When considering taking the leap into pregnancy, a significant concern was being on the wagon for months and months and months. No cheeky glass of rioja and certainly no cocktails. Nightmare.
Luckily in the first trimester I just didn’t feel like it – I simply lost the taste for alcohol, so being without it wasn’t so bad. Unfortunately this aversion to the booze didn’t last into the second, and by this point I am quite looking forward to a post-birth glass of vino!
Now I can’t pretend to have been entirely teetotal, I generally have a sip of what Fred is having, just so I don’t feel entirely left wanting and because the likelihood of that tiny amount of alcohol having an impact, especially given my whale-like dimensions, seems extremely remote. And I suspect the odd unit of a week wouldn’t do the alien any harm at this stage, I just haven’t felt I needed more than a few sips so have left it there.
As a result, I have been dabbling in the exciting world of mocktails! At Jo’s hen do the other weekend, the evening activity was cocktail making, so I took up the gauntlet of making an alcoholic and non-alcoholic concoction (using the bartender trick for the alcoholic version of pushing a straw into the drink and putting your finger over the top, so you just get a small taster of your creation). I am not sure this was entirely successful – I think my tastes have changed due to pregnancy, and the drink that tasted to me entirely of grenadine was to others heavily focused on banana, and who other than a pregnancy woman would think banana in a cocktail was a good idea any way?
But I have been enjoying my forays into the world of mocktails. Petrified as I was before pregnancy of months of cranberry juice and orange juice, I have been turned by the world of mocktails finding them inventive and pretty darn tasty!
I went out with Harriet tonight to The Refinery Bar in Southwark, and experienced a rather tasty invention called the May Day which, served in a jar, was largely watermelon-based with a muddle of mint, pomegranate, lime, sugar and soda. And did I mention it was served in a jar?
Which makes me wonder whether post-pregnancy, when I manage to escape the house for an evening of fun and frivolity, I should keep an eye on the mocktail menu and intersperse the juicy reds with some fruity goodness. This seems a less crazy idea than it would have before, but perhaps once off the wagon the world of wines will prove too much of a temptation and there will be no going bac(chus).