How not to spend baby’s first Thanksgiving

I’m not easily embarrassed but that’s not to say that there aren’t a few moments I’m not too proud of. One of those happens to be Thanksgiving of 2009.
            I gave birth to Alison in March of that year and I hadn’t drank at all after her arrival. Thanksgiving eve is usually quite a big party night and my friends convinced me to come out with them. Dan was tired so he stayed home with Ali and I hit the town. Back in my drinking days I could handle my liquor like a pro. Even though I had an extra 40 pounds on me I decided to take it easy since it’s been over a year since my last drink. My best friend weighs about 90 pounds so I thought I’d be able to keep up with her fine. Oh was I wrong.  2 shots later I was feeling no pain. I vaguely remember high kicking someone I just met and there may have been some karate chops weaved throughout the night too. I really can’t be sure.
            Dan remembers me coming home and falling off the bed while I tried to take my shoes off. Everything was going fine until around 3 AM when I heard the sound of a hangover’s arch nemesis … the cries of a not sleeping baby. I stumbled in to comfort her when a wave of nausea hit me. Instead of comforting the baby I began comforting myself. While rocking her in the rocking chair I was whining, “I don’t want to throw up on my baby, I don’t want to throw up on my baby.” Thankfully she fell back asleep to my serenade and I was able to puke in the bathroom in peace.
            I hoped one puke was enough to get me through the next 24 hours but that was false. It was now Thanksgiving Day and I had to go to my parent’s house where my in-laws would be joining us for our first Thanksgiving as a combined family. Thankfully my parents showed mercy and let me sleep on the couch until my in-laws got there. Unfortunately that was not enough time to make the pain go away. I roused myself long enough to greet them and attempt to make them feel at home when I had to vomit again. I tried to take care of business discretely but I’m pretty sure the alcohol fumes were seeping out of my pores. The large black bags under my eyes didn’t help either. It wasn’t too long before I fell asleep sitting up on the couch again. At one point Ali fell asleep and Dan placed her with me so it looked like I was doing something.
            I was in too much pain to be embarrassed at the time but everyone was laughing at me because of how pathetic I was. Thankfully my in-laws found it funny too and didn’t think I was a bad mother (probably just a bad drinker).
            I came around just in time for dinner, which was perfect. I think we even managed to get one picture together as a family. It’s been two years but I’m sure someone will bring this story up tomorrow and I’ll rightfully get made fun of again. This story is a warning to show what can happen Thanksgiving Eve if you aren’t careful!