I don't remember when I found out that the new guy I liked/was dating didn't drink.  It's quite possible that it came up in one of our early IM conversations or on our first date but I truly don't recall.  This shows you  how much I love him because I'm sure it was a moment of, "Oh, well, this won't work then but he's sweet, so we'll just see where it goes for now."

It's not like I am or ever was an alcoholic, but I enjoy my frosty beverages (or in the case of the pints of Guinness I had in Ireland, my beautiful room temperature beverages).  Someone who didn't drink by choice was definitely a deal-breaker to me in my 20s.  Passes were given to recovering alcoholics; I certainly wasn't about to fault them for foregoing the bubbly at New Years.  But someone who chose not to drink for no reason other than, "I don't want to" ... ???  Completely foreign and distrusted concept to me.

You see, my best friend is Mike.

Kate's Converse, Mike's dress shoe, and my reception Converse at my wedding reception

Like, very very best friend.  So best that he was my "man of honor" at my wedding. 

But Mike is what I call the human tonic.  Not only is Mike an enthusiastic drinker, but he somehow has the magical ability, as if he is tonic, to allow you to drink more in his presence.  I kid you not.  Let's say my normal drink tolerance before I start to feel tipsy is three beverages.  If Mike is there, it easily becomes five or six - and then it'll be another three or four before I actually feel drunk.  I don't know how this works, but I swear to all that exists that it's true.

And it's not that Mike is your keg stand, beer funnel type of drinker (although I do recall a funnel in his dorm room, but that was for other people to enjoy).  Mike doesn't even actually enjoy beer that much; he's strictly a Jack Daniels man, with the occasional foray into good wines and exceptional cocktails like a fantastic bloody mary (he makes a great one).  Because of Mike, I have what can be best described as near-romantic feelings for Jack Daniels.  Just writing that, I can smell it so strongly it's like I have a glass right next to me.  It's real love.

But then along came the hubby and his "I don't drink" stance.  He doesn't like alcohol and it never gets him tipsy, nevermind drunk.  It's like he's impervious.  That kind of existence was beyond my comprehension and, for a while, beyond what I was willing to join myself to.  I dreaded telling Mike that my new boyfriend didn't drink just "because he doesn't want to."  I knew Mike's response: "That won't work, so long to him."

But somehow, we both (Mike and I) came around.  The tipping point occurred when I realized that this meant I had a guaranteed designated driver for life.  See, I'm a terrible, terrible designated driver.  I have a really hard time not drinking when others are imbibing - to the point that I'd rather just not go to whatever function it is than go and abstain.  But now, linked to the hubby, it was no longer a problem, ever!  (Even my parents have put his permanent designated driver status to use after family gatherings.)  Mike has made a quiet peace with it as well, although that doesn't mean he hasn't stopped trying to get the hubby to do car bombs or some shots of JD.  What happens then is that since the hubby won't do them and I'm his spouse, they default to me.  (Don't you love Mike's rules?)  So I end up with extra drinks, which I don't mind.  I know when to stop, anyway.  And I can slam a car bomb with the best of the boys.

And there have been compromises.  Apparently there was quite a bit of drinking at the hubby's bachelor party (I swear he came home a bit tipsy but he says no even though he drank a ridiculous amount of liquor) - and he sipped from the champagne for the toasts at our wedding - the only time I've specifically asked him to do such a thing and the only time I can think of that I ever will.

And, now?  Now I find myself in his boat since The Force is clearly not of drinking age.  I know people who have enjoyed the occasional glass of wine during their pregnancies, but I just can't do it, even though sometimes my mind is screaming for it.  Going out to our favorite restaurant (P.F. Chang's) has become torturous as I stare longingly at the drink menu, wanting a pear mojito like a junkie needs a fix.  When people ask me how the pregnancy is going and we have more than a 30 second conversation about it, I tend to say that the hardest thing is not having the occasional alcoholic beverage.  It's been nearly six months since my last drink - most definitely the longest I've gone without one since I turned nineteen or twenty.

Not that the peace of mind isn't worth it.  It definitely is, for me.  I'm a worrier and if The Force comes out with simply a hair out of place, I'm going to feel like it's my fault - that I did something during this pregnancy that affected him negatively.  And now, it's been remarkably helpful that the hubby is a teetotaler.  I've read too many posts about pregnant women having to watch their partners enjoy alcoholic beverages in their presence.  I'm not sure how well I would have handled that.  It's not that I need the alcohol, but it's kind of like a diet - simply because I can't have it, it makes it seem just all that much more tempting and lovely.

So as much as it's driving me bonkers, no wine and certainly no other alcoholic beverages until The Force sees the light of day.  I already told the hubby that our first post-baby dinner out will be to P.F. Chang's so I can have one of those pear mojitos.  Our first trip out of town will be to Baltimore, where Mike lives, so we can go to our favorite bar there and I can have the best espresso martini I have ever found.

Because after ten months of clean living, what could be better than coffee AND vodka?

This post is a part of Genie Alisa's Living Out Loud (LOL) series.