Confession: attempting to feed another human being off my own flesh has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.  Granted, let’s not play the tiny violins too loudly. A sense of perspective is important.  Will and I had a great birth. The first day we came home from hospital I made French toast croque monsieurs and felt a smidge of smug. We had this in the bag.

Until we didn’t. We had Will’s tongue tie and cleaving to navigate. There was my paltry supply and his dwindling weight. There were expensive pumps, which in my sleep deprived haze I couldn’t figure out how to assemble . There were appointments …