Would my boobs

DANGEROUSLY LARGE

Walking into the playground, a dozen sets of eyes dart from my face to my chest.

‘ET!’ a couple of the lads yelled at me.

They weren’t referring to the little alien on a bicycle. For me, ET stood for something else.

Enormous tits. Not kind. But, to be fair, they weren’t wrong.

I’d started developing early – and by 15, I was wearing a 36DD bra.

I was a size 16, too. Bigger and bustier than all the girls in my class.

Always piled my plate high, had seconds. Having massive breasts meant buying unflattering clothes. A neckline too low made it look like I was trying to get attention. Really, it was the opposite – I was fed up with the stares!

Though I knew losing weight could help, years passed and I could never find the motivation.

When my twins Isla and Chloe were born in March 2011, I was a size 18-20.

And, busy with my

Diet or

I was so big, I thought I’d suffocate my own son Becky Hill, 32, Bromyard

I’d always been bigger – and bustier

babies, food became about convenience.

Pre-packed sandwiches and crisps for lunch.

Cheesy pasta or ready meals for dinner.

After the girls, my boobs grew even more, to a 42G. ‘Sorry, we don’t stock G-cups,’ the sales assistants told me sympathetically time and again.

Seeing my smaller-busted friends in strappy tops, I burned with envy.

Desperate to hide away, I layered up in jumpers and baggy trousers, and even started to cover my arms with tattoos.

In May 2016, determined to lose my pregnancy weight, I cut out carbs, tried

Compared with my boobs, my baby’s head looked tiny meal-replacement shakes. But I was hungry and miserable, and soon was back to binging.

On Christmas Day 2016, my greatest gift was an unwrapped one.

A positive pregnancy test! I was elated, but my plans to lose weight before my 30th the following summer went out the window.

A few months into my pregnancy, it wasn’t just the baby making me bulge. My eating was out of control. I was soon a size 22-24. Because of my weight, I was regularly monitored.

And by the end of my third trimester, I was using crutches to get around.

‘We’re worried about your health, and your baby’s,’ the doctor said.

‘If it’s best for us both, I’ll have him early,’ I said, feeling guilty.

At 38 weeks, Rupert was born by caesarean, weighing 8lb 4oz.

As I held him, I struggled to breastfeed.

Compared with my huge boobs, his head looked tiny. Holding him close, he almost disappeared into my folds.

I’ll suffocate him, I panicked . The nurse could see that I was struggling.

‘Try holding him as if he was a rugby ball. Women with a larger frame find it easier,’ she said. As she walked away, I burst into tears.

No one had ever been so blunt with me. Taking Rupert home, we settled into family life.

Rupert’s dad, Paul, 40, was great, but there was one thing he couldn’t help with – breastfeeding.

Despite trying every position and angle, I couldn’t get Rupert comfortable when feeding. My boobs and belly just got in the way.

And after six days, I gave up. ‘I’ll have to bottle-feed him,’ I sighed.

I knew that it would’ve been easier if I was smaller.

So, in October 2017, I tried to lose weight again. And after failing Not these days! With sisters Chloe and Isla

or bust!

the shakes diet again, I joined Slimming World in January 2018. Taking Rupert along, I felt a combination of dread and excitement.

The thought of standing on the scales in front of everyone made me anxious.

But this time I was determined.

The excuses had poured out over the years:

‘I’m eating for two.’ ‘Being pregnant with twins made me put on so much weight.’

‘I haven’t got time to cook healthy meals.’

But it was all nonsense. Now I wanted to make my children proud.

At my first weigh-in, I peeked at the scales. 21st 8lb. ‘I can’t believe I’ve let myself get so big,’ I sighed. ‘This is the start of your journey,’ my consultant reassured me.

So later, while the girls did their homework, I planned our meals for the week. Swapping fry-ups for fruit and yogurt, I ditched my ready meals and fatty sandwiches.

I started cooking from scratch – chilli, bolognese and curries.

Used up the leftovers for the next day’s lunches.

And, slowly, the weight started dropping off.

By November 2019, I hit 11st 8lb. A 10st loss! My bra size dropped to 34G.

Though I’d spent years complaining about them, I missed my old boobs. Losing so much weight meant that they weren’t as full as before.

I still have to fork out for decent bras, but being lighter has had such a huge impact on my life.

Wearing a size 12, I’m gradually rebuilding my wardrobe.

But, most importantly, I’m now able to do more stuff with the kids. The girls are my biggest cheerleaders. Rupert won’t ever remember what his mummy used to look like.

Won’t recall when I worried he’d suffocate in my bust! Now, I weigh 11st 6½lb and this year, I plan to do a charity skydive.

It’s been on my bucket list for a long time, but I was always too heavy. Not any more! At the start of my journey...

...and today. IÕve lost 10st!