The Last Boozy Weekend

One of the things any infertile will tell you is what a mindf*** this whole process is. It's actually twenty different kinds of mindf***s, but today I'm just going to focus on one. I call it the "maybe this is the last time we'll ever...." mindf***.

I can't tell you how many times over the last two years one of the following things have either come out of my mouth or gone through my mind:

"Maybe this is the last time I'll have my period for a year!" (yeah, right)
"Maybe this is the last time we'll go on vacation without worrying about our kids!"
"Maybe this is the last time we'll go to Disneyland without having to ride Dumbo!"
"Maybe this is the last Christmas/Easter/Halloween/St. Patrick's Day/Flag Day that it will be just the two of us!"
"Maybe this is the last time I'll be eating sushi/soft cheese/deli meat/paint chips for a loooong time!"

And perhaps my personal favorite:

"Maybe we should open that second bottle of Pinot, since I may not be able to drink for much longer!"

Let's just say we've been through a lot of bottles of Pinot. I know, I know, the doctor suggested I cut down, but how can I help it when THIS MIGHT BE THE LAST BOTTLE EVER?!?!?

So, while we didn't exactly binge this weekend, let's just say that with Lu.pr.on shots beginning later this week, I did not pass up any opportunities to enjoy my beloved fruit of the vine to its fullest extent. Will I swear it off completely during this process? Probably not. But it won't be the same. Oh, the injustice of it all!

But as any infertile will tell you, I'd give up all of the Pinot in the world (and, OK, all of the sushi, rollercoasters, and kid-free vacations) for a little peanut.