From the moment we met, obstetrician Clay Reynolds scorned my profession as a birthing coach. His scathing remarks left me crying on the shoulder of my potbellied pig, Gertie! It seems only the handsome doc's eight-year-old son, who thinks I hung the moon, can make Clay be civil to me. Clay is a great doctor and loving father. And we're finding a lot in common as we volunteer together at a free clinic. But he's still frowning at me in the delivery room. So how can I convince him God gave me skills that complement his own? Maybe with a little help from above I can change Clay's attitude toward doulas in generalab and me in particular.Her body profile was slender but for the ababy bumpa around her middle. She wore a black sleeveless knit top, trim khaki pants, casually expensive black heels and diamonds that would make the ... aI want enough to knit a couple of baby hats .
|Publisher||:||Steeple Hill - 2008-06-01|