Indian butter chicken 12wbt style….O.M.Ghee!

If you are anything like me, after having a baby the kitchen tends to be the central point of the entire house. I would like to bullshit you into thinking that it is for the purpose of cooking and creating wonderful healthy treats for the family. It’s not. It’s soul purpose is to make bottles, wash bottles, sterilise bottles, wash, rinse, repeat.

The second most popular reason for me to use the kitchen was to discard the take away food packaging as this was pretty much what I was surviving on for the first few months. Husband was a typical enabler and he could get away with it. He lost so much weight when he had cancer that it was his primary mission in life to pack some back on just in case he had to have chemotherapy. We did not want him to start chemo while he was so underweight. If he had of gotten too sick to eat, which is pretty much a given so I am told, he would have had nothing in reserve and it would have ended up with more hospital stays which neither of us wanted.

Luckily, no chemo, the weight came back on and then some! Now I am back in the kitchen but this time it is for all the right reasons. I am glad that the kitchen is a place I feel relatively comfortable in but I can understand how some first time 12wbt’ers and kitchen virgins might break out in a cold sweat when they realise how much cooking is involved in the program.

Fear not friends, it really is quite simple as long as you follow the recipe, stay calm and have some patience. And if you mess up a recipe, have some ore frozen meals in the freezer so you don’t have to go for the dominos menu. Trust me, we all will mess up on occasion , it’s a right of passage.

There are a few kitchen staples I can’t live without these days. My stone wear pans are amazing…..the tv shopping ads are totally on the money, you don’t need to use oil if you don’t want to, nothing sticks and they never let you down…..ever! Don’t be fooled into paying big dollars for the stonedine brand either. They are obscenely expensive and no better than the stone pans you can buy at big w.

Get a slow cooker. Now! Immediately go out and buy one if you don’t already have one. They are awesome, especially in winter. Warm stews and curry that fill the house with heir awesome deliciousness are a must at this time of year. Mine is a cheapy from k-mart. I think I paid $25 for it. It has never let me down and I have out it to work for three years now. You would be amazing how many healthy casseroles you can whip up in those baby’s!

Obviously kitchen scales are a must for measuring portions. Do yourself a favour and get digital ones. It Is just the lazy side of me coming out I guess but they are so much easier. And my new love is my mandolin silver that I bought from big w for $10. It makes short work of slicing, especially julienne and getting even slices which is something I suck at. Just pay attention when slicing, get too low down and off comes the tip of your finger….ouchie, speaking from personal experience.

Tonight I made I can’t believe it’s not butter chicken from the 12wbt recipes. I love this one, it tastes authentic enough and it doesn’t make me feel queasy from all the butter like the original version. Here are my tips for success with this recipe….

Be patient, no good can come of rushing Indian food. It needs time for the flavours to cook into the meat. When the recipe says five minutes for the onion, really give it five minutes and at least 25 minutes to simmer all together. Your taste buds will thank you.

Tip number 2: if you have some calories to spare, try using a small amount of ghee to sautéed your onion instead of oil. Ghee is an Indian food staple ingredient and is clarified butter. Basically butter that has all of the milk solids refined out. It is usually well tolerated by lactose intolerant people, myself included and adds a nice, rich authentic flavour. Make sure you count the calories though! It is used a lot in paleo cooking so I felt totally righteous when using it tonight 😉

Tip number 3: if you are lactose intolerant, use Paul’s Zymill lactose free light cream. Tastes amazingly creamy and won’t upset your tummy.

Seriously consider trying this recipe if you haven’t yet, it is so comforting and yummy in the cooler weather. If you have extra calories to spare or are making a larger serve for someone, pure basmati rice is a great partner to this curry, as pictured.




Call me crazy….12wbt here I come.

So I blog a lot about the things that randomly pass through my sieve like brain but I tend not to let on too much with personal information. It’s not that I am afraid of someone stealing my identity or anything. Actually some days I would gladly accept an identity swap as long as the person I swapped with was getting about 12 hours of sleep a night. It is more just because I don’t think I am really that interesting.

Buuuut…for the purpose of this blog I am going to have to disclose a bit of info. My husband and I own our own business. We work together every day in our jewellery manufacturing business. Things are pretty hectic at our shop as there aren’t too many actual qualified jewellers out there anymore , the ones of us that are left are far outnumbered by the huge influx of “supermarket jewellery stores” by a ratio of about a million to one and he also happens to be damn good at what he does.

We love our shop but I am a grass is greener kind of gal and I am always in need of something big to plan for and organise. After husband got sick last year and after I had the baby the only “big” thing I could plan for was brushing my teeth every day…if I was lucky. Even though it did get kind of scary for a while there, we bounced back and before long it was business as usual and what do you know, I got bored and wanted something to plan for once again.

We decided to open a second store, this one a little bit different. A beautiful little retail boutique in the picturesque town of Daylesford. All of a sudden I was thrust back into list writing, organising heaven. Let me tell you opening a business is ALOT of work even without already having a business to run and two small children demanding most of your attention. It is coming along nicely and with about another month of sleepless nights we should be ready to open.

The new store is about an hours drive from home so I will commuting every day which brought about a roadblock….we only had one car. I conquered that problem, I bought a new car. A little zippy Ford Fiesta just for me. It is small, efficient and quick and most of all insanely easy to park.

Roadblock number two reared its ugly head the other day. I realised that my wardrobe might need a revamp as I have been living in two year old yoga pants and underwear with no elastic left in them. Then I realised I had out a lot of weight back on with the last baby. And I mean a lot! I am now exactly 30 kilos heavier than when I first met my husband. Can you say Mortified?

I absolutely refuse to buy size 18 clothes. I just won’t do it, for me it feels like admitting defeat and telling myself it is ok to have let things go so far. So I took action and signed up for the June round of Michelle bridges 12wbt.

It will be a challenge and the whole organise and diarise thing is going to apply to me big time with the baby and soon to be school goer as well as the businesses. I am going to do this round gluten free and avoid other grains as much as is practical. I guess I am slightly paleofying it a bit.

No, I am not a super mum to juggle so many things, I am just a glutton for punishment hahaha. Truth is any body with children knows what it is like to have to juggle work and home and kids and it leaves very little time for oneself . I had good results with 12wbt in the past and the food was Delish! But I also loved the forums and community feel. It is so nice to have other adults to talk to about things other than baby poo and work.

All this week I am making 12wbt recipes for dinner but I am doubling the serves and freezing the left overs. This way I hope to build up a little stockpile of frozen meals for those days when I am utterly exhausted of which I predict there will be many.

Last night was my fave , chicken laksa. I always save a few calories up so I can add vermicelli that way it is nice and filling. I also refused to pay Safeway $4 for a wilted tiny bunch of broccolini so I used normal broccoli which was just as good if not better. Also, added red chilli flakes for a bit of extra bite. YUM!



Disney can wait.

What a week! Seriously, there were more ups and downs than a Disneyland worthy roller coaster. Disneyland you say? Funny I should mention the most wonderful place on the earth because that is the very thing that started this exhausting, exhilarating and exciting weekend.

I will start at the beginning for you. Try to stay with me now because I, myself, have only just begun to wrap my head around what has happened.

Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday went by without a hitch. Apart from feeling more fatigued than usual , the days went by in the shop as they usually do. Sure, it was a bit busier than normal and I spent most of the day talking to customers. I thought this was the reason why I felt tired. The customers seemed to be draining me, which sometimes happens when you get inundated.

Thursday was worse again, I just wanted so badly to crawl up on the couch out the ack of work and snooze but the customers had other ideas. That night I called my Mum and to cut a long story short, she was going to take me and my daughter , soon turning four, with the family on a 21 day trip to the USA incorporating Vegas, Hawaii and of course the holy grail of the USA trip, Disneyland.

Picture a grown woman running up and down her hallway, jumping and shrieking with excitement . Now stop shaking your heads, I defy you not to do the same if the same opportunity arose for you to go on this awesome trip! I hardly slept that night. After talking trip details with Mum until the early hours of the morning, once I finally did get into bed, my thoughts were overrun with luggage styles and passport renewals. I was going to America and it was so close I could almost taste the baby back ribs and pork breakfast sausage from IHOP.

The next morning, Friday, was no better, I ran around the house like a kid on Christmas morning. My husband knew that I was going to exhaust myself by the time October came around but he did not rain on my Disney parade.

I was determined that Friday was going to be a great day at work. I was going to use all of my excess excitement to make it a great day, come hell or high water. Sadly it wasn’t to be. I was tired and cranky. The customers were really taking it out of me and I just wanted to curl up and sleep. Not even thoughts of Mickey Mouse and boysenberry syrup could keep me going. It was no use.

Somewhere around 4:30pm, I was finally experiencing a lull in the flow of customers so I sat down at my computer to do some stock inventory. I felt sick. Not like a flu or gastro, just really off. I figured that seeing as my boobs were sore and I was tired and cranky that I must be getting ready for my period. Yup that had to be it, after all it had been how long since my last one?

Oh shit, November. I missed a month. Usually, with PCOS, this would be no big deal, but since losing some weight doing the 12wbt and then adjusting the Michelle bridges nutrition to a paleo diet, I had been as regular as clockwork.

My mind started ticking, surely this was a hormonal thing. I mean, it took me seven years to conceive my first child and it had been four years since she was born and it did not seem like it was ever going to happen again. Never the less, I went to the supermarket and bought a pregnancy test. Actually I bought four. All different brands. I figured I better be damn sure before Mum went and booked $4600 worth of plane tickets for my daughter and I .

I got home from work and raced straight upstairs. I lined my tests up all in a row and wouldn’t you know it, all of them came up positive. Straight up, immediate, strong positive.

Holy shit! I’m having a baby!!!!

I stared at those sticks for what felt like hours but in actuality was only a minute or two and then called mum. I told her that I couldn’t come to Disneyland with her because right about the time they are having their photos taken with Mickey , I am going to be giving birth.

I guess it is just the rebel in me, to defy medicine not once but twice! Obviously losing what seemed to me to be such an insignificant amount of weight made a huge difference in my body. It may have only been seven kilos but I can only attribute my pregnancy to these few things,

* losing weight, even a small amount.
* quitting smoking
* going organic and cutting out all processed and refined foods
* regular exercise even if at just a moderate pace

So, by my calculations I am between six and eight weeks cooked already. I feel this blog may be heading in a new direction for the next few months at least. But never fear. I do solemnly swear to you, dear readers, never to blog about constipation or haemorrhoids, pelvic exams or frequent urination.

It looks like Disney will have to wait because I’m back on the road to the dreaded maternity ward. Wish me luck, I think I’m gonna need it.


This is me about five minutes before my first c-section. I believe at that stage I had changed my mind and expressed a strong desire to go back home to bed.


This is me two days before my c-section. It was hot, I was uncomfortable and my baby was the size of a small elephant, I think this adequately explains the look on my face

The Irony Is Killing Me !

Oh irony, sweet irony. And I mean real, honest to god irony too. Not the non- irony of the Alanis Morissette song of a similar name where everything she claims as being ironic is actually just really, really unfortunate. Nope, I am living in a new dimension where there is irony at every turn, waiting there to point and laugh.

There may also be a little bit karma thrown into the mix just to add some variety but I will save my diatribe on karma for another day, another blog. But before I digress any further, allow me to explain my opening paragraph to you in some further detail.

My 12wbt days are officially over. No, my second round of twelve weeks has not quite come to a close but I have officially thrown in the towel. Don’t panic dear readers. I promise that I am not typing this blog whilst waiting in line at the nearest buffet or cramming a burger down my throat. I actually have what I believe to be a legitimate reason to throw in this particular towel in favour of something else.

Some of you may recall back in my early 12 week body transformation days that I spent a fair amount of time at the doctors, having blood drained and examined and all manner of other tests in an attempt to get an idea of my current health situation. Well , all that poking and prodding resulted in a lengthy diagnosis:

Fibromyalgia ( to explain the chronic pain and fatigue)
Costalchondritis ( spelling ? To explain the persistent chest pains)
Poly cystic ovarian syndrome ( to explain numerous other symptoms)

I returned home, relieved to finally know what was wrong with me and went along my Michelle bridges 12wbt way. I followed her program to the letter. For the first six weeks, I was stoked. I was losing weight. Slowly but surely. I had been told that it would be incredibly slow going due to the poly cystic ovaries but I persisted. 6 kilos in 6 weeks.

Then I hit a wall. I followed the program still, no more weight would come off. I exercised 2 hours a day instead of 1. The numbers would not budge. I tried more calories, less calories, nothing was working? One week, I exercised for three hours straight on the cross trainer, five days in a row. Nothing, nada, zilch .

The chest pains started to intensify, which was concerning to say the least. The chronic fatigue hit an all new level. It got to the stage that after a meal I would drag myself to the couch at the back of the shop and pass out for three hours. During the time I was so very lethargic that I could not even lift my entire body felt like it was made of lead.

I spent my Christmas holiday feeling like garbage, it was hard to enjoy the beach when roughly six hours of every day was taken up with recovery after meals. Once I returned home, I was to have some time to myself with my husband taking our daughter to see his parents for a few days. During this time I spent quite a lot of time reading and researching why I might be feeling this way. I felt that there had to be something more to it. There had to be a way for me to lose weight and not feel like absolute shit all of the time!

I stumbled across a website for people with food intolerances and started reading the stories of all these different people suffering exactly the same symptoms as I was. After three days of heavy reading I had a theory. Gluten intolerance could have been responsible for my fatigue but dairy intolerance or more specifically, casein allergy seemed to be causing my chest pains.

I decided to conduct a little experiment . For a week, I ate no gluten or dairy at all. Within 24 hours my energy levels felt restored, I felt like a new person. For the first time in 2 years, I had no pain in my body at all…anywhere!!!! It was the best week I have had in a very long time and to finish it off with a bang, my Sunday weigh in showed a loss of 2.7 kilos, in one week. That was previously unheard of for me.

Then I had a glass of milk. Skim milk. The chest pains came back, before I could even finish. I had heart palpitations and felt very anxious and jittery. It was horrible and scary and I had to wait a full 24 hours before it fully passed. Ok, I knew then that dairy was out.

Once the chest pains had passed, I ate bread. I had a breakfast containing much gluten. Immediately I was bloated. Like six month pregnant bloated. The fatigue came soon after and I spent the majority of the early afternoon in bed. Gluten was out too. No question.

So seeing as gluten was on the banned substance list in my house now, I stocked up on rice products. I had learned that rice was somewhat of a staple for gluten intolerant individuals such as myself. The only problem was that the rice was making me feel kind of sluggish too. Not in the same way as wheat but I knew that when I had say steak and salad, I felt much better compared to when I ate chicken breast, rice and salad.

Back to the Internet. What I found led me to the diet that I am now an avid follower of. And drum roll please……introducing….irony…..

The paleo diet. Yup, you heard me, the sticks and leaves diet that I spent so much time poking fun at in my earlier blogs is now pretty much the only thing I can follow and not feel like crap!!!!

I eat paleo, I feel great, I have no pain, I have energy and I lose weight. I eat as much as I want until I am satisfied and I exercise when I feel like it. I don’t count calories. I don’t count calories burned. I just stick to the foods on the list in whatever combination I choose and it works.

My skin is clearer than it has been in ages. My brain is no longer foggy and forgetful . I have avoided illness when everyone around me has been ill. I am converted. I am not a fanatic….I still reserve the right to poke fun on occasion. I will not disown anyone I know for consuming gluten or dairy. But I cannot gloss over the positive effects of this way of life. It is not a diet. It is a way of life. It has to be because there is no way I am ever going back to feeling the way I felt every day before I got on the sticks and leaves boat.

So fibromyalgia turned out to be gluten intolerance, costalchondritis is in actual fact casein allergy and PCOS is still PCOS but the symptoms are improving every day. Sorry Michelle bridges , I gave it a good go but your menu is a food intolerance nightmare.

Wish me luck people, I am hoping this year brings good results. I am off to have a twig salad for lunch 😉

Apocalypse Now.

The end of days is approaching and as the boxes of Christmas chocolate pile up on my desk I find myself asking, Has everyone I know lost their damn minds?

I have been pretty vocal about this whole weight loss thing. Blogging, forums, public declarations and such have been made yet for some reason completely unbeknown-st to me, I am still amassing quite a collection of confectionery here at my work station.

Seriously every present I have been given this week has been chocolate. Not just like a small box either. I currently have my laptop sitting atop a 1.3 kilo box of Whitmans samplers.

Is this sabotage? Some weird variation of a biggest loser temptation challenge? Seriously…not to sound ungrateful or anything but….NOT COOL PEOPLE!!!!!

Apart from pasta, chocolate has got to be my only other vice. And I was doing quite well dealing with that until now. Now my brain has gone into super-ultra-justification mode, coming up with any reason to tear open the boxes an start inducing some kind of diabetic coma. I am literally at risk of an actual “death by chocolate” here.

So I am wondering if these chocolates may actually save my life? After all the end is nigh, apocalypse is on the horizon and all that jazz. I wonder if I should keep all of this chocolate as I may need the quick energy fix to out run all of the zombies that are apparently coming to eat our brains. It may not be such a problem in this neck of the woods though. Where I am currently situated, there seems to be a shortage of the zombies preferred food choice. They may choose to rise up and nibble nobby’s noggin elsewhere.

I also have a bone to pick with the mayans for the fact that the world is supposed to end exactley 1 day before I go on holidays. I just dont think it is too much to ask that after all the shit I have endured this year I could be on the beach when all hell literally broke loose.

Well, back to work and the sweet smell of sugar emanating from my desk. I swear if I see another person walk through this door with a large rectangular box covered in pretty paper and a ribbon, I am going to start this damn Apocalypse myself!

The red flag and the bull.

Beware the dreaded Red Flag Days or RFD’s as I like to call them. Michelle talks about these early on in the 12wbt. Days that we should mark out in our diaries and calendars due to risk of massive blow out. Parties, dinners, weddings, travelling, you get the gist. These are days that we have to plan extra hard for to make sure we stay on track and not give in to the age-old excuse of ” I forgot to pack snacks for my trip so now I will have to eat burgers and fries for the next 3 days”.

There is a distinct difference this round compared to last round and it is 100% seasonal. Last round I had virtually no RFD’s. It was the first 12 week stretch for the entire year where I had no birthday parties, weddings, dinner dates or travel plans. There is also the phenomenon known as the surprise RFD. The ones that hit you like a sledge-hammer. These include unexpected illness, visitors and the like but I’m afraid it is the flexing of the will power muscle that will keep you out of trouble with those ones.

This round has been hellishly hard to stay on track so far. Forget marking the RFD’s in my diary, I am just going to colour my whole diary red, in permanent marker, front and back cover included. I feel like the red flag is being constantly waved in my face and by the time Christmas day comes around, I feel that I am going to be a very angry bull!

Work hours are insane, as business owners and manufacturing jewellers we CANNOT drop the ball. The rings and pendants that people have booked in and paid for months ago absolutely have to be made in time for Christmas. NO EXCEPTION.

Christmas parties are booking in fast, dinner with this person, drinks with that person. Then there are just the usual summer barbeques, the non-christmas related ones. We have new years, Australia Day and several birthdays in the new year.

The biggest red flag is the travel. We will be travelling over Christmas and staying in an apartment overlooking the sea ( bliss). I have planned a menu, shopping list and packed workout dvd’s. I am actually really looking forward to early morning jogging along the beach. The many cafe’s and restaurants will have to play their siren song for someone else this year.

So I have been staying on track. Literally hanging in there by the skin of my teeth but still on track. When I start to feel like I am getting snowed under and that things are getting “too hard” I take some time to remind myself of my accomplishments this year so far. I have already lost 6 kilos. Not a massive amount you might say, but an accomplishment for me in the face of many hormonal red flags. I have quit smoking and never felt better. The sheer relief alone is amazing. Not having to worry about electively giving myself cancer is a wonderful thing. Our household has become mostly chemical free and our eating is energy producing instead of energy depleting. Every weekend, we wake up and discuss what we will do whether it be to hike this trail or walk this one. We are so much more active than 3 months ago and it feels great. It feels healthy.

Those of you struggling with similar red flag issues, fear not. You are not alone. As a round 3 returnee I can say that this round is has got to be possibly the hardest round of the whole year.Take time to think about all of the positive changes you have made already. Hang in there, stay strong and laugh in the face of that matador and his silly red rag. When it comes to bull fighting I am always on the side of the bull anyways.

The truth of the matter.

I have a few common sayings that I throw around in my daily conversation a lot. Maybe a little too much. One of them is “to be honest” as if it needs to be clarified when I am being honest or when I am stretching the truth a little. Another favourite is “at the end of the day”. This one is on the verge of over-use and should be retired. But the one that gets thrown around most often is “the truth of the matter is…” I figured that seeing as I say it so damn often, I should actually own the saying for once and tell you once and for all….

At the end of the day, to be honest, the truth of the matter is………this 12wbt means a little bit more to me than I may have led you all to believe. Even more so than the first round that I did ( round 3 2012). It is confession time people. In the spirit of Michelle’s ” say it out loud” mindset task I am going to write about why this next 12 weeks means so much to me. At this stage there is a high likelihood that I will chicken out and relegate this post to the draft folder, never to see the light of your computer screens.

I am 31 and as a side effect of entering my thirties I am experiencing a rather bothersome symptom. It is the very loud and very ominous sound of my biological clock ticking. Now I know that a lot of you might think me crazy to be concerned about this is my very early thirties. Two of my best friends were in their late thirties to early forties when they had their children and even my mother was in her late thirties when she had my younger siblings. That is all fine and well for some but I seem to be reproductively challenged.

If you are familiar with my blogs you will know that I am part of a very special group of people with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. Apart from the joyous symptoms including enough facial hair to participate in Mo-vember, weight gain and thinning of head hair, early miscarriage is another common problem. One that I have become familiar with.

I have a daughter. She is 3. She is my life and I love her desperately. It took me about 7 years to conceive her and after about 8 threatened miscarriages, quite a few hospital visits and a thoroughly entertaining c-section she was born. From the moment she entered the world, my brain went into overload. I had no idea that we as human beings could be capable of loving someone so much. I literally felt that my heart would burst. I remember calling my mother 3 days or so after her birth. I was in quite a state because at that moment it dawned on me that at some point in her life, something or someone was going to hurt her. She might fall, she might get sick, she might have her heart-broken and I was not going to be able to stop it. I was beside myself at the thought and I had to ask my mother the question that all new mothers inevitably ask….

How the hell am I going to be able to protect her from the world? And then the second most common question…When do we stop worrying so much? I needed to know, I felt my brain would spontaneously combust at the thoughts of all the bad things that could happen. If there are any expectant mothers reading this, spoiler alert……The answers were in no way comforting. You cant and You never stop worrying.

As I settled in to those first few months of motherhood in a zombie-esque fashion, I doubted that I would be capable of managing another child. I felt that the love for my daughter was so strong and all-consuming that it may not be possible for me to love a second child as much. Now three and a half years have passed and my daughter is going off to kinder next year. I can finally sit back and recall with strong mental clarity, all of the experiences we had during those first few months. Now that I have finally emerged from that fog of first time motherhood I am able to actually laugh at the things we did.

Like the time that my child had a nappy leakage event with a clean-up operation that rivaled that of the Chernobyl disaster. I recall discovering my child in a strange olive-green jumpsuit that I was certain was originally white. What disturbed me more was the fact that the strange colour change had taken place from neck to knees. Did I run for some paper towel? No. A wash cloth? Nope. Run a bath? No way.

I ran for the phone and called my mum, 4 hours away. Not to ask for help but just because I simply had to tell another person who would appreciate the massive clean-up I was about to undertake. Only another mother could take a phone call like that. I also recall how my sometimes difficult child would only take her bottle whilst hanging upside down from her fathers knees or the time that we literally walked up and down the hallway all night long, tagging in and out like a very long and boring wrestling match.

I think about all of things now and I laugh. And then when I finish laughing, I get sad. Because I want that again. I want another baby.

I think I will be able to audibly hear the gasps and questioning of my sanity from my family even from 400 kilometres away. This admission might come as a surprise. The reason being is that I have had failed attempts over the last few years. Miscarriage at 2 weeks, 3 weeks, 4 weeks. I don’t care how many weeks. It hurts. And I absolutely cannot help but to feel like maybe it was something that I had done wrong. Like if I wasnt so overweight, maybe I would have been able to carry to term.

I would shrug it off. Make out like it wasnt a big deal and that I was expecting it to happen. But man, oh, man. That feeling when the cramping starts is like the ground just falls out from underneath you. Then when you see the blood, you know it’s all over before it even really had a chance to begin. Then you wonder what might have been. If only….You can lie to your friends and your family about how you are fine. You knew it was a high possibility blah,blah, blah, There was still a part of you eyeing the baby clothes at Target. You still couldn’t help looking into the spare room and mentally calculating where the crib would go.

I have spent so long pretending that I did not want another baby. I figured if I faked it long enough eventually the longing would pass. But it didn’t. And life is too short to live a lie. So there it is. This is what the 12wbt means to me. My doctor says that if I can lose 10 kilos, I will find it easier to conceive and have a higher chance of carrying to term. And I have figured out the dilemma about having enough room in my heart for two. It is not that you have to share the love over two children. Quite simply, your heart just gets bigger. The love for your child is infinite and unconditional. Even if she is laying next to me in bed right now asleep and tearing shreds off my legs with her Freddy Kruger style toenails, something she inherited from her father of course.