Art of labour

This was what happened last night:

8.00pm - Puked
10.30pm - Puked
2.30am - Puked
4.00am - Puked
7.30am - Got ready to puke but it didn't happen.

Sigh. Don't even get me started on what I saw in the toilet bowl.

Gee, whats wrong with me.

Seriously, puking needs a lot of energy.Supposedly it feels like one time I puked = the energy needed for one child labour. Imagine how many times that happened last night alone. I'm seriously in need of ORS and KJs.

Correction: Now that I'm actually thinking about it, perhaps labour is twice the energy + pain + lost of blood + compromise of uterus. *shakes head*

The redundancy of the experience just shows that there is really no celebration needed for birth days. How can one find a cause for celebration when it also represents the day of utter pain and exhaustion (pardon me but it's a matter of life and death for some) to mothers?

Besides, that's not all, the pain will severely be felt probably double the initial one during labour when after ten years of motherhood, they find their child being brutally raped and killed by some sick pervert. (Condolences to Nurin Jazlin's parents - I hope they get that person really soon and screw the law for negligence!)

So much for ranting this bright morning, I know what you're thinking but I'm not pregnant.