When I was pregnant, people generally didn't realise I was pregnant until I was in my third trimester.
Turns out that I gained a whopping 16 kgs and still, people said I didn't look so pregnant.
So after I gave birth, I expected to look like... status quo. Only I didn't. Just recently though, I managed to wiggle myself into my kurung moden anak dara, after going through almost 18 months stressing over my now post-partum figure.
Itu sebenarnya sekadar mukadimah.
On Saturday morning, circa 2.00 a.m., Luqman suddenly developed a fever. And without even taking his temperature, I knew it was high and that it was bugging him. Big time.
After a dose of Panadol Suspension, we spent the night sponging him and as daylight sneaked through our windows, it looked like he was getting better.
Only he didn't. By lunch time, his temperature spiked again. He was due for another round of Suspension but somehow, my gut told me that it wouldn't work. So I told my husband, ke Annur lah kita.
Shocking, right? For someone who normally searches for alternatives before getting help from healthcare providers, I was pretty amazed with my decision as well.
Turns out that his temperature was 38.5 and after some coaxing from the kind doctor, I agreed to suppository meds being administered on my son, as long as I wasn't the one who had to do it.
His temperature went down almost immediately. He started to sweat profusely, for which I was ever so grateful for, and we spent the whole weekend making sure he would be well again, come Monday.
3 a.m. this morning, that much dreaded high temperature was back to haunt me. You see, I'm the type who's a bit reluctant to take leave, especially on Mondays or Fridays.
Not so much because I don't have enough leave days left (in fact I have 30 days left) but simply because of the stigma most people have about working mothers using their children as an excuse to escape work and for any lack of efficiency, if any.
But this time, this time is just different. While I previously had a steel backbone (Luqman's previous babysitter) as my support system, the Taska, as I've mentioned before is just a whole new thing not just for Luqman, but for me as well.
I just didn't have the heart to leave him, especially not when he's in so much pain and so overwhelmed with all the change that's taking place in his life.
So here I am on emergency leave. Trying to figure out how to help alleviate my baby's backside problem (he screams whenever he does his business. no bukan sembelit, dia cirit). I don't remember feeling this much pain when I cut my first molar, but I guess it hurts THAT bad and all I can do is pray and hope that all the pain will go away. Fast.
All in all, what I really wanted to say is that, no matter how big a mother's butt gets post-partum, it will never beat the size of her gut.
Though I'm actually worried about work, I am really more relieved that my son is in good hands- and that they are my own.