Take your vitamins!

As soon as I mentioned to my doctor that I was thinking, thinking, about maybe-perhaps in the near future, possibly a year from now, having the conversation with my husband about trying to get pregnant, she whipped out her RX pad and wrote me a prescription for pre-natal vitamins. Which happen to be a lot less exciting than Flintstones chewables, by the way.

Really, if you want to get pregnant, she told me, you should start acting as though you're pregnant right now. Perhaps sensing my resistance she added: A glass of wine, even before you know you're pregnant, can affect fetal development.

I'm still a bit skeptical about what sounds to me like a scare tactic. After all, what child in this country hasn't been conceived on a glass or more of wine? But I took the prescription the doctor wrote for me, got it filled, and am now diligently taking my purple pill with a full glass of water each evening.

I've seen plenty of people use the impending birth of a child as impetus for self-improvement. My friend quit smoking a full week before she got pregnant and never craved a cigarette after that. Others started to eat healthier, take walks, slow down a little. Me, I like the ritual. The glass of water and the quiet minute it takes me to drink it.

The emphasis on weeding out unhealthy habits in preparation for having a child has made me think about what I'm doing (or not doing) to ensure that my creative life doesn't develop a corkscrew tail or a third eye. The myth of the self-destructive writer, alcoholic or psychotic or both, is a hard one to shake. Live it up to write it down -- it should be on a flag somewhere. Whenever I begin to get seduced by the martyr for art syndrome, my husband offers to beat me or run off with another woman so that I can have something new to write about.

How do I ensure the health of my writing life when it feels like everything in my day is trying to keep me from it? I want my poems with all their fingers and toes. I want my poems to come out screaming. Every time I write, it feels like it's the only poem I'll ever write. But there are small preparations that I can make in the meantime: read something every day, writing something every day, and take my vitamins. You never know when the next poem will present itself. Can't hurt to be prepared, right?