I will always remember the day that I found out I was pregnant with my son. That day was March 17, 2012. I wish I could tell you that the reason I remember that day is because I made a special print of a photo of the pregnancy test or that I have that date forever marked on my calendar. The truth is, I am not that sentimental. The reason I remember that date is because it was St. Patrick's Day, and I didn't want to drink if I was pregnant.
My husband and I had intended for me to conceive for the past few months, so I was taking pregnancy tests like it was my job. And like many new moms to be, I got those early detection tests so as not to miss a single moment of pregnancy.
On St. Patrick's Day 2012, I took one such test. My period was still a day or two away, but I couldn't wait. Plus there was that whole worry about getting drunk thing. Sure enough, the test revealed a very faint line, indicating that I was indeed pregnant.
The pee had barely dried on the stick, when I ran into our bedroom to share the news with my husband. After we came down from our high of excitement, we both had the same thought: how was I, a person who did drink, get through one of the drunkest days of the year, without a single drop of alcohol? More importantly, how would I be able to keep my newly discovered pregnancy a secret without raising suspicions as to why I wasn’t imbibing with the rest of our crew?
Turns out, surrounded by people so immersed in their own revelry, nobody suspected a thing. Sipping on ginger ales all night, I guess people assumed I was tossing back seven and sevens all day. While everyone around me was getting drunker, I remained sober and gleeful with my secret. Even at dinner that night, when everyone else was drinking wine, and I was sipping on water, no one questioned me. Had I really made it through the day without anyone calling me out?
Several weeks later, when I became public with my pregnancy, we all laughed at how I was able to get through that day. For me, it will always be a reminder of how much I had to celebrate. I’m not sure being able to drink copious amounts of green beer would have made it any better.
I am now seven months pregnant with my second child, and once again, the news of my pregnancy came in anticipation of another occasion for drinking. This time, it was a trip to Newport, R.I. I had cut back on alcohol tremendously since my first pregnancy, but I was not sober, and I knew people might suspect something. We decided not to hide it this time, and shared the news with our friends.
It may be a coincidence that the news of my pregnancies fell around times of fun and celebration. Or maybe my friends and I partied more than I realized. Whatever the case, knowing that I was pregnant made those times more memorable, and I didn’t miss the alcohol.
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