Being pregnant feels a lot like being in school. I have tons of reading, some of it more engaging than the rest. It doesn’t feel like I’ll ever get through it, and I have no idea what’s going to be on the test. And not that childbirth is a test, exactly…but the amount of preparation for it (that I think, ultimately, doesn’t make a ton of difference) makes it feel like some kind of practical exam. I’m taking copious notes. I have what feel like study groups with my husband where we discuss our thoughts and our ideas for what we want to happen. I even have homework to turn in: the birth plan. I have a couple of doulas (and my husband) as cheerleaders and tutors. I could probably go on and on.

I’ve definitely noticed a shift in how I think of the pregnancy. In the beginning, I was passive. I would read updates from Baby Center and Pregnant Chicken. I was reading chapters in pregnancy books as they corresponded with how far along I was. It felt too soon to get bogged down in the details of the registry and other practical considerations. Now…it’s gotten downright aggressive. I almost don’t care about the updates and time-based chapters, though I still read them. They mostly feel like a litany of complaints that I (knock on wood) do not have. I’m tearing through books and ordering more and making a never ending stack (well, stacks, really) of things I want to get through.

And I’ve become an unstoppable list/timeline making machine. I’d like to say that doing that helps. But I’m pretty sure it’s making myself feel like I’m getting something done when I can’t really do anything. (Can’t really set up the nursery without clearing out the furniture currently in that bedroom. Etc. And it turns out you can’t do any heavy lifting when you’re pregnant. Which is totally restricting and lame.)

The baby itself feels different, too. It feels older somehow. And I don’t mean that months have passed and whatnot. I meant, it feels like it’s already a two-year-old or something. I don’t know if this is because I’m reading parenting books and getting ahead of myself. Or because it feels like I’ve known the baby for a really long time. Or because I had a dream where the baby came out as a two-year-old (and was wearing a pink dress even).

Speaking of which, the baby switched sexes on me. My husband and I are not finding out the sex of the child until we see it live, but we’ve been defaulting to the male pronoun throughout the pregnancy so far. Based on nothing. It just…felt like a boy for some reason. Then, a little over a month ago, when I was waiting to pick up a sandwich for lunch, I saw a family with a teenaged girl and had a wash of panic: we’re going to have a teenaged girl. And that’s kind of stuck for me. I’m pretty sure it’s a girl now. Again, based on nothing but whim/intuition. But it hasn’t faded yet, so we’ll see.

That’s it, really. I’m still totally pregnant. It still doesn’t really feel real. Though it’s very obvious from looking at me. Just a few more months to go and a lot of big changes already. We have a car! We bought a bunch of baby furniture from IKEA! We’re having an Indian baby shower (sort of) this weekend! It’s all happening…