A/N: Oh, I am so thankful for all of the wonderful reviews this story has received. Really, I appreciate it so much. As a writer, feedback is kind of like crack to me ;) ; I'll try to respond privately to each of you as soon as I find time.
I know the chapters are short, but I'm trying to operate under a "less is more" mentality... is it working? :) Also, as is, this story only has ten chapters... but I've become kind of attached to this piece, so... we'll see.
Entry VIII (Month 8)
Peeta's always talked to it- the baby, I mean. He's had whole conversations with my stomach. He speaks in this gentle, high-pitched croon that I've rarely heard him use before.
I of course feel completely awkward when I even think about having an exchange with my own abdomen, but the other night, when my ribs were taking their standard beating, I realized I was doing it- rubbing and speaking in hushed tones. And then I was singing- this little lullaby I used to sing for Prim.
Both of us slept soundly after that.
Maybe I'm becoming more okay with this whole thing. Maybe