A heavily pregnant woman is buying cigarettes. While I personally don’t approve, she has ID, and I can’t deny the sale, so I ring her up. Despite my saying nothing, the customer is immediately antagonistic.

Customer: “Judging me already, huh?”

Me: “What? No? I’m just selling you your cigarettes.”

Customer: “Then why’d you give me the packet that says, ‘Smoking while pregnant can cause birth defects and disabilities’?!”

Me: “Oh, I didn’t notice. I just grabbed the closest pack of the size and brand you asked for.”

Customer: “Uh-huh, suuuure you did. People like you are what’s wrong with society! Why are you so scared of disabled children? What’s wrong with disabled people? You’re just another example of an ableist a**hole who wants to police what women do with their bodies!”

Me: “Ma’am, I have literally said nothing to you other than telling you the total for your cigarettes and asking you for ID. Nothing more.”

Customer: “I could tell from your face!” 

Me: “So, you’re calling me a sexist ableist just from my face, but I’m the judgemental one?”

She pauses.

Customer: “You’re lucky I didn’t record this and blast you online!” *Storms off*

I work at a big box toy store, and I have just finished a long all-night shift bringing in extra stock for the holidays. I am tired, I am pregnant, and I am ready to head home and sleep.

Customer: “You! You’re walking too fast! You don’t make it easy for customers to get assistance!” 

Me: “Oh, well, I am actually off the clock, but if you—” 

Customer: “You’re an employee in the store, and I am a customer. Whatever else you’ve got going on can wait!”

Me: “I really can’t help you, but if you—”

Customer: “I need a [toy] for my son for his birthday! Do I need to talk to your managers about how you ruined my son’s birthday because you refused to help me?!”

I lead her to the instruments aisle.

Customer: “This is music! I wanted a [toy]!”

I pick up one of the ukuleles.

Me: “I don’t have a tiny violin, so this will have to do.”

My managers weren’t too happy with me for that one, but I was about to start maternity leave, so they chalked it up to “hormones”.

CONTENT WARNING: Blood

My husband and I went on daily walks while working from home during the [global health crisis]. I was pregnant at the time, so it was especially important to get some movement in.

I started getting a lot of nosebleeds during the winter, which my obstetrician assured me was normal during pregnancy. We were out for an afternoon walk when my nose suddenly started to bleed. We’re talking out of nowhere, a flood of blood like the elevator doors opening in “The Shining”.

We were about a block from home at that point, but I didn’t have tissues or anything on hand to stop the absolute torrent of blood.

My husband ran home while I leaned over a fence. I was heavily dripping blood, but standing that way meant it dripped on the ground instead of pouring down my face or clothes.

He ran back a few minutes later with tissues to help staunch the blood long enough for me to get home.

Husband: “I hope none of the neighbors saw that! You’re doubled over bleeding from the nose as I run away from my pregnant wife!”

My coworker announced that she was pregnant with her third child. This would be my first time working with her while she was pregnant, so when the discussion came about whether we should pool together our money for some baby gifts, I was excited and was all in. We also decided to turn it into a small party, and we would each make a dish for lunch.

The tricky part of this is my coworker is allergic to many things — dairy, gluten, shellfish, tree nuts, tomatoes, certain fruits, and many more things. We have talked about her allergies before when discussing what to get for takeout lunches, but we hadn’t committed the list to memory. Over the course of two or three weeks, we would try to have her allergies naturally come into conversation, and someone not talking to her would write down the good foods and the bad foods. When we were pretty confident that we had gotten enough, we shared the list with everyone in the office.

The day of the party arrived, and we set up the table while my coworker was on her morning break. When she came back, we led her to the table, and she was surprised by all of the gifts. Once she opened the gifts, we started to bring out lunch. We went around the room explaining our dishes and what ingredients were included and/or excluded. She realized we had all made the dishes specifically to fit with her diet, and she burst into tears, saying that it was one of the nicest things that had happened to her.

It was a rewarding feeling, to be able to do something so small as make lunch for someone and get that reaction.

Going forward, we don’t make everything without her allergens, but we do make sure there are at least a few dishes she can have, and we prevent cross-contamination whenever possible.

My first granddaughter owes her existence not least to the idiocy of her grandparents who failed to tell their daughter properly that the medication she had to take to suppress (read: reduce the frequency of) epileptic seizures interfered with the [birth control] pill.

Her grandmother couldn’t (and still can’t) cope with the illness, and her grandfather (me) was too embarrassed to talk to his daughter about sex and contraception.