So the other day, I am at Marshall’s and the woman in front of me in line strikes up a conversation.  She seems very nice and we start to talk about my dog (so of coarse I instantly love her because anyone who wants to talk about my dog is automatically awesome).  Then out of left field, she asks me if I am pregnant.  Now I know that I’m wearing a scrub top (which is not too flattering) and that I may have eaten a little too much pie over the holidays, but by any means I do NOT look pregnant. Now this would be a heinous offence to any woman, but to someone who has had a chemical pregnancy, a miscarriage with a D and C, and is undergoing infertility treatment, this is especially cruel.  I pride myself on being a kind and compassionate person, but in that moment I wanted to make that woman feel as awful and guilty as possible, so I told her that my husband and I had been trying for a long time with no luck.  Here is the kicker….I felt bad!  That’s right, I start backpedaling to make this woman feel less embarrassed.  I laugh it off and say oh it’s just some extra padding for the winter.  So now here I am trying to make this woman, who made be feel like crap, feel better.  I just can’t be mean like that. I’m sure she feels badly already without me rubbing it in.  So the moral of this story is that I tend to enjoy meeting new people, but sometimes I really do just hate people, if only for a minute, and that’s okay.

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