Bra Bites/Bras Bite

When I was little I wanted a bra SO badly. I would sneak into my mom’s closet and try on her lingerie, pieces I thought were the most elegant but now realize were worn, tired mom bras. It was the early 90s, and shoulder pads were the perfect shape to stuff into the bras. On more than one occasion I got in trouble when my mom went to get dressed only to find her shirts empty and sagging in the shoulders. But what would she have me use, socks? Not when it was so clear to me that these pads were designed just for this use. But I wanted my own bra, and one day I took matters into my own hands. I grabbed the grown-up scissors, a couple undershirts, and got to it. My mom found me at the scene-of-the-crime, crying over the murdered bodies of several undershirts. My bras didn’t’ look or feel anything like the special ones my mom wore, and the shoulder pads slipped out the bottom and landed with a plop on the floor, just like my dreams of womanhood…

I loved nursing my 3 children. I had no shame when it came to feeding them. My breasts didn’t feel at all sexual, or even bodily, and I was known to squat anywhere when a child needed to eat. I’ve nursed on playground swings, in the middle of a pumpkin patch, on a ferris wheel, and in dozens of restaurants all across the U.S. I’ve been boob-out chasing after siblings and have nursed on-the-go while grocery shopping. For the most part, people were accepting of this. But once on an airplane in the middle of my son’s lunch, a flight attendant brought me a blanket and asked if I’d like to cover up. I looked right at her and said “no thank you. My son prefers his meals in the delightful fresh air of this plane.” And that was that…

When you are nursing – especially during the 1st few months – you have a person attached to your nipple around the clock. For me this meant I found myself eating at the same time as my baby. When I would undress in the evening – on those rare occasions that the baby was content long enough for me to get a shower – I would find whole meals in my nursing bras. And let me tell you, these bras, like my breasts, were enormous. There was ample food storage space. And I enjoyed this extra surprise snack at the end of the day.

Published by imworriedmytherapisthatesme

I'm a history-PhD-turned-stay-at-home-mom of three. When I'm not microwaving Trader Joe's meals for my kids, breaking up fights and wiping butts, I like to paint and write. To cope with the endless hours I'm spending with my son doing virtual school, I've abandoned my gouache paints for the more portable, less messy tried but true, paper and ink. While he learns to read to 20 floating heads on his screen, I sit on a tiny chair, at a tiny table pretending to be a productive adult.

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