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My Tw|t Garden
Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Then I realized that being pregnant really tires one out to such great extent.




I'm amazed at how much more I can do even at near-zero fuel level within my body; after Isabelle popped out to say hello.




I wonder why I'm (or Chris is) getting scolding every time we were out on errands/ sending-fetching kids from school/ buying groceries.




These aunties know no better.




If we had enough help, do you think we'd want to take a 7-day old infant out to run errands all the time?




Don't you think I'd like a rest on my cosy bed and maintain a proper confinement like the more privileged women in this country?




Point is, use your brain before you speak, aunties - before you even start pointing fingers at us about not doing confinement properly.




No manners.




Anyway, if I'd maintained a proper confinement regime, I'd most likely still have a tummy bulge that of a six month preggie, back ache (more likely due to prolonged resting on bed rather than the labour or epidural for that matter), sore perineum (try walking more, ladies) and a sloppy, auntish look that would most likely score a zero in the sexiness faculty.




Why would you girls wanna look and feel that way when you can quickly recover from giving birth within a week?




True, I still have some weight to lose before I could call myself perfect...




But at least the tummy's gone.




My vagina is good as new.




And I feel (and look) good enough to present myself in front of my spouse without a tinge of sloppiness.




You need good blood circulation to recuperate - and moving your butt around enables that.




Next time, if another old auntie asks how many months my Belle is, I'd ask her to look at me and guess how many months after delivery do I appear to be.




Nosy Parkers!