30 Weeks Pregnant: I Could Take Down Manny Pacquiao
Here it is. No beating around the bush or clever sugar-coating: I weigh as much as Manny Pacquiao.
Well, shit, since I’m being honest: I now weigh a lot MORE than Manny Pacquiao.
And if Floyd Mayweather had disclosed his day of fight weight, I probably could take him on too.
On May 2nd, we went to a little gathering to watch the fight. Purely in it for the pizza and cookies that would be served, I tagged along. As I’m stuffing said pregnancy crack into my mouth, the screen reveals the fighters weigh in stats:
Manny Pacquiao: Pre-fight 147 lbs. Day of fight 152 lbs.
“Oh my god,” I whispered to Peter, “I weigh as much as Manny Pacquiao.” He chuckled, in a that’s so cute and funny way. I chuckled in a, holy shit, I can’t believe I weigh as much as a boxer and I have half my pregnancy left to go… AND I still want another cookie tonight.
Like many of the moments I’ve had throughout this pregnancy, I agonized for a few minutes about my welterweight status, panicked about what my postpartum appearance would be like, beat myself up for indulging maybe more than I should have… and then proceeded to have another cookie. Because I’m pregnant. And. I. Want. A. Cookie.
So here we are… 2 plus months later and I’m guessing by boxing standards, I’m now a middleweight. In total I have gained 27 pounds… and I have 10 weeks go go… So there it is.
It’s probably safe to say that more and more, the summer heat and what feels like an iron foot jabbing my bladder is making me way too tired to agonize as much about my weight and having that one, okay, three, bites of ice cream after lunch. (Side note, why the EFF has it taken me so long to discover Chunky Monkey?! It’s like ice cream of the gods).
Great, now I need to get up and have some.
Okay, I’m back.
Thankfully, I’ve started to ease up on the inner mean voice and am starting to appreciate this time and trying as much as I can to revel in these moments… from cravings to kicks to complete sobbing during Pampers commercials… This may/will probably be my last pregnancy. Better enjoy it while it lasts, “boxing body” and all.
At 30 weeks pregnant with Jonah, I’m pretty sure I had just about completed his nursery and managed to squeeze in 3 yoga classes and several naps a week… This time around, things are slightly different. I’ve got a 7 1/2 year old child, my husband had to have surgery, and we moved into a new house a month ago (and by new, I mean it was built in 1951, but everyday, there seems to be something “new” that we need to do, i.e. pay for). Needless to say, my plate is full… and that does not include the cookie that is now also on my mind from my story just a few paragraphs back.
Coming up in the next 10 weeks, I plan to share before and after photos of the house, must have registry items (oh my, how things have changed in 8 years!), some end of pregnancy fashion tips (that doesn’t include leggings), and some thoughts on having a second baby when for so long, there’s only been one…
So stay tuned for all of that. In the meantime, if you see me, please don’t ask me if I’m having twins, or a girl, or if my due date is any day now. I’m totally healthy, I’m having a boy, and I’ve still got 2 1/2 months to go. And if you have anything else to say about that, step in to my ring….
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