Tomorrow is a big day. While I have no big plans, other than to relax after a very hectic week of starting a new job and getting diagnosis after diagnosis from various medical professionals, Sunday is going to be a big day. It marks the beginning of my third trimester. I can hardly believe it. Like most things (marriage, living in Nashville, how long I’ve had my current group of friends) time becomes meaningless. It seems to have been both a very long time ago that I got pregnant and just yesterday too. I feel like it was forever ago that we were trying (every!other!day!) to conceive and all the disappointment and frustration that brought over a ten month period. I feel like I just peed on that stick and with tearful shock ran into the bedroom to show Huz. I feel like it was forever ago that I was drugged on progesterone pills, going to sleep at 8:30 at night and having to wake up at 2:00a.m. to take another dose. I feel like it was forever ago that I had a waist and felt sexy. I feel like I’ve always had that special smile on my face when I feel my child kick me from within, even though it’s only been 7 weeks since she’s been doing it everyday. I feel like I still have to tell people that I’m expecting, as I forget that it’s now obvious. I feel like it’s been forever since I’ve been able to sleep stretched out on my back in blissful slumber. It’s both been forever and just yesterday since my body has become something other than my own: a different person’s body, a body of it’s own. It’s been both scary and magical.

To celebrate the beginning of this final trimester, I share some self-portraits with you. Enjoy.

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