This week I had that awful glucose tolerance test. I haven't been that jittery since I inadvertently poured myself a cup of coffee from my coworker's "double-strength" pot about ten months ago. Although my glucose test was first thing in the morning, the feeling lasted into early afternoon. About 1:30 that afternoon I thought, "A glass of wine would be nice right about now."
Alas, it was not to be. For one, I was at work. And second, of course, I'm pregnant.
Some of you may think I am just awful for even thinking about this while gestating a child, but I admit it, I miss wine. I miss having a glass with meals, or when out at a friend's house. I also admit I've had a few sips of my husband's wine or beer when the occasion has presented itself. I know full well the risks of alcohol in general and during pregnancy in particular, but I envy just a little the pregnant Italian woman I imagine sitting down to a hearty meal with her family that includes a nice glass of Chianti.
Then again, given the choice between that woman's Chianti, or her end of the meal cannoli, I can't decide. Half of each?
I'm not missing any old wine, either. I'm missing my favorites. I'm missing the really good wines - the kind where I write down the brands and varieties for future reference. I'm thinking about the possibility of enjoying them again, and the foods I will choose to eat with them. I'm reading about wines in the cooking magazines and salivating not a little. And I am planning what will be my first post birth treat.
After Aaron was born, my request was for a favorite Bonny Doon dessert wine, with a fruit tart from a favorite bakery. It was a celebratory evening, and we shared our little victory treat with my brother-in-law and his wife. I can almost still taste it, even if the wine was served in small paper Dixie cups, as that was all that was available on the post-partum ward of the hospital. I remember the complex sweet flavors of the wine and fruit as such a contrast to the over sweet Italian ice available to me while I was in labor and just after. I remember the feeling of the wine rolling smoothly over my tongue and down my throat. Aahhh. The discomfort I felt from the actual birth didn't mind how the wine felt either.
Now approximately eleven weeks until I meet this little child, I have been sighted, obviously pregnant, contemplating the selections at the local wine shop thinking about just what will be my post birth treat. I get stares from a few of the other customers, shocked looks from others, and smiles from some. I ignore them. Which of my favorites are available in splits, I wonder. Do I want to go with the dessert wine again, or some champagne? Maybe a hearty red to go with that impressive hospital food, or with take-out brought in from one of the nicer local restaurants. Will it be too much of a pain to appropriately chill a good white?
All the while, I am thinking not only of the actual treat, but reminding myself that soon enough this pregnancy will be over. The time when this little boy will not be curled under by belly button, causing it to stick out, but lying on top of it, resting on my probably still ample abdomen. Hopefully healthy and content.
As this pregnancy winds down, it also becomes harder and slower in some ways. The physical bigness combined with the waiting and anticipating. I'm sure that the last four weeks ago will seem to last forever. I hope that I will have sense enough during that time to think back over the months of pregnancy and recognize the amazing thing happening within my body (and I'm not talking about the development of cellulite!). That's reason enough to plan a little celebration, don't you think?
That said, I'm leaning toward a red.