An ode to that glass of full, fatty, white wine

I became pregnant particularly quickly – after just one month of trying – and I know that is a miracle. Because there are also a lot of women for whom it doesn't go that smoothly.

Still, the big news did overwhelm me a bit. It just happened very quickly. On average, a woman who no longer uses contraception is expecting after six months. That time to get used to everything I didn't have. The time to say goodbye to that full fatty Chardo either. Yes really, I miss that good glass of wine quite a bit. Quite a lot actually. Is it weird to say that when you're pregnant? No idea, I'm saying it anyway.

The nausea has finally subsided a bit and honestly: a dinner on Friday or Saturday night is just not the same with that sparkling water. Meeting up with friends has also shifted a bit from the evening to the afternoon. Not a big deal, I go to bed at nine these days anyway. But even in the afternoon, wine is nice, I can tell you, after years of practice. It's really not easy to suddenly never be able to join in for a drink, while your friends next to you are toasting with a vino. You smell it. You see it. You remember it. But you can't have it.

Maybe it's also a bit because it's now so forbidden. Look, you can drink 0.0 beer just fine, but I find that a bit silly, because that's just weird lemonade when you think about it. A non-alcoholic cocktail is seriously really good to have. It's genuinely nice, in a restaurant. But after one glass, it comes out of your ears again and you just sadly switch to water. And a mint tea on the side, great. Wine, there's no substitute for that, for all pregnant women. Not only regarding that divine taste of an excellent Malbec. You now have no outlet for all your tensions, nerves, and frustrations, while you really need that in this time of your life. That's why an ode to my great friend named Chardonnay. I can't wait to see you again, somewhere at the end of March, beginning of April 2019.

I'm really not a drunkard or an alcoholic and I can easily not drink for nine months, but still. It should be said. The father-to-be can drink beers until he falls over, and the mother-to-be has to stick to ginger tea. Not fair. And nine monthsis also quite long. Just think of all the holidays that are still to come. You feel me? I do it gladly, for the little ones, with so much love, and I feel very happy about the fact that I'm pregnant, but still...

When they finally arrive on a beautiful day, then mama can have a Friday of fun and papa can deal with diapers, okay?