I just left my job. I really hated it, I hated the way I was treated, I hated the way everyone was treated. I had to take an anxiety pill just to go to work. Heck, I just had to pop an anxiety pill in order to go in and quit. I was only working 9 hours a week anyhow, and yes, that is still 80 dollars a week, but in the end, it wasn’t worth it to have to deal with. I am taking in a little bit of babysitting on the side to supplement my income and already have one gig lined up. With someone I worked with. Her looking for a sitter was my final push to quitting.
I’ve worked when pregnant before, but never in the first trimester, not without losing the baby. Maybe this is superstition, this not wanting to work while trying to get pregnant. I think the stress of my job, while it shouldn’t have been that stressful, probably didn’t help much.
I told my second to the highest manager to stay in touch. It was her I quit to. She is just discovering her own infertility. She hasn’t had a period since she was 14, and she is 27 now. I am directing her to doctors and where to look online. She says she has spotted and such, but not really had any real period. She wants to be a mom really bad, and I get that. I hurt for her. I was friends with her before the job, so I will be able to continue to talk to her no problem. I did let her know that the manager who is pregnant now, due when I am, who announced while I was still miscarrying was part of the reason I was leaving. I made it out to be all me, and nothing to do with the fact that she has let her hormones make her into a bitch (I am not alone in that thought, btw.)
Well, I am off to make my collard greens for dinner. May this year be better than last, though I know I have a death in my future, when it comes to my aunt, so it probably won’t be.