Bringing Baby Home: Bras

B is for Bras. Bras, and what they hold, caused crying. The baby cried because it wanted food hidden in my bra. I cried because of the pain. Then I cried because of the bra size.

A few weeks before I had my son, someone randomly suggested I pick up a couple of nursing bras for the hospital. Nobody else had mentioned that I might need one, but I trusted this person and went to visit a local store, Special Addition. The saleswoman asked me a series of questions about my pre-pregnancy bra size, my pregnancy bra size, and whether or not I was planning on breastfeeding.

After trying on about 8 bras, I got two sleep bras, because predicting the size I would be post-pregnancy would be difficult. Then I stupidly only packed one bra in my hospital bag. I wore the other one around the house. Dumb move. I needed both at the hospital especially since I was there longer after a c-section. I wore that bra out, stretching it when my milk came in. At home, engorgement hit me at 1 a.m. when the air conditioner kicked in and I felt my nipples tingle. I burst out into tears, put the heating pad on low, and tried not to cry. My mother described me as having cantaloupes. Thanks mom.

Since I'd had a c-section, I could not drive for two weeks. Not only did I have a new baby, but I was constantly washing my two raveling bras. I begged my mother to take me to get new bras. Back at Special Addition, I went through another series of questions and tried on a dozen bras, politely ignoring the $80 ones I was afraid I would love too much. Finally settling on two more bras, I cried when I realized the cup size. In my head, I knew bras were that large, but I didn't ever think I would be wearing one that size.

Now, two months later, I have purchased four more bras and several shirts. None of my old shirts fit. I am grateful to my friend who suggested getting bras and only wish I had packed two of them for the hospital and gotten a couple extras for home.