When Justice is Better Served in a Room Full of Dead Baby Mommies

I read a shocking article today about a 21-year-old man who's been charged with murder after attacking his ex-girlfriend and her three-month-old son, then kidnapping the baby and tossing him from a moving vehicle on an interstate highway. The sight of the dead baby disturbed the man who found him -- a news photographer -- so deeply that he couldn't bear to keep his eyes on the child.

I cannot even form words to describe how intensely furious I feel about this entire situation,
so I'm not even going to try.

I will say, though, that this unbelievable individual is quite fortunate to not have me on his jury -- particularly since I feel that true justice might be better served if a prison sentence were bypassed and he were locked in a room full of dead baby mommies.

Back From the Past

Today, as I sat having my blood drawn for the millionth time, the phlebotomist asked me why my doctor sends me in for lab work every three days. I explained my doctor's caution by telling her of my normally short luteal phase and the resulting low progesterone levels that have ended three of the six pregnancies I've had. Before I finished speaking, familiarity shadowed her face.

"I lost a baby once -- at sixteen weeks," she said. "I was in maternity clothes and everything."

There she stood in her middle age, in her workplace, drawing blood from my arm, and she couldn't find her way back from the past.