Discovering a new Day, part I

So how did I get to this point? What makes me think I can, or should, try to open a Catholic Worker House? Am I acting on pride-thinking I can do one better than what is already being done? That is my biggest fear.
It all began about four years ago, I guess something about being pregnant with my first child made me take a look at myself and what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I knew I wanted to make a diference somehow. As a teenager that meant fame and fortune in Hollywood. Hah! Then I wanted to be a writer or photographer and take home the Pulitzer after exposing some grave injustice. But I quickly became disenchanted with life as a journalist. I knew it wasn't for me. I didn't know I was destined to love being a mom-that was still a ways off- so I went searching.
At the time I saw the ill effects of the medical community on my family. Grandparents were suffering with drug side effects from carelessly prescribed pills. Doctors misdiagnosed or didn't seem to care about the people I loved. I was upset and thought God must have had a better plan than this. I turned to alternative medical therapies thinking maybe I'd become some sort of practitioner and heal those harmed by traditional medicine. By cooking up potions in a big black kettle over a roaring fire or maybe by massaging toxins I'd make a difference! But there were so many therapies each one more "natural" than the previous one I read about, and each one contrary to the other. I couldn't decide which to pursue, which one was the true path to health God wanted for me.