I’m not completely sold on all the things people say about pregnancy. I mean take cravings for instance… can’t say I don’t ever not crave sweets. Pregnancy just gives me the extra push to indulge. I’m speaking for myself here, per usual, because I know some pregnant women crave weird things like rust and dirt, though I think that has some connection to an iron deficiency. Point being, I’m not sold on all the crazy things that people seem to only associate with pregnancy. Except… except when it comes to nesting. ‘Cuz, for me, that shit be real.

I’ve been hounding Willy to clear some space in the garage so I can get to sorting. I’m pretty sure he wants to kill me. I’m also pretty sure that every honey-do list I write is only read by me but somehow I can’t bring myself to stop writing those little weekly lists of tasks I so hope get completed; as if writing them allows for some degree of hope that they might get done… or even considered.

Over the past weekend, we finally made a dent in the pile of things that need to be done and I feel so much better… so-much-so that suddenly this whole pregnancy bit has come to a screeching halt; almost as if the more that gets done, the less I have to do, and the more time I have to just, well, wait.

Up until this point, time had been flying and I was feeling more than patient because with all that was needing to be done, the time I had left felt like a gift of the-more-the-merrier variety.

Looking at myself in the mirror hasn’t helped matters. Not that I don’t embrace what my body is doing, I do, but it seems like all of the sudden I’m full-blown-pregnant… as in someone soon will be asking me if I’m due tomorrow and I’ll have to go home and cry after I confess that my due date is in March… This baby is going to be big, I can tell already. I’m not quite sure how there’s even room for three more months (and then some, given my track record for blowing well past my due date) of expansion.

And so, for the first time during this pregnancy, I’m getting anxious to get to the end. The periodic jabs serving as a reminder of the life growing inside of me; the will to meet this little human growing with the strength of each kick, punch, and roll.

It feels much like Cuba, so near… yet so far.

Photos taken by Tish Carlson, who so generously came to spend some time with us in Arizona over the Thanksgiving holiday. For these images… and all the others she took which are sure to filter their way into this space… I’m beyond grateful.