Walkaway Joe

QUICKIE: Vincenzo, smiling at me: “Mom, I can’t keep my happy face on forever!”
You know that guy who you really tried to fall in love with, I mean who you really wanted it to work out with, but who you finally had to end it with because his jaw always clicked when he was eating or because he spoke French with a Texas twang or because he foamed at the mouth a little when he ran?  But he was really, really nice and would have done anything for you?  And your mom loved him too?

Well, I used to hang out with this guy Joe.  We spent time together every morning and some afternoons, too, and our time together always felt luxurious, sacred, and almost perfect…except for the sudden, pressing need to brush my teeth the minute he was gone.  But let me tell you, he was hot!!  And black!  And his name—his name—was Coffee.

I hate coffee when I’m pregnant.  In fact, the very first indication I’m pregnant is that I give up my morning cuppa and declare coffee the most disgusting substance on planet earth.  (And I should know—I’m addicted to Planet Earth and just this week have seen birds building nests entirely out of spit and glow worms reeling lines of gooey saliva laden with writhing moths back into their mouths.  That’s Kool-aid next to coffee.)  I hate the smell of coffee, I hate the taste of it, and I especially hate Folgers commercials when I’m pregnant.

But the thing is, despite all this, I really miss coffee.  Nothing can replace those sacred moments in the morning when it’s just me and my coffee.  The guilty pleasure of buying a second Starbucks in one day.  The thrill of saying “yes” to a cup of espresso after 7PM.

Now don’t get all Dr. Phil on me and suggest I have a nice cup of tea instead because you know as well as I do that that’s like eating fruit for dessert.  To stick with the dating metaphor, it’s like substituting Brad Pitt with Mr. Bean, or at least substituting Brad Pitt’s teeth with Mr. Bean’s teeth.

I’m 34 weeks pregnant today, and since my OB is inducing labor early, a mere five weeks stand between me and my joyous reunion with coffee—which makes me incredibly nervous.  What if I can’t conjure up those old feelings of amore?  What if Starbucks’ special blend has changed since we last hooked up?  What if I like coffee but coffee doesn’t like me?  I think I’m less afraid of labor than of my first sip of coffee after labor.  At least for labor I can get an epidural to block the pain, but no epidural can block the pain of losing my coffee love.

Well, if worst comes to worst, I guess there’s always Bird’s Nest Soup

Maple glazed salmon
Roasted potatoes
Salad with strawberries, goat cheese, and toasted almonds

4 thoughts on “Walkaway Joe

  1. I’ve never really much cared for the taste of coffee…which comes in handy when you are Mormon, but I love to smell it!

    Also Walkaway Joe by Trisha Yearwood is one of my all time favorite country songs!

  2. this post is so interesting to me. I don’t like coffee, EVER…..and I had no real aversions while pregnant. I do like reading about them though. Pregnancy is such an interesting beast.

  3. OMG!!!! So, I guess you have to be a coffee drinker to really get this post. I was laughing SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOhard I had to call Larry into the room to read the post ( he also laughed). I can totally relate to every emotion you expressed and I am happy to report that the love affair resumed for a 3rd and final time.

  4. OMG–aversion to coffee is one of my first pg signs too! And it’s so hard to imagine NOT wanting it as it’s normally the allure of coffee that gets me out of bed in the morning. Wishing you a sweet, sweet reunion!!

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