My ex-husband and I went down the same path as the author and her family, seeking fertility treatment after heartbreaking miscarriages. In addition, I did not have a first child. The author's account of how the control over what happened to her premature babies was taken away from her & her husband was something that I learned before embarking on the treatment, fortunately. My doctor also glossed over the idea of what might happen to a very premature baby. We, too, talked in terms of weeks gestation. The idea was to get me to carry long enough for the baby/babies to be viable, which remains a moving target, as the author noted. They would finish their gestation in the 'artifical womb' of NICU. It is a testament to how much I wanted a biological child at that time that I actually considered this course of treatment very seriously. When I walked away, it was the hardest decision I ever made. I'm an analyst by profession and therefore just naturally research everything to a probably obsessive degree. It was through my own research that I learned what my doctor did not tell me. I think the doctor meant well and viewed himself as an instrument of God (perhaps too much so) in bringing these babies into the world. But when I fully acknowledged to myself the life to which we might be consigning one or more children, I could not, in the final analysis, do it. Most people who go into this process do not do the level of research that I did -- understandably so. They are relying on their trust in our medical institutions to make ethical and compassionate decisions, something that is not always found in the fertility industry. My heartfelt sympathies to the author, and to the fertility industry -- regulation!

I'm a bit shocked that Charles Graner's parents did not see fit to raise any kind of alarm about the abuse at Abu Ghraib, since they were briefed so closely on it by their son, including being provided with the photos we all saw eventually, thanks to Salon. Did they feel that this torture was morally justified? Or perhaps they felt they could not have an impact -- but to that I would say, only look at Mary Tillman, mother of Corporal Pat Tillman, to see what a parent can accomplish. Did the elder Mr. Graner serve in the military in any capacity? Surely he would have some familiarity with the UCMJ and the Geneva Convention. Perhaps we should not be so surprised that Charles Graner chose not to buck his own chain of command, a difficult (but sometimes necessary) task to be sure, when his own parents, outside of military reach, did not even voice their dismay.

I was struck by the extent to which the LW is bothered by stimuli. Overwhelmed, even. While most of the comments, including Cary's, focus on the psychological, being overloaded by stimuli is associated with acute anxiety -- even if it doesn't feel like anxiety to the person -- and can be provoked by conditions such as hyperthyroidism. It wouldn't hurt the LW to share her observations of being overloaded by stimuli (I'm intentionally avoiding the use of the word 'feeling' here) with her physician. By all means, investigate the psychological as well, and a counselor might be helpful, but be aware that sometimes our sensations are not just in our psyche.

I have used the Men's room more than once at concerts or other crowded venues when there is an interminable line outside the Ladies. But what's more interesting is getting others to do it, even when it's just a 'one-horse stall.'

One of my favorite places in the Bay Area is Bucks in Woodside, site of innumerable Silicon Valley lunches: one Men's room, one Ladies. Despite the preponderance of men in Silicon Valley, there's rarely anyone in the Men's Room, and nearly always a line for the Ladies. Guess what? They are both the individual-room type, so no need to crash the guys' party to go pee. Why on earth are women at this and other venues standing in line for an identical room marked "Ladies?"

I'll usually check to see if the Men's is empty and then say to the first woman in line, "You can go in here." I'm met first with incredulity and then, when everyone sees the sense of it, laughter and quick acquiescence. It's fun! We don't have to stand there! It's become sort of a hobby of mine, getting women to line-jump.

Who knows where this will lead? Free to step into an individual bathroom, perhaps free to walk into the men's room and say the hell with the line.