They say that pregnancy can leave your emotions to be, shall we say slightly uncontrollable. So it would be nice if the universe could once in a while go “hey, maybe I shouldn’t push that pregnant lady over the edge.” Alas, that would be a perfect world. Hell, a perfect world would see a stork delivering my baby and my body being left intact.
Last Tuesday was the glorious fist trimester ultrasound. We saw our baby flip and kick, counted limbs and found out that our baby is not only healthy but in the 70th percentile. Go figure a hundred pound girl is going to have a gigantic baby. We spent the rest of our day texting the photos to friends and family and dreamily shopping for baby items. My husband even uploaded the pictures to Facebook, and we basked in the congratulations we received. I was riding high to say the least.
That night my mom called me. Odd for her to be up late… But I went with it. She informed my that my Grandpy was in the hospital with congenital heart failure. With that, my mood plummeted. I’m at the other side of the country and completely useless. I prayed that my baby would get to meet his or her Great-Grandpa.
To throw another loop into the mix, a teaser trailer was finally released for a film I did last year. I could finally share our hard work with everyone, and I was ecstatic. And mixed up to say the least. What’s the etiquette on sharing good news during a family member’s sickness? Can I use my baby’s attention on Facebook to promote my film in good ol’ tabloid fashion? I decided good news is good news, so shared away. Not only has the film gotten attention from family and friends- but also an assortment of blogs on the Internet. I have my fingers crossed that I’ll be baby-bumping at TIFF a la Natalie Portman at the Oscars and Reese Witherspoon at Cannes.
Over the weekend news of my pregnancy spread like wildfire, and I was again getting to talk about all things baby without having to initiate it. No one wants to be the boring pregnant lady who can only speak about the miracle of life that’s inside of her, but if people ask I’m not going to deprive myself of the opportunity. An attention-whore at heart, I chattered away happily and finally got to use my one-liners that my husband has been getting bored of. “How are you going to fit a baby, you’re so small?!” “I’m pretty sure by the end the baby is just going to be wearing me like a Lady Gaga meat dress.” Laugh dammit!
On Sunday, my Grandpy was released from the hospital and my life was looking up! It was a huge relief that they found a medicine for him. Turns out the universe is kinder than I thought.
Then yesterday, to send me for one last plummet, the VA sent me a letter (after a year of waiting) saying they aren’t paying for my schooling even though they approved my program before I went! I was heart broken. Sure, at this point I’ve paid off the debt, but how nice would the money have been to start a college fund for my own child? I would be $12,000 ahead in life if they had paid me in the first place. Fuck, I’d take half the money they owe me- anything to help patch the hole in my finances they created. Sure, I have an education regardless- but I would have gotten my education elsewhere had they told me from the start. I would never have transferred schools and left behind a $4,000 scholarship. I understand they have to make sure their money goes where it is needed, but I have letter after letter stating that I’m entitled to benefits only to have them say that my program was never approved.
Last night I sat on the couch going from sobbing to laughing so sporadically my dog was freaked out. And I can’t even blame the hormones! Two of the best and worst things occurred this week- in a single week! From baby, to almost losing a loved one, to my film finally getting attention to being out over $12,000- it’s enough to give anyone whiplash.
Yet, as I write this, all I can do is laugh to myself and say, “Fuck, that’s life!” I’ve never been one to hold grudges or stay in a bad mood for long- it’s just no fun. Sure, I’m angry at the universe for dishing out crap when I just want to skip through a meadow and be happy but why can’t I skip along anyways? You always laugh hardest after a cry anyway. On the bright side, at least I’ve managed to survive the beginning of the zombie apocalypse. And thanks to Zombieland and my humble redneck origins (there’s a reason the cast of The Walking Dead are southern), I’m prepared to kick some zombie-ass. Double tap.