Babies, Booze and Boobs

Before I got pregnant with Dessa, I remember thinking that I would be the kind of pregnant chick who could throw back a glass of wine here and there, maybe even a beer or two. I thought nothing of it. If I wanted a drag—just one innocent, half-assed drag of a cigarette—I would be cool with it and it wouldn't be the end of the world. I even once offered to be my dear pregnant friend's secret keeper if she ever needed a drag while preggos. I figured if Jackie O and Catherine Zeta Jones could do it, why not me?

Pretty much the second I found out I was pregnant all that went out the window. I stayed as far away from alcohol and cigarettes as humanly possible. Once I gave birth I was sure I'd get back to being my wine loving self. Everyone failed to mention that I had to be uber careful about breastfeeding and drinking, unless, of course, I wanted a drunk baby. So, Dessa was born and I stayed away from alcohol for another 3 months. Not hard to do considering I could barely stay awake past 10pm and I had turned into a mami obsessed with all things organic and natural. Even after 3 months, I organized my boozing around Dessa's feedings and was too nervous to ever have more than a half a glass of wine, chased promptly by 5 glasses of water.

Before Dessa I loved to throw back cocktails with friends until the wee hours of the morning and recap the night over a big yummy noon time brunch. I even liked taking a turn at the ice luge every now and then. Well, those days are certainly over for the time being. I don't miss them really. I miss what those days represent; being young, carefree, and without responsibilities. I can't say it any better than Anna Fricke did, writing for the NY Times about being a new mom, "So it's not the alcohol I miss. It's the immaturity. The selfishness. The wasted days frittered away recuperating from the wasted nights."

I'm not counting down to the time until I can get back to those days. I love my early bedtime and cherish my expanding family. I just wish, sometimes, that I could be that selfish and irresponsible again—even for a split second, just so I can see if that person is still somewhere in me.