Lately, I've been thinking about that first doctor at Northwest Perinatal. How if only I'd been stronger I could have continued seeing him and in the process taught him a lesson of love and cherishing life. I don't know that I would have changed his practices, but at some level, maybe opened his eyes or something like that. Don't get me wrong, the doctor that ended up delivering Owen is a wonderful man with a heart of gold. I just wonder what lessons we left unlearned.

Then again, my struggle with doctors really opened my eyes. How much personal value judgments enter into the picture. I mean the doctor can tell you factually about their experience, studies and various research -- but they shouldn't project their own decisions on to you. I find this to be especially hurtful if the doctor has decided to practice in a detached manner (sans love and compassion).