Crusher is a teetotaller.

Cautioned by the growing body of medical research on the effects of alcohol on fetal development, and the continuing uncertainty about how much alcohol it takes to produce negative effects, I abstained entirely from the Demon Rum during my first trimester. But at 13 weeks, we were enjoying a wonderful Chinese New Year celebration with friends, and I decided to usher in the second tri with a half-glass of wine.

It tasted delicious, as did the hot-pot. But later that night, I experienced my very first puke of the pregnancy.

I chalked it up to excessive protein consumption, since my gestational diet has consisted mostly of carbs, cheese, and avocadoes. The following week, after many hours of riding in the backseat of a small car en route to Northern Wisconsin, I puked again, though rather less intensely.

Last night, when Sasha and I met up after work, I was very much looking forward to a little vino. I asked the bartender for something smooth and not-too-full-bodied, and he complied with a delicious red, the provenance of which I didn't quite catch. The wine was soothing and delicious, and it felt wonderful to sit and chat and sip. When we moved on to dinner, I made a point of not overeating, and kept the protein consumption to a minimum.

To no avail. I barely made it home in time to vomit violently and copiously.

I'm not a big drinker even when I'm not growing a person, so it may be that my already low alcohol tolerance has dwindled to zero over the past fifteen weeks. But I'm thinking that Crusher is sending a message - lay off the sauce, mommy.