I don't know what it is, but I can't stop thinking about red wine. And every time I walk past people smoking outside a bar I inhale deeply and with fervor.
Sorry baby, at least my indulgences are secondary, right?
I mean, sniffing an open bottle of Two Buck Chuck and some Marb Reds I found in an open trash can is probably better than actual ingestion...
On a different note:
I was under the impression that pregnancy meant luminescence and serenity,
a belly that was delightfully swollen...
not in my case.