They say that having a child changes your life. And by golly, does it. In fact in more ways than one.
The moment I realised that I was carrying a child, my life began to change little by little, unbeknownst to me. I began being more conscious of what I was feeding myself (and her), showing more interest in fixing my meals, rather than simply delivery-dialing. Don’t get me wrong though, it’s not like I went cold turkey on my sweet desserts and fast foods;- as a matter of fact, I craved for more beef burgers than I could have ever cared to imagine, myself being a fan of white meat than red. Perhaps it was my subconscious telling me to watch my diet, or perhaps it was merely the willingness to spend time in the kitchen as opposed to being stuck on the bed, but whatever the reason was, my pregnancy had taught me two things;- to look deeper into what was going to land on my plate, and that sometimes, cooking isn’t all that time-consuming or horridly death-defying as my mind had made it out to be.


