirely right, but I didn’t feel unwell in any way. Everyone called to ask how I felt, but strangely enough, I didn’t feel anything; I was quite paralyzed. It felt a bit unreal. Everyone was curious and wanted me to call right after the surgery.

The day of the surgery

I woke up very early; it felt very real now, and I knew it was finally happening. I felt no fear. It just felt right, incredibly good. A bit dazed, I took a proper shower and took the train in. It was nice that Victoriakliniken wasn’t located in the city center; that would have been too much. As I approached the clinic, I remembered Charles saying that I would probably feel unwell and might vomit after the surgery due to the anesthesia. I hadn’t had breakfast, so I was pretty hungry and weak when I arrived. I thought to myself that I didn’t need anesthesia to feel nauseous; just not having breakfast was enough.
When I entered the clinic, I met a nurse who showed me to my room. She mentioned that Charles would be coming shortly. I sat in the room, put on the gown and slippers, and sat on the bed, silently screaming to myself, “Ahhhhhh, I’m going to have surgery now!” I was very overwhelmed, but there was no hesitation; it just felt good to get this done.

Charles came in with a smile, looked at me, and said, “It’s happening now, how do you feel?” It was just so wonderful because he seemed as enthusiastic as I was. We chatted a bit; he explained what was going to happen, that I would be in a lot of pain and that I should take it easy for the first few days. He mentioned that he wouldn’t be there when I woke up because I would just want to sleep, but that he would call me a little later.
Then he took pictures of me from all angles and began to draw on me. I actually didn’t dare to look. I was afraid to move so that it wouldn’t end up uneven. Once he finished drawing, the anesthesiologist came in and gave me an injection in my butt, which I had dreaded the most after the surgery itself, and then I received a suppository.
After about fifteen minutes, I was taken to the operating room, still feeling alert. I was laid on the operating table and looked up at the lights. Charles came in wearing his surgical cap, gave me a thumbs-up, and held my feet as a sign that “this is going to go great, don’t worry.” It felt really comforting to see his face.

The nurses were taking care of me in the meantime, and they also pointed out that I was “well-painted,” another sign of Charles’s attention to detail, I thought. The anesthesiologist set up the IV, and then the anesthesia came. I breathed in one, two, three… suddenly, I was half-awake, hearing voices and feeling that some people were lifting me in my bed. I opened one eye, saw Charles smiling… and then I drifted off again. I kept hearing voices as the nurses tended to me.
When I finally woke up, it was 3:30 PM, and the surgery had taken place at 9:00 AM. The first thing I thought when I woke up was, no, I’ve been lying on my back for so long; I’m going to have a big knot at the back of my head, I better pull my hair up. But it wasn’t that easy; I couldn’t manage to lift anything more than a finger. From my chest down, I found it difficult to move at all. A nurse walked by, came in to talk to me, looked at my breasts, and said they looked great. I could only see two swollen mounds. I felt that I struggled to move and needed help to sit up, but I had to take pain relief before I could go to the bathroom.
The funny thing is that I thought I was so stiff and in so much pain that there was no chance I could get out of there for a long time, but half an hour later, I was in the bathroom. However, the anesthesia and pain relief made me feel very drowsy. I almost fell asleep while standing.

My friend came to pick me up a little later; I said hello and then fell asleep again. That’s how I spent the whole day. I managed to talk a little, eat a little, but then I had to sleep again. I thought it was nice that Charles wasn’t there because I would have felt pressured to seem alert, but that was completely impossible. I was sweaty, tired, weak, thirsty, and couldn’t manage to talk to anyone. Additionally, I had difficulty putting on my underwear after using the bathroom. When you feel so weak and fragile, it’s comforting to have someone take care of you.
I had tea and toast before the nurses let me go. I found it incredible that just an hour ago, I had been immobile, and now I was on my way home. It was also reassuring to know that there were hotels at the clinic, so if someone felt weak or didn’t want to go home, they could stay and be pampered a little longer.
In the evening, not much else happened. I ate some food, took pain relief, and lay down to sleep. I was too tired even to look at my breasts. I knew they were swollen and that they wouldn’t look like that in a few days. I called Charles to say that I was home and feeling well. He asked how the size felt, and I replied that it felt good, but I was just tired and in pain. I was also dazed and dizzy.

The days after

The day after the surgery. I had a bit of trouble getting out of bed and needed help to get up. I managed to wash myself lightly and make breakfast, being careful to avoid sudden movements. I was also able to brush my hair and get dressed. However, I felt my breasts all the time. It was okay as long as I sat or stood still, but standing up or bending down was painful. The breasts were still swollen, but I dared to look at them anyway. You would think they would look strange, but aside from being a bit swollen and pointy, they looked pretty normal.
Sometimes during the day, I forgot that I had just had surgery, but that was probably due to the medication. Still tired and dazed, I could only manage to stay home and watch TV. On the first day, I couldn’t put on my sports bra because it felt too tight. But the next day was better. I have a pretty loose sports bra, which feels a bit more comfortable. As soon as I feel better, I plan to go into town and buy a really good, supportive sports bra. But I still don’t feel any rush of happiness over having larger breasts. It feels nice that the surgery is over, but I can hardly wait until I can go buy that new bra…

Day 2

No difference from day one; still sore and swollen, I can’t do much. But I feel that I can move around much more without pain. I think many people, like me, don’t understand that it’s a real surgery you undergo, and even if you handle the pain well, you are disabled for a few days afterward. You have to realize that you need help both physically and emotionally. I have a strong mind, but it was challenging with the anesthesia and pain relief. Many thoughts go through your head. I thought, “Oh my God, now I’m operated on; what if something happens?” It was comforting to know that I could talk to Charles or Ann at any time; I know I called Ann several times.

Day 3

I can feel that the swelling is starting to go down, and I also sense that I have feeling in my nipple. I’m still hesitant to take a proper shower; it’s difficult to wash my hair, so I let my sister do it for me. I got dressed and felt really lively. I decided to go into town and buy a bra. I went in with a friend who would help me put on the bra, which can be a bit tricky when you’re feeling a little stiff.
It felt nice to be out again, but I felt a bit socially anxious because I was afraid of running into people. I waited out all the crowds wherever I went so that I wouldn’t risk getting an elbow to the breast. However, when my handbag, which isn’t particularly heavy, started to feel like it weighed 5 kg, it was time to head home again.

Day 7

Yay! I have large breasts, and I’m so happy. I’ve tried on all my old bras to see that they’re definitely too small, haha! A week has passed since the surgery, and I feel that I no longer need pain relief, but I still have some discomfort. It doesn’t feel strange to have something inside me; it actually feels real, as if my breasts have suddenly grown. It’s a bit annoying to only be able to sleep on my back all the time.
Today, I was back at the clinic, and Charles checked my breasts to make sure everything was okay, and it was. We—meaning Ann, Charles, and I—were all very pleased with the result. Now I would wait another two weeks before the stitches would be removed. I can move around quite freely but still can’t lift heavy things, and my motor skills aren’t the best. No quick turns backward to adjust the pillow, for example.

The funny thing now is that for a few days, everything was improving, but suddenly I started feeling more pain and became worried. You would think the pain should be decreasing. It felt like really intense muscle soreness along with some stinging. It was a bit uncomfortable to wear a tight bra. I asked about this during my first follow-up appointment. According to Charles, it makes sense that when I take pain relief, I move around more. Then, when I don’t take anything the following day, I feel more pain because I’ve been more active the day before, similar to muscle soreness.

Suture removal

Today, three weeks after the surgery, I am going to remove the stitches. Since I live in London and can’t come to Sweden for this, I’ve been allowed to remove them myself. I called Ann to make sure I was doing it correctly. Since I had never removed stitches before, I was actually quite nervous.

Both Charles and Ann assured me that it would be easy. But when I stood in front of the mirror, my hands were shaking. I started pulling on one end of the thread and exhaled. I thought I had made it a centimeter without feeling any resistance, so now the tough part must be coming. I began to pull but realized that the thread was gone. I had already pulled it out before I even thought I had started. I laughed to myself, amazed at how easy it was, especially since I had been so nervous. So far, everything has gone as we wanted; it felt wonderful.
The other day, I slept on my side and thought, “Now my breasts must be standing straight out,” but when I looked down at them, I saw that they had fallen just like they did before the surgery, completely naturally. The breasts are still a bit tender, including the nipples. But now they look really nice. I still have surgical tape on the scars; it feels safer and more comfortable.

Follow-up visit

About six months after the surgery, it was time for the follow-up visit. Charles took after photos and showed me the picture we took before the surgery. I can say it was hard to see that; it didn’t feel like my body back then. I thought, “This is how I should have looked from the start.” Charles squeezed a bit and confirmed that they were perfect!

The breasts feel great; I don’t feel them at all. Most importantly, they feel incredibly real and have such a nice shape. No one has noticed that I’ve had surgery, which is really nice. But when I go out and dress up, I can choose freely between all sorts of outfits. The other day, I compared breasts with my friends, and they felt the same. Everyone thinks they look very natural.

“Wisdom words”

In short, I could say that it took three days for the swelling to go down, and a week for the pain to subside. It was another month before I could lift heavier objects. I waited an additional two months before I started training properly, but I was able to jog after two months. I thought I would feel them when I ran, but I felt nothing. So, I can say that it took me three months to feel fully recovered.

I realize now that if you’re small to begin with, you shouldn’t go for breasts that are too large; you still want to live normally. I am really happy with my size—not too big and not too small. Most importantly, I get positive reactions from both guys and girls about my size. I realize that people find it easier to accept breast augmentation if it’s not exaggerated, even those who have always been against breast enlargement. My boyfriend’s friends, who always said I should go for really large breasts, have only given me compliments and said that I did the right thing by not going bigger. I now understand that perhaps it’s not breast augmentation itself that some people oppose, but rather the size.

It feels strange that something I had longed for and waited to do was now over. I must say that you need help during the first few days; you are very sensitive, and it’s not pleasant if you can’t manage on your own and have no one to assist you. However, I think you could manage alone; it’s just that you feel a bit lazy and tender, and you feel sorry for yourself because you’re in pain. I know my sister brushed my hair on the second or third day, even though I could have done it myself the day after! I felt a bit sorry for myself. I probably thought it wouldn’t hurt as long as it did. It was partly my fault for not taking all the medication I was supposed to.
So here’s a tip: take everything Charles gives you and don’t wait until you feel pain again. It’s just unnecessary suffering; I don’t know what I was thinking, that I was some sort of superwoman or something.

I hope everything goes well for you!

/Sara