Hurst's First – An Adventure in Having a Baby

“I miss acting like idiots”

on October 19, 2012


It wasn’t until one night, a “date night” that I realized how difficult part of this pregnancy has been for Suzanne.

Perhaps naively I always thought that the pregnant woman is so overjoyed about impending motherhood that she is only concerned about the baby and her health and not much else matters.

Eat healthy. Exercise moderately. Live correctly. That seemed to be it. And she seemed to be fine doing those things.

However, as I ordered a glass of wine with my dinner, she said something that took me aback.

“I miss acting like idiots.”

I knew exactly what she meant.

Loading up on liquor was one of the most fun things we did in our lives together. Bottomless mimosa brunches, free drinks from our bartender friends, sitting at home with a cocktail and then dusting a bottle of wine with dinner, pitchers of beer, followed by more pitchers of beer on football Sundays.

Those things led to dancing in our living room, beer pong at a dive bar, taking shots or Irish car bombs and really good, heavily-buzzed conversations.

Were we really idiots or were we just enjoying our twenties and early thirties without having to be responsible for anything other than finding a burrito at 2 am?

In the lead-up to this portion of the pregnancy I had read several items in books about the husband’s role over the nine months. Many of them said the same things: thanks for your seed, now get out of the way, but be supportive and try cutting back on your drinking.

So I asked Suzanne if she felt that way.

“Honey, it’s weird enough that I’m not drinking. It would be even weirder if both of us weren’t drinking.”

If that isn’t true love, then I don’t know what is.

Not too distant future.

But, honestly, I miss my drinking partner. She was the best. Sitting and listening to music with each other and a cocktail on the deck was something we each enjoyed as the sun set on another beautiful day.

When you lift your glass, think of Suzanne. Make a promise to yourself that you’ll buy her a drink when the time comes.

Me? I look forward to putting on a baby Bjorn, toting around Junior Hurst in the house with a beer in one hand, a glass of wine in my wife’s and hoping some good music comes on so we can wobble together – the three of us – on our living room dance floor.

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