mentalization of the deformed child came effortlessly (its tiny left thumb was fused with its nose, the arm bent awkwardly)
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I perceived its thoughts and needs as an inner voice, only slightly distinct from my own
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despite the threat to my personal freedom and lifestyle, I was compelled to do all that I could for my baby's wellbeing
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I noted the drastic shift in my own priorities and goals, all brought about by this new voice in my head
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then it said, "You actually think I'm that kid!"
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I have a lot of dreams about accidental baby deaths. It's always such a bummer.
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