I have heard about “mother’s guilt.” But I thought that started when you actually were a mother.
I always thought I would be one of those mothers who was vigilant about not doing anything bad during their pregnancy. I would not touch Diet Coke. I would not let alcohol touch my lips. I would run away screaming if someone smoked nearby.
Here is a brief list of all of the “feel-so-guilty” things I have done (and not done) in the last week — which could wind up being Week 3 of my pregnancy:
That’s quite a list, isn’t it? Every time I would forget and pick up a Diet Coke, Darling Husband would shoot me this “Are-you-sure-you-should-be-drinking-that?” look. It was cute of him to be concerned, so I would finish it and then switch to water.
But part of me was just annoyed with this “maybe” phase. Sure, once I am actually pregnant, I will not order Diet Coke, or regular tea — at least not regularly. But I might not be yet.
As the weekend went on, I felt more like I was probably hallucinating those symptoms, I found it seemed silly not to have a Diet Coke. It became a conflicted inner monologue, every time I was asked for my drink order.
This month might be my last chance to have it for a while!
But it might already be too late. Maybe I shouldn’t.
It’s not a martini — it’s a soft drink! Have one.
But I feel SO GUILTY.
Thinking back to my trusty guide, it said a lot of stuff like “Oh? You smoked crack before knowing you were pregnant? No biggie! Just lay off the crack for now.”
So really, a few sips of champagne, a few Diet Cokes, and a weekend of general unhealthy eating is not a big deal.
I’m Heather Laura Clarke. I’m a writer living in beautiful Nova Scotia, I have a 12-year-old son and a 10-year-old daughter, I married my high school sweetheart, and this is the story of my handmade life.
I have depression and anxiety, and I fight like hell every day to keep them from taking over my life. Creating things helps.
Whether I’m writing novels, decorating a room, busting out my power tools to build furniture, getting muddy in the pottery studio, sewing clothes, or cross-stitching a swear word, I’m all about using my creativity to craft a life I love.
I’ve been writing this blog since 2009, so if you dig deep into the archives, you’ll meet a bright-eyed 25-year-old newlywed who was basically obsessed with having kids, buying a cozy house, and supporting herself full-time with her writing. (Spoiler alert: she got exactly what she wanted.)