I'm serious. Drink. Not a lot. Not to excess. Not more than you normally would. But if you're used to having a glass of wine with dinner, or if you go to a party and want a beer, go ahead.
And while you're at it, why don't you have some brie and sushi, too?
I am not of the school of thought known as Pregnant Until Proven Otherwise. Oh, I used to be. It seemed the only way to be. I mean, how can you consider yourself a good mother if you willfully put your child in danger? And everyone knows how dangerous brie and wine are.
Ok, I'm being funny. But here's the thing: it seems to me that we lesbians who are trying to get pregnant (or are already mothers) try to overcompensate for the strong cultural belief that we are unfit as parents. And so, to that end, we try to be the Most Perfect Parents Ever. Faultless. So we can use our perfection as a defense, a rationale for our desire to parent. There's nothing wrong with trying to be the best parent you can be, unless you're letting someone else define what that best parent you can be looks like, and when that being starts.
Plus, there are overtones of holy suffering to the whole thing. As if, by giving up such things, you prove yourself worthy of becoming pregnant. You show yourself as a worthy vessel -- pure and healthy and uncontaminated. You deserve to be pregnant, because you have given the appropriate sacrifices. As time goes on the sacrifice becomes greater, thus increasing your worthiness and your bitterness if conception doesn't occur. The sacrifice becomes one of not only alcohol and certain foods, but also one of the normalcy of your life. All is miserable: you dangle on a hook. And the comfort you seek when confronted with the knowledge that you didn't conceive yet again (going out for a drink, or the sushi you had denied yourself) becomes another way of suffering, another sacrifice of pleasure on the altar of conception: because the fact that you are indulging is an acknowledgement that you have failed, the comfort is soured.
I refuse to make those sacrifices. My suffering does not make me a more worthy vessel. It does not make me a better mother. Especially as there is nothing yet to benefit from such sacrifices. The fact that there may be a fertilized egg floating around in me does not make me pregnant. If I have a drink, there's no connection between me and the developing cells for the alcohol to speed through and wreak havok. At this point the best thing I can do is take the long view: do what is healthy for me and my body, do what I can to keep myself happy and relaxed, and keep life flowing with as little disruption as possible. Time enough for disruption when that pregnancy test turns positive.* And since I'll be testing early, you can bet that I'll know if I'm really pregnant as soon as possible and can modify my behavior accordingly.
So, until then, I am Not Pregnant Until Proven, and I'll take another Mojito, please.