He already loves this kid. He can't leave the apartment without saying goodbye to both me and my stomach. I ask him how can he already feel that. I don't feel anything. Maybe just pity - imagining this helpless pre-baby who has to depend entirely on me for survival.
Well on my way to hiring a doula, craftily arranging trade-service agreements. Bartering my design services for someone to be my experienced "friend" through birth. After an hour long conversation with the doula coordinator, I feel the best I have yet about the entire thing. I will be armed with a phone number for the next time the overwhelming loneliness and indigestion consume me.
Watched DIstrict 9 and felt very connected to the main character as he slowly and painfully morphed into an alien.
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