My time with wine is limited, and while I’ve slowly started to say goodbye to this trusty ol’ friend of mine, I haven’t yet dumped her fully. I figure since I won’t see her for nine months, she deserves a proper farewell and not an abrupt kick to the curb.
I don’t know about you, but my 9-5 job leaves me wanting a glass — or two — of wine most days of the week. That’s not to say I honor those urges all the time. But most of the time, I come home, put my comfy clothes on, walk the dog, and pour myself some vino. Only recently have I realized just how much this is going to change not only when I get pregnant (God and science willing!), but also when the baby arrives. Actually, I only have about four more days until I pour myself a final glass until Spring, because I start my full IVF cycle of meds and hormones this coming Monday. Eeeek! About the hormones and meds, not the last glass of wine.
Sipping on these early-summer glasses of pinot grigio, I can’t help but think of the ways in which my life is going to change — the ways I can’t even begin to fathom yet. People keep saying vague things to me like, “You have no idea.” And they just smile. Like it’s some great, big secret society of those who know (parents) versus those who don’t know (everyone else, including me). People keep warning me to get sleep now, while I can. And I do. Hours upon hours of sleep each night. On average, eight to nine hours. I do love my sleep. But, like wine, I’m getting ready to say goodbye to it.
That’s the thing about planning a pregnancy: Everything becomes nostalgic. A big deal. There’s no just getting thrown into a situation — which, to be honest, I actually do better under those circumstances: Adjust or drown. But every stinkin’ thing is related to or associated with preparing for pregnancy or preparing for baby, and something as simple as my period suddenly becomes an emotionally big and significant deal.
As does a glass of wine.
Read more of Aela’s writing at Two Moms Make A Right