Playing favorites, with my boobs

After a rocky first two weeks, where I got treated to the usual bleeding nipples and agonizing latch-on pain, breastfeeding with Terza has been going swimmingly. And thank God for that. When I remember the trials and tribulations I went through with Primo, I think I must've been a martyr to keep going. I just don't think I'd have it in me with number three to endure that kind of mammary difficulty. And since Seconda, who was a champion nurser from the start, ran into a rough patch at about three months (a rough patch which turned out to be acid reflux), I'm now very attuned to Terza's nursing and on the lookout for any telltale signs of trouble.

But while I've been on the lookout for all these special nursing culprits who are thankfully absent, I've neglected to do some very basic things, like keep up with which breast I've just fed the baby off of. In the chaos of the day who can really remember which side the baby nursed from, and really, what's the difference? 

The difference is, I now have one mammoth boob and one teeny tiny one. I've been favoring one side over th ether, leading with my right as it were, and now my left breast is half the size, and totally under-producing. As if the first few months don't give you enough freakish physical problems, I now have a lopsided rack. My grandmother pointed this out to me the other day.

"Listen, I don't wanna tell you wat you doin but you gotta one big breast and one little one," she pointed out.

And she was right. 

Now I've got to see if I can un-do the damage of my favoritism, see if I can equalize my lactation situation. Guess I'll have to dust off the old pump. Since I know what awful fate awaits these boobs once I wean, I can at least have them equal and symmetrical for when I lose a cup size and get all droopy. I mean, David did wed me and my rack for better and for worse but I can help a guy out and not go all Amazon on him if I can help him. Wish me luck.