I was sure my face looked like that when I tried to poop for the first time after labour. I mean, why did no one speak about postpartum poo?

The fear is real.

I refrained from going till the 5th day. What ran through my head was a pile of soil that kept on piling and the bottom portion became rock hard. That’s the point of no return. The thought of my thousand stitches tearing while I try to push it out of me was too frightening.

Day 4 came and I came to a realisation that what goes in, MUST come out. So rather than waiting around for shit to pile up (literally), I should try to go. I’ve been taking stool softeners and lots of fruits and vegetables despite the heaty confinement food. Surely, it will help. But my history of horrible constipation scares me shitless (pun intended).

So I went. I announced it to everyone. My nanny, Juvie, my girls, my colleagues, my mummy pals, everyone. I needed all the support I could get. Everyone was cheering me on, though it did not make me feel any better about the horror show that was about to happen.

I started praying. And as I had some sort of feeling that something is finally happening, I kept reminding myself not to tense up and hopefully the stool softeners work and it will slide out. I just have to not rush it.

After a good 2 and a half hours, it came out. I think I strained my stitches at the very end because it needed a good push or two but it was a now-or-never kind of situation. The strain in stitches did hurt for another week or so but I was so glad I did it. It was fucking scary but wasn’t THAT bad.

Ladies who need to go through this — I feel you. YOU CAN DO IT!