We went to a breastfeeding class tonight. It kinda filled in the gaps in terms of what I understood about the process, most notably the part about how exactly the baby is supposed to attach. Not that I have to know that in particular, but still, interesting stuff.
However, there was one girl there who clearly was going to screw up her child. She asked a million questions, many of them common sense, but she was also looking for a concrete, black and white answer to everything. She could not operate in shades of gray. The instructor said a hundred times that every baby and parents are different. She also suggested that laboring over what the "right" thing to do in every parenting situation would make you miserable (and kinda implied it's not good for the kid).
If I could summarize the experience of conception up through eight months, it would be that none of the generalizations are true, except perhaps that there's a baby at the end. But all of the stuff about what you'll feel or do or whatever, it's never the same from one person to the next. That only validates what I've been saying about all of the generalizations about raising a child as well. Your mileage will vary.
Meanwhile, Diana just keeps getting more and more miserable. We've got four weeks to go, but they're very much looking like they're going to suck. I've seen her put up with allergies without a complaint. She's battled vertigo. In the time I've known her, she just rolls with stuff like this. But this pregnancy is really testing the limits of what she can endure, and that's probably made worse by the wacky hormones. If the lad isn't pressing on some vital organ, he's trapping gas. It really does suck, and there isn't much I can do. At least for the moment, we've pretty much decided that if there's a baby #2, it'll be an adoption.