I have been warned that my stomach will not deflate even with its huge inhabitant out of the way. But it is one thing for me to live in denial about the size of my tummy, it is another to have someone blatantly point it out to me.
Thank goodness, then, for the Malay massage lady, who came to my house armed with a bottle of essential oils and a deadly pair of thumbs to give me a rubdown that would "realign the organs", "push back the womb" and "fix problem areas" such as sore shoulders. And of course, hopefully, slim down my stomach.
As you can guess, manipulating your internal organs involves pain. A lot of it.
As she pressed very hard with her deadly thumbs on where I think my bladder is, I almost squealed out: "Okay, I'll confess! When no one is looking, I..."
(But I'm not telling you what I do when no one is looking. You don't have a pair of thumbs that can maim a person permanently.)
Then as she pressed around other vulnerable areas, she told me that "your womb has moved to the left." How scary. I had no idea my womb had legs and was capable of scurrying around. But according to her, the womb had migrated to the left not because it was restless but because, in utero, the baby was fond of sleeping on the left side (which is true!). How uncanny. But anyway.
Afterwards, she wrapped metres and metres of cloth around my mid-section (think foot binding, but applied to the waist. In fact, I think she may have broken a few of my ribs in the process.) It was hot, it was yucky and so tight, I couldn't even bend at the waist. For hours, I was walking around looking like a person encased in a body cast.
But miracle of miracles, after only two days of binding, I was able to fit into a pre-pregnancy skirt (which was, admittedly, a bit loose to begin with, but still!).Now I look forward to fitting into my jeans again. The massage lady told me I won't be able to do so for at least another six months, but I live in hope.