We went through "infertility hell" for few years, with two different docs: One who had the bedside manner of Josef Mengele and one who needs to be nominated for sainthood now while he's alive to enjoy it.
It didn't work, so we waited for adoption which finally happened, with our boy being placed with us at the age of four weeks. (It's for the best. He's the perfect kid for us, and if we'd had a child biologically that kid would be loved, enjoyed, celebrated, and nurtured, but the cosmic balance of the universe would be off because the wrong kid would be living upstairs.)
Nevertheless, with our son being age 15, taller than I am (so's his mom) and a deep basso profundo, the psychological pain of the infertility process is still a strong memory; it isn't easy living with constant attempts to have, and failure to achieve, the thing you want most as a couple.
Nadya Suleman and her doctor have taken this very real crisis in the lives of some people and made it a farce, a joke, a hateful caricature. She clearly is a person who has a deep need to be noticed, and this clearly is some sort of plan to be famous in a nation that worships celebrity, even when the person in question has done nothing worth celebrating. She has taken the very precious, private, personal desire for a child and turned it into a damned circus.
I'm afraid I'm one of the folks who believes the children should be taken from her. She should never have been treated in the first place. (I can just hear our second doc, the good one, cussin' up a storm at this guy who treated her; he would tell you that any treatment resulting in octuplets is malpractice.) And the doc needs to be banned from ever practicing medicine again. And possibly be made financially liable for all 8 of those kids and their expenses.
And don't even get me started on the reporters who are irresponsible enough to give this fame addict air-time.
I'll stop now. This woman makes me sick.