I think pregnancy broke me…

So I’ve noticed some things since I was pregnant, whilst they’re nothing fatal I’m slightly concerned that they might be with me as a lasting reminder of my pregnancy for life.

Now I’m not talking stretch marks (on my boobs…WTF…ok they’ve gone now but still I was shocked)…or the everlasting damage I did to the ligaments in my knees (and hips but don’t ever tell my yoga teacher, she taught me to get up properly so it’s my own fault).

I’m talking taste…

Before I was pregnant I adored cheese, wine and pate, and taramasalata.

During pregnancy I avoided cheese and pate (and wine of course) but guzzled taramasalata (which is allowed and apparently high in vitamin D, I ate it at my desk…with boiled eggs…that’s possibly a bit antisocial with hindsight…)  I looked forward to getting the baby out purely for the opportunity to gorge myself on Brie, Gorgonzola and Stilton.  Having a baby was a bit of a shock so I didn’t actually get round to buying any of the delights I had been dreaming of, but never fear at Christmas my parents had stocked up (we’re not a family that is ever ‘over-cheesed’).  I was looking forward to my boozy Christmas too, but I had a shock, I didn’t want it.  The thought of blocks of cheese made me feel quite unwell, bleugh it’s basically solidified fat, no?!  The same for pate…

…ok so the wine hasn’t been quite such a horror to return to, but I am even more of a lightweight than I was before, and I am not that bothered about getting totally legless any more (note to self: that’s a good thing).

As for taramasalata (I hear you asking…) well whilst I ate my body weight of this during pregnancy, I can’t stomach the sight of it any more.

…I think I may be broken…perhaps if I have another baby my original tastes will come back…?

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