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My Battle With My Big Naturals

I’m lying on a table in a fancy pink clinic, holding my massive right breast—engorged with milk and infection—to keep it from rolling into my armpit. When I move, the lemon-sized lump shoots daggers of white fire through my body. My all-natural, back busting labor from three months ago was a foot massage compared to this. I pray to the Big-Natural-Gods that the doctor can give me some relief from the week of progressive pain I have endured. Instead, as punishment for some unknown crime, I would become a science experiment: my already awkward postpartum body would be tricked out with tubes and pouches I would try to hide under a loose fitting tunic. The physical pain could be medicated, but the life-long Feelings War between me and my massive melons had reached its biggest battle to date, and they had won. READ MORE