Yes, you with those bouncy auburn curls 10 hours after giving birth to your 3.7kg glamazon baby girl. You wearing that sunny yellow dress, looking as fresh as a daisy, even though you had just pushed your watermelon of a baby out of your vajayjay. You in those chic Jimmy Choo nude heels with a bright, beautiful smile and slender muscular calves. You with that lovely post-pregnancy glow.
How the fish do you do it?
Okay, I know you probably have an army of people working hard behind the scenes to help you achieve that seemingly effortless look. You probably have a hairstylist who massaged your scalp as she shampooed your hair, blow dry and curl it to perfection.
Mmm…don’t I love a good scalp massage at the salon…complete with a little scrubbing…always makes my hair feel squeaky clean.
ANYWAY. And yes, you should have someone in your staff whose life mission is to painstakingly conceal your eye bags, highlight your cheekbones and add some glow to your face. You know, make you look exactly like a Disney Princess.
BUT STILL. 10 hours. That was all it took for you to be discharged from the hospital after delivering a human child from your woman parts. That was all it took for you to recover from all the indignities that pregnancy AND delivery can unleash on you.
10 hours after my second delivery, I was tethered to my bed with a catheter stuck up my pee outlet and hooked to machines that were humming and buzzing all day (and night) long to tell everyone that I was still alive. I was wondering how I was ever going to pee or poop again. My nose was still the size of Pulau Tekong. My face was full of angry red spots, thanks to those errant capillaries that burst as I was straining to push my 2.8kg garden gnome out.
I was certainly not looking like I had just stepped out of the tea house with my girlfriends after an afternoon of earl grey tea, jam and scones. With a present – hey! A newborn! And a baby girl, just like I had ordered from ASOS! – cradled tenderly in my arms.
Do I sound jealous? Who, me? Hell no.
Okay, maybe just a little. I mean, when I was discharged, I was strutting around in my Nike yoga pants, a nursing tank and Crocs slippers with eyebags that resemble the abyss of a Louis Vuitton Neverfull.
No, seriously though, I think you looked amazing. Although I am betting that underneath that sunny dress, you were totally rocking those mesh panties. Those things are saviours, I tell you (by the way, have you checked out my list of postpartum lifesavers? Might come in useful). And I am glad that I am not you, having to wave to thousands of strange random people and look gorgeous because the media is going to be all over you and what you were wearing. Even though all you probably really wanted to do was to go home to your comfortable bed, inhale in the scent of your new baby girl and cuddle your cutie potootie of a son, whom you missed like crazy (even though you were away for all of 10 hours) and whose transition from an only child to a big brother you might have felt anxious about.
So enjoy these moments. Revel in the quiet joy of completing your family. Slip your hand into your balding prince’s and tell him how you can’t believe that the two of you had made those two littles. Look at your two gorgeous babies and think to yourself, I couldn’t be any happier.
Enjoy those moments.