Right after my doctor told me I would lose this baby, I had to go to class. Then work. Obviously that was not a good day, but you do what you have to do. At work, people asked me how my appointment went, and, not being one who has any personal life whatsoever, simply because I don't really care if you know everything about me- I told them.
There was a girl working who I had never met before, because at the sandwich shop I work at, they've employed 36 people. So I am sure there are a lot of people I don't know. She hears me talk about my 95% chance of miscarrying, and, without hesitating, turns to me and says:
"You probably won't miscarry if you start eating well and maybe gain some weight."
She doesn't say it in a mean tone. She actually meant it as a helpful statement. She was lucky I was in a non-insane-lady-mood.
THEN, last night, Jamie and I were running a small errand, to buy cake or something equally important, and we ran into a guy from work. He asked me why I wasn't at work, and when I told him, he said that I probably miscarried because I've been under a lot of stress lately.
Because this was my fault. And I guess everyone who gets pregnant and goes along to have nice healthy, happy babies- I guess THOSE people are NEVER stressed ever.
I really hate people sometimes, and really what are sporks good for besides removing people's eyeballs?
This is nice. Why don't people realize this?