My snarky opinion from our one time through the whole deal was that a doula is a stand-in for a woman whose partner and mother are both either uninterested or not competent to hold her hand during labor.

I've heard more positive things about doulas; they sort of act as the "project manager" for the birth, so while mama is busy pushing a child out of her body, papa is busy being panicked and frantic and exicted and shocked and close to fainting, and the midwife is busy actually delivering the baby, the doula can be employed to do more practical and helpful things like give massages (my aunt's was a massage therapist in her non-doula time, I believe) to mama, make sure all necessary objectss are available and close at hand, and keeping busybody friends and relatives out of the room even though they insist they have a 'right' to be there (father-in-law? HELLS NO!)

Your analogy to opened letters placed within the property of an unrelated party is completely false.

This was the wife's laptop -- her property.

It was a file not related to anything the husband was working with.

The file wasn't open when he obtained the laptop.

The diary wasn't her screensaver, with unavoidable entries flashing before him.

A more accurate analogy would be if a friend asked to borrow a notebook, and tucked into the pack pocket of the notebook was an unsealed envelope containing a letter I had written. Even though I've handed the notebook to my friend, and even though the letter wasn't sealed, I don't think that's an invitation to read the letter, and I would be really stunned to find out that my friend had in fact opened it and read it.

I can't believe people think poking around in other people's business is perfectly OK. Assuminng all is well in a relationship (i.e. no deep suspicions of infidelity, etc.) what on earth would possess anyone to rifle through their loved ones' belongings? What are you looking for? Would you be happy if you found our your honey was rifling through *your* stuff? Where are people's boundaries?

I had a weird conversation with an ex years ago, where he was telling me about two friends who had become engaged. The question was a surprise, and my ex asked his friend "didn't you look through his stuff looking for a ring" and she apparently replied "of course I did!", as if this was perfectly normal behavior. He then made some comment to me about my going through his stuff and I was stunned and replied that I had never and would never look through his belongings. In the two years we dated I read exactly two pieces of paper that had his name on them: one was a rental application that was sitting on his kitchen table in plain view, face up, and the other was a wedding invitation that also had my name on the envelope, so I figured it was fair game. Even then, I felt horrible guilt because even though it was technically addressed to me, it had been sent to him.

Call me a literary masochist (I've only ever run across one other person who's read Eco's Pendulum :-)

I loved it. Not as much as "The Name of the Rose" but it was still very enjoyable.

Now I'm off to read "Cryptonomicon" for the forty-eleventh time.

Claire:

Where on earth did you get the notion that an episiotomy is a foregone conclusion in a vaginal birth? Not only is it not a required procedure, they are now discouraged since evidence shows that episiotomies actually take much longer to heal and are far more prone to infection than natural tearing of the skin in the same location.

One of the last times I ever watched the Oprah show: there was an episode years ago about just this thing, how people were going into hock for tens of thousands of dollars for the "perfect" wedding, only to suffer depression and malaise after their "perfect day".

After some probing by some psychology talking-head, a really interesting answer came out from the Perfect Brides. It turns out that this day that they had been planning since they were little girls was all they really wanted; they were totally unprepared for -- and apparently didn't actually want -- a marriage.

Too bad they found that one out too late...

I don't mean to crow or sound superior or anything (well, maybe just a little) but I can't imagine wanting anything like that. I hated my birthday parties when I was little because I couldn't stand being the center of attention like that. I always say that my ideal wedding is a quickie JofP ceremony and a barbecue in the back yard of my grandparent's house. In fact, the best wedding I ever went to was -- ironically -- that of a girl from an extremely wealthy family who probably could have had as extravagant a 'do that she wanted. It turns out that what she wanted was to get married on the back porch of her folks' summer home in Maine, to have their cocktail hour in the front yard (the receiving line was down the gravel driveway along the side of their house!), then to have the reception in the back yard (the catering crew broke down the a 'destination', banquet hall, ridiculous flowers, etc. they blew the dosh to throw a bitchin' party for their friends and family: great band, great food, discount rate on a hotel wedding chairs and set up the dinner tables and buffet while the cocktail hour and photos were happening). It was low-key, homey, friendly, and instead of spending all their money on within walking distance. Totally amazing, and memorable because the entire focus was on the guests and the party, and the real and palpable devotion between the bride and groom.