I forgot how much I hated wearing a bra when I was pregnant with Molly. It squeezed me in all the wrong places, even when fitted correctly, because of my ribcage.
Today I nursed Molly and she fell asleep. I laid on my back on the couch with her when I realized it felt like I was being stabbed underneath my breasts on both sides. It was my bra.
Needless to say, the bra is out unless I have somewhere to go. Thank God for shelf nursing tanks.