You might think that a baby shower would be a booze free event. Possibly a glass or two of champagne to toast the mum-to-be but nothing more. Well, the shower I went to last night was nothing like that. It was really an excuse for a great big party, and I think it was the biggest test of my sobriety so far.
I haven’t exactly been living like a hermit since I stopped drinking but I have been avoiding events where I would normally drink. Last night was something I really couldn’t get out of and besides, part of me did want to go.
I started to panic when I realised the invite said please bring a bottle. I know the hostess well and she’s the type who makes sure your glass is never empty. Getting a soft drink out of her would be a lot harder than ordering one in a pub. Then there was talk of going to a few bars after the party. All this was swirling faster and faster round my head. A little voice said: you are going to miss out if you don’t drink. Why don’t you just have one. It’s not fair that everyone else can drink. It’s not like you’re the one who’s pregnant!
Thankfully Belle made me realise that this was just the wolf talking. I think it’s Unpickled who calls this her Itty Bitty Shitty committee. I like both these descriptions. Personally I imagine the alcoholic devil on my shoulder looking and sounding a bit like Smeagol from Lord of the Rings. Come here my precious…
The thought of some half-naked Hobbit trying to derail my sobriety seemed so ridiculous I decided I would go to the party. I pushed the bad thoughts to the back of my mind and somehow I ended up having a BRILLIANT time.
I helped myself to a diet coke and made sure my glass was never empty. I think only one person asked why I wasn’t drinking. I said I was too tired to stomach any wine, as I’d just come off a run of night shifts, which was actually true. It was so nice being able to chat with friends without worrying about how much wine I had left in my glass, and whether or not anyone would think I was greedy if I topped it up myself. I didn’t mind that people got tipsy and giggly and a bit silly. I haven’t laughed so much in ages. I stayed quite late but left before anyone got really drunk or boring drunk.
Looking at the photos posted on Facebook I have to say I looked pretty good (even though I was dog tired). I know this sounds like a big-headed, vain thing to say. But until today, the most recent photo of me on Facebook was taken on the 6th April at a lunch with some girlfriends. It was my first day sober and I was still very hungover from the night before. In that photo my face looks puffy and my eyes are tiny, even though I’m wearing a lot of make up. I’m wearing a baggy top to hide my bloated stomach. I’m smiling in the photo but I remember feeling so horrible and not really wanting to be there.
What a difference 12 days make!