Chances.

I hate my job.

That's not news to any of yall, I know.

Last month, I finally decided that I have had way more than my body can take, and I'm getting out when my contract is up in September. September seems too far away, but at least it gives me time to find something else.

The way things happened with my last pregnancy was a major factor in my decision. As I told yall several weeks ago, work may have played a huge role in what happened. I have had a very hard time with that. Bryan has been trying to convince me to stick it out for a few more years because it will be better for us financially.

Today I had to see Occupational Health. I learned that most of the stuff I work with on at least a semi-regular basis is considered a major reproductive hazard. Stuff that I have been eyeball deep in for the last year.

And then I learned that most of the supervisors are well aware of that.

Maybe it's just me, but wouldn't it make sense to give a heads up to the lady that can't keep a baby alive inside her?!

They knew that I was going into the last pregnancy after a loss. They knew that I lost a baby due to circumstances that were at least partly their fault. They know that it will be very hard for me to actually have a baby, especially one that comes out ALIVE.

But they didn't think that reproductive hazards were important enough to mention? Seriously?

Even if there was only a very slight chance of being affected, that's still a chance. Statistics haven't exactly been on my side lately. Even a very slight chance is too much of a chance.