Will I ever wear a button down shirt again?

Will I ever wear a button down shirt again?

Have mercy, my jugs are huge.
They are, by far, the biggest they have ever been in my life, and they continue to grow at an astonishing rate. In three weeks, I have jumped an entire cup size, and still continue to grow. At the end of my pregnancy I am going to look like friggin' Anna Nicole Smith (if she was mousy and brunette) (and alive).

At night when I sleep, I want to bind them to my body with an ace bandage because they just flop all over the place. They jump out of my tank tops, I occasionally end up laying on one of them... it has been ugly. I have resorted to wearing 2 sportsbras while I sleep just to keep these gals contained.

Man, if BJ Something-or-other could see me now! BJ was this douchebag kid (hello, his name was BJ, that should have been my first clue) who made fun of me in 7th grade because I was flat chested. By flat chested I don't mean that I had very small boobs, I mean I looked like a dude. BJ terrorized me and got a bunch of his other douchebag pals to make fun of me every day when I was walking to class. They called me pancake. Fuckers.

I didn't start growing boobs until the summer after my 9th grade year. I seriously didn't even wear a bra until then... what's the point? The boobs really blossomed the summer before I left for college, as I have a picture of my friends and I flashing a camera and my tits are round, perky, firm and beautiful (large B Cup). I think I had a good 6 months with those before I went to college and started gaining my freshman weight and they started to grow and sag a little. By my senior year in college, I had lost the freshman weight but I was a hippie-type who was so over bras. This didn't help the sag factor, but regardless, I maintained a pretty rockin' rack (small C cup).

Fast forward 6 years (wow! 6 years...) and here I am busting out of a D cup with the firmest, best looking boobs God could make. Too bad my husband is an ass man.