Mmmm, chemicals
Even someone like me who isn’t particularly good with babies, who looks at them and says things like “Hey, buddy. Look at your little face,” before resorting to peek-a-boo and than running of out material, even I try to err on the side of caution when it comes to most chemicals. After years of wondering if I was cut out to be a mother, I’m relieved that the instinct to protect this baby is so strong, or at least the image of me smoking a Camel while sipping a Jameson’s as hair dye sets in and self-tanner absorbs is so shameful, that I figure all of my favorite chemicals can wait.
And I really love chemicals. I had no idea how much I took them for granted until now. I miss you, toxins.
Being pregnant has made me feel toward booze and Xanax and Retin-A the way Emily from “Our Town” felt about food, new ironed dresses, hot baths and milk delivered to your door. She didn’t appreciate the simple things in life until she returned as a ghost to Grover’s Corners, lived one day as her 12 year old self, and asked the question all pre-teen girls agonize over while performing Emily’s big monologue at theatre camp: “Does anyone ever realize life while they live it?”
What I mean is that I never appreciated safe and guilt-free drug use until it was gone. Did I just compare not using Klonopin to dying? Is that overblown? Someone get me to Samuel French because I’m feeling dramatic.
I knew nicotine was bad. I quit smoking my two after-dinner puffy treats at 10 weeks or so. Though I was never John Wayne with the smokes, we went way back together, and I always thought letting go of one or two cigarettes would be easy.
Right now, I don’t want to smoke just a couple.
I want to sit in bed and chain-smoke high on half a Vicodin and watch a couple of documentaries from Netflix like I used to do on a Friday night when the mood struck. If smoking calms nerves, I’ve never been more nervous than I am about this baby, how he’s doing in there, how he is going to get out, when I’m going to ascertain the meaning of the word “layette” or make myself care about the best brand of disposable nipple pads. However, it’s comforting to know my first maternal instincts outweigh nicotine addiction and habit and several bassinets full of anxiety. (more…)
