Sunday, February 20, 2011


I am an addict.  I freely admit it.  I need coffee.  No, really.  I NEED coffee.  I wake up each morning with a headache that can only be cured with caffeine.  Of course, black coffee is my caffeine of choice.  There is nothing better in this world than a fresh brewed cup of cup. It makes me so happy.  And gets rid of the headache.

I know, you are telling yourself that lots of people love coffee, so I may not be an addict.  My first clue that I am a true addict?  When I quit caffeine to get pregnant, it took about 3 weeks of headaches, blinding headaches for me to get off of coffee.  I was caffeine free for about a year and a half with my son (6 months to get pregnant, 9 months of holding the child in utero, and 3 months of breastfeeding), except 2 weeks at about the fourth month I was trying to conceive.  I knew wasn't pregnant, so I decided I could have one cup of good coffee.  The next day, I woke up with a headache.  It continued for 2 more weeks. Still not convinced that I am an addict?

After my daughter was born and I was done pumping milk for her, I decided to truly embrace my coffee since it was going to kick me in the head (that and I needed to stay awake).  I upped my caffeine consumption to new highs.  I ended up in the hospital with heart irregularities due to the increased caffeine consumption.  That scared me enough to cut back, but I could not cut out the coffee (as I've been scolded to do by many doctors).  If lovely fresh brewed coffee is unavailable, I will sink to drinking the coffee at work.  My addiction will make me covet the powered crap the hospitals provide.  In short, without coffee, I am at your whim.  You can have total control over me if you dangle a cup in front of my eyes.

Am I alone?

1 comment:

  1. You aren't alone, although it sounds like your withdrawal headaches are worse than mine. After I had my twins, trying to deal with them and a 2.5 yr old, I gave up trying to regulate caffeine intake. I had it as often as I needed, and didn't worry about how much passed to the babies. I figured a mom who couldn't stay awake was more dangerous than slightly jittery babies.


Having a child with a CHD is like being given an extra sense---the true ability to appreciate life. Each breath, each hug, each meal is a blessing when you've watched your child live off a ventilator, trapped in an ICU bed, being fed through a tube. Each minute is a miracle when you've watched your child almost die and come back to you.
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