The wino is whining for wine

I would like to have a sit-down with the women who say, "oh, when you're pregnant you don't even think about drinking or wanting wine!" because as far as I'm concerned, they are full of it.  Not to complain, (this is just like starting a sentence with "no offense, but") but this is seriously getting old.  I want my wine. 

Don't get me wrong, I thank my lucky stars every day that baby Kilham is on his way, and I couldn't be more excited and happy.  During the months (and months and months) before he came along I promised myself (and whoever else that might have a hand in this) that if I could ever get pregnant, I wouldn't complain about ANYTHING throughout the whole time I was pregnant.  I might have even gone so far as to say I would never complain ever again.  Please note this promise was broken immediately, when I wasn't able to LOOK at a kitchen sink or refrigerator without making really loud retching noises that I'm quite certain the neighbors across the pool could hear.  And now I've moved onto whining about my wine. 

Poor Willis.

If you told me I could have a glass of wine right now, I think I would run over an old lady carrying a puppy crossing the street if they got in my way.  I know that some people say that a glass of wine every now and then is fine once you reach a certain point, but (a) I'm too paranoid and (b) what's the point in having just one? 

Kimmy, can you hear me?  I'll be back soon, sweetie.  I miss you.