It feels like maybe backflips and/or somersaults. Lots of them.
Pudding (chosen as the little passenger's nickname when I asked Jason "Are you ready for pudding?" in reference to the dessert I had just finished making and he gave me a puzzled look and asked if I meant the baby, in which case, no, he was not quite ready) has gotten big enough that I can actually feel movement now.
It's a strange, fascinating feeling. I like it. It's comforting to know that Pudding is in there, hanging out, doing gymnastics and growing. We went in for an ultrasound early last month and they said everything looks a-okay (though they weren't able to count Pudding's fingers, since those little hands were in almost constant motion).
Today I'm right around 22 weeks. We're signed up for childbirth class and carseat class and another class (I forget the name of it now, but it sounded like a good one when I signed up, I'm sure), and I'm trying to find an infant CPR/first aid class. I also interviewed a doula who I really felt like I clicked with, and who I think we'll end up hiring. I have a bunch of books that I'm reading all at once.
I still feel woefully unprepared but I do have another what, four months? That's enough time to read more books and finish the baby's room and buy a carseat and... well, it's probably enough time for really just those things, and buying necessary clothes and whatnot. And to maybe get my head a little more fully wrapped around the idea of having a baby and being a parent. I did this on purpose! I feel like it shouldn't be so mind-boggling now that it's really happening.