My dear: this is what the first hangover after your delivery feels like

I am sitting in the back of the car and holding a spit cloth from my son anxiously in front of my mouth. I am almost certain that I won't make the next turn.

It was a day that started as lunch on a terrace and ended in a very, very late evening. It was allowed: I had arranged a babysitter and well, I was due for it, after all the misery surrounding the birth and after those nine, ten months of sobriety. A friend with thirst was summoned and off we went. Nice dress on, bitterballen on the side, and chatting away. Those evenings when you still wisely want to order an espresso to mask that third glass of wine, but that espresso ends up being a huge espresso martini ‘because it's so cozy’. Really fun and laughter. But yes, you are always a mother, even with a headache. The babysitter inevitably always leaves at some point. Unfortunately.

I remember it again, back there in that car, between two car seats. I remember it very well. This is what real hangovers are. And what I definitely did not miss, those nine, ten months of sobriety. Moreover, it is a miserable summer in the Netherlands but this blissful Sunday it is thankfully over 30 degrees. It really helps when you see green.

I have learned my lesson and I won't be going to that terrace for a while, please. The first hangover after your birth is perhaps the worst. I thought I could still do it, that fun drinking along with everyone: but no. I have to change diapers 24/7 and clean bottles and do laundry and comfort babies and I never sleep anymore: other thirsty friends don't have that. Plus: you feel damn guilty. Guilty that you were home late and immediately dove into bed. You feel like a bad mother and a bad partner. It is a struggle as a young mother, as a ‘new’ mother: you want to be that fun rosé-all-day friend like before, but also that very best I-am-always-home-dear and I-have-folded-your-onesie-nicely mother. I also feel a bit lost and unstable during that first hangover. Was it worth it? Yes, it was fun. But my babies then? Did they miss me that one evening? Pfff. It feels like I can't do anything right anywhere anymore. Not at home, not on a terrace. Whatever choice I make: it's not good. At least, it seems so.

Fortunately, I think a bit clearer in the days that follow. I have figured it out. My tip: do it sometimes and when you do it, do it well. Arrange a babysitter and an end time. Go out with really fun people around you and espresso martinis that are worth the thirst after the night feeding. But especially don't do it too often. Because you are also a mom in tough (hungover) times and your babies prefer not to see a green head hanging over them in a car seat.

Over nine, ten months then again, friend? Thank goodness it will be winter then and those dangerous terraces will have long been cleared and packed away. Thank goodness.