I went to brunch yesterday with some of my friends. There were a couple of ladies there that I didn't know. They were nice enough. At one point in the conversation, everyone was talking about their various baby/child woes. It was a perfectly normal conversation for a bunch of 30-something year old wives but... well, y'all can guess how I started to feel. There I sat in my wig and 10 layers of eyeliner (hides my sparse eyelashes), nodding and smiling and trying not to burst into tears.
The chicks there that know me were trying to steer the conversation in other directions, but I was like, "it's fine." I'd rather listen to others btch about their kids than discuss my damn chemo treatments and if my wig is hot and annoying.
..