When a Small Difference Quietly Became Unliveable
For three years, Sanjuna had lived with something she’d learned to manage. Her left breast was about 20% larger than her right — enough to notice, not enough to upend her life. Tests had come back normal. Doctors had suggested waiting until after pregnancy before considering anything further. So she waited.
Then she delivered her baby, and everything changed.
The left breast didn’t settle. It kept growing, reaching a volume roughly 70% greater than the right — a dramatic, visible asymmetry that arrived in the middle of one of the most physically and emotionally demanding periods of her life. New motherhood is already an exercise in learning a body that no longer feels entirely familiar. For Sanjuna, it became something harder than that.
“Even now when I look at the back days, like only pain I could see is the days that I had to hold these two things in place, not with the surgery.”
Looking back, she doesn’t remember the surgery as the difficult part. The difficult part was the months before it.
Two Bras, a Shawl, and a Condition She Hadn’t Chosen
What started as a slight pre-existing difference — a 20% size variation present for three years before pregnancy — transformed into a daily physical and emotional ordeal in the postpartum months. With the left breast now 70% larger than the right, clothing stopped fitting the way it was meant to. Going out required a specific routine: two bras worn together to keep both sides in proportion, and an extra dupatta or shawl draped over her each time she left the house — or even moved around at home.
She lived this way for approximately five to six months. During that time, the asymmetry wasn’t just a physical condition. It was something she had to conceal, manage, and carry with her through every part of her day — while simultaneously adjusting to life as a new mother.
The confidence she’d always taken for granted quietly eroded. Mood swings came and went. She found herself struggling to accept a body that felt, suddenly, like it wasn’t hers.
Eventually, after discussing the situation with her husband — a general physician — she sought a specialist opinion. Multiple people in her circle pointed her toward Dr. Anjali Saple at Divyam. She made the appointment, still uncertain whether anything could be done.
“Now you can see I am without a scar, fent or dupatta.”
That image — her, unencumbered, needing nothing extra — was still months away when she first walked through the clinic doors.
The Consultation That Shifted Everything
When Sanjuna arrived at Divyam, she carried five to six months of accumulated exhaustion with her. Not just physical tiredness, but the particular weight of managing something invisible to others — a condition hidden beneath layers of clothing, masked by double bras and careful dressing, while everyone around her saw only a new mother getting on with things.
“Being a mother itself is a tough phase and on top of it I had to undergo all of these for at least 5-6 months.”
She sat down with Dr. Anjali Saple and explained everything: the years of mild asymmetry, the pregnancy, the sudden dramatic change after delivery, the daily effort of concealment. She wasn’t confident going in. She didn’t know whether what she was describing was correctable, or how, or whether she was even a candidate for surgery.
Dr. Saple listened. Then she told Sanjuna, with quiet confidence, that her pre-condition could come back — that this was fixable. That reassurance, delivered simply and directly, was what Sanjuna needed.
She said yes to surgery.
What Dr. Saple Did — and How It Went
Dr. Anjali Saple performed a breast reduction procedure to address the significant unilateral hypertrophy of Sanjuna’s left breast. The goal was to restore symmetry, correct the nipple position, and bring both sides into proportion with each other.
Sanjuna was admitted, underwent the procedure under general anesthesia, and was discharged within a single day. The experience, she would later say, was almost imperceptible — the surgery itself passed quickly and smoothly, with no complications. There were no post-operative healing issues. No extended hospital stay. What she’d feared might be a drawn-out ordeal was over before she fully registered it had begun.
For context on how significant the pre-surgical burden had been: in the months before the procedure, she had spent two to three hours every day using a breast pump to express milk from the left breast, because the nipple’s positioning had made direct breastfeeding impossible for her baby to manage. The surgery addressed this directly.
A Mother Who Can Hold Her Baby on Both Sides
The results were immediate and concrete. Sanjuna’s breast symmetry was restored. The nipple position corrected. She could hold her baby on her left side — something that hadn’t been possible in the months since delivery. For the first time since her postpartum body had shifted beneath her, she could breastfeed the way she’d expected to.
The two-bra routine ended. The extra dupatta stayed in the drawer. She moved through her days without accounting for concealment, without the mental overhead of managing what others might see.
The mood swings that had shadowed those five to six months lifted along with the physical burden. She described herself as perfectly fine — not in a performative way, but in the matter-of-fact tone of someone who has genuinely returned to herself. No visible scarring. No complications. No lingering sense of something wrong.
What she remembered about the whole experience was the months before, not the surgery.
What Sanjuna Wants Others to Know
Sanjuna doesn’t hold back when she talks about her experience, and she speaks directly to anyone who might be sitting with something similar right now — a condition they’re managing in silence, a problem they haven’t found the right person to discuss.
She describes Dr. Saple as genuinely caring, approachable, and warm — not just technically skilled, but the kind of doctor who made her feel heard. And she has a simple message for anyone hesitating: come in, sit down, and talk. You don’t need to have already decided. You don’t need to be certain. You just need to start the conversation.
For Sanjuna, that conversation changed everything.