I stopped taking that miraculous drug that had kept me from being pregnant for the last ten years of sexual escapades. The move was made, the deed was done. The screw was out of my husband’s shoulder. We were settling in (badly) to responsible day jobs. The prenatal appointment was over and done with. Our family histories were discussed, my drinking and smoking habits were only slightly fudged, and we were given the ok to go fertilize. I was recommended to act like I was pregnant…i.e. stop drinking. In our world, this was going to be a long, very long procreation process.
With that one doctor’s visit, everything was about to change. It was the life we chose, and we needed to make this breakup real. We needed to cut the tie with our flasks. I needed to say goodbye to my miniskirts. We needed to put away the bottle of Patron, say goodbye to nicotine and hello to prenatal vitamins. We needed to make a complete overhaul of our lives…and we realized the best way to say goodbye was to get it over with quick. Cold Turkey.