Damned lactation nazis...
You really did not think this was going to happen, partly because you spent nine months being practically Gisele about EVERYONE SHOULD DO IT and WOMEN WHO SAY THEY CAN'T ARE LIARS BECAUSE EVOLUTION (not out loud, or anything, because you're likable), but quietly and fatuously in your head. And you read The Politics of Breastfeeding and attended the LLL meetings and waltzed around feeling completely confident that you would produce such an excess of precious perfect nutrition from your body that you could probably add it to kale smoothies and donate it to nice gay male adoptive parents.
But natural childbirth worked! And it took a couple of days for your milk to come in, which is completely normal. Expected! You expected it. And in the interim she lost about 13% of her birth weight, which is...more than normal, but not completely disastrous. And she was a little baby to begin with, so she started to look like a plucked chicken, but no big deal. But your milk came in, and you fed every hour or so, because that's what you do, and you had to wake her UP to feed, because snoozy, but she always had a great latch, and looked satisfied and drunk when she fell off, so you assumed you were in business.
And then you brought her back in, and she had lost another ounce. So, obviously, you had a crazy weeping fit in your pediatrician's office, and BEGGED for more time when she extremely hesitantly suggested you might need to start supplementing. Lactation consultant! Pump! Fenugreek! Blessed thistle! Nursing vacations! (You get in bed, naked, with your naked baby, load up the entire run of The Wire, have people bring you water and food, do nothing but nurse for 48 hours.)
She wouldn't gain. It wasn't great.
It's worth reading the rest, because it's an awesome, awesome post. Breastfeeding is a very healthy thing for both mother and child and should be encouraged, but good lord! Doing it doesn't make you an angel from heaven and not doing it doesn't make you a crack smoking reject. Being any kind of parent is so freaking impossible that you'd cry if you didn't love that little four-limbed alien so much, and you'll probably still end up crying from sheer, unrelenting frustration. Breatfeeding mothers? Rock on. Non-breastfeeding mothers? Rock on.