I had given birth in the wee hours of the morning. While I was overjoyed at the birth of my daughter, I was beyond frustrated every time I tried to nurse her. Every nursing session was a teary failure. I’d clumsily try to manipulate myself and latch Charlotte; Charlotte would want nothing to do with me.   When C was born, she would not eat. She. Would. Not. Eat. One lactation consultant (or “LC”) said she was a “lazy latcher.” Another LC said she had a minor posterior tongue tie preventing her from bringing her tongue to the front of her mouth. That, combined with my apparently faulty nipples, did…