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Weighty Issues

Maths has never really been my strong point. Oh, don't get me wrong, I know all my times' tables, can recite many of my old theorems and can even add up all my purchases at Woolies to the very cent …

But this whole baby weight thing has got me going around in circles!

According to my pregnancy magazines, a healthy weight gain of 12 - 15kgs is ideal. So you can understand how SMUG I was that I gained a grand total of 14kgs throughout my entire pregnancy!

You can also understand how completely bewildered I am to have lost only 7kgs after Isabella was born!

Where on earth did I go wrong?

Hours and hours of research on the Internet (while drinking copious amounts of Hot Chocolate) proved no help at all. As did paging through my fourteen pregnancy and birth books while munching on a few Crunchies.

Then, I found this rather helpful guide on a UK website. Apparently, the average 12 kg weight gain can be broken down as follows:

3½ kg Baby Weight (Isabella was 3.50kgs - so pretty accurate.)
1 kg Amniotic Fluid (that seems like an awful lot!)
½ kg Placenta (still not too sure what this is…)
½ kg Breast Tissue (was v. happy about this!)
1 kg Blood Volume (was not so happy about this as it made me hot!)
½ kg Uterine Tissue (huh?)
1½ kg Water (mostly stored in my ankles…)
3½ kg Maternal Store (a.k.a saddle bags on my thighs!)
12 kgs

So, in other words, I should have lost all but 5½kgs when Isabella was born? Which makes no sense whatsoever, unless I was actually pregnant with twins and one of them hasn't been BORN yet.

Stephen hasn't been much help either, because for some reason known only to God Himself, my revolting husband has selfishly chosen THIS month to lose weight and has spent the last few days eating skinless chicken breasts and steamed vegetables instead of picking the biscuit crumbs off my still-ample bosom and commiserating about the fact that I have absolutely nothing to wear!

My brothers-in-law have been even less of a help by reminding me that I should no longer be eating for two (they obviously have no idea that I am still pregnant with Isabella's unborn twin). When I mentioned that I am actually now eating for HALF a person and am trying VERY hard to lose weight, they muttered that it doesn't show and I must be disguising my weight-loss efforts rather well.

And it does NOT help that all the Hollywood stars seem to gain 30kgs, give birth and then somehow manage to squeeze into a Size 2 for the Oscar Awards three weeks later. "Oh," they trill, "it just FELL off. I was so busy looking at my gorgeous baby that I forgot to eat!"

I am now faced with the equally revolting options of either going to gym or going on a Proper Grown-up Diet. Gym involves squeezing into tracksuit pants from my PI (Pre-Isabella) days, stepping onto a treadmill and walking mindlessly for endless kilometres while going nowhere. Going on a Proper Grown-up Diet involves spending ages either buying, planning, preparing or eating miniscule portions of rather bland food, when I would much rather be lying happily on the couch singing my way through the entire repertoires of the Sound of Music, Oklahoma, Chicago and Oliver with my enraptured daughter (who cares nothing about the size of my bum as long as I give her cuddles).

So, here I am - halfway between my PI clothes (too small) and my maternity clothes (too big). I am not that interested in either the gym or the diet and would much rather spend huge amounts of money on tablets that make me thin overnight. Or make me high. So that I think that I am thin. Whatever.

But, as Stephen piously put it while eating his skinless chicken breasts, "You didn't put the weight on overnight, so you can't expect to lose it overnight…"

And that, Your Honour, was when I killed him.

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