Dearest Tiny One,
I'm sorry, but you just don't have what we're looking for at this point. She's in love with the left side, and honestly, I feel more comfortable when her fuzzy head is in the crook of that arm. It's not your fault--you're a great boob. You did your part in producing at the beginning, it just didn't feel right. I don't blame you for shrinking back to prepubescent size from neglect.
The other side just felt right from the start. You know, you were there, out in the open for the whole birth team to see as I brought her up to latch on my left first. And now here you are, two cup sizes smaller than your sister (if I had to guess--it's been months since I've stashed you in a proper bra).
I know you see her marathon nurse before she switches to you for less than a minute, then switches back. I know you heard her father joke about his former hope that I'd have a set of nice girls to look at, "Well, you got one big boob out of this deal. Great."
You're not anyone's favorite now, but your time is coming. When your big sister wears out and decides to start hanging out with my belly button, I'll wish we'd given you a little more attention. I'll love you more.
For now, I'm sorry. Stay perky.