Appointment anxiety

Yesterday, Nick and I had out first visit to the midwife. My major anxieties going into the appointment:
- What if she tells me I am not pregnant? That I'm really just a crazy person who has convinced herself that she is pregnant?
- Oh god, she's going to tell me that I'm pregnant.

Even after the multiple positive pregnancy tests, the very obvious and inconvenient morning sickness, and my general lack of energy, some days it is still hard to believe that there is a little thing in there. Growing. Becoming a person. Its weird. And sort of creepy.

Before I got pregnant, I had visions of becoming one of those calm and beatific moms, the ones who suddenly find themselves connected to all that is good and beautiful in the universe. I don't think that's going to happen because frankly, I have found the process thus far to be terrifyingly unpredictable and strangely unsettling. Don't get me wrong, I'm over the moon for this kid, but if you know me, you know I like plans, well thought out and sometimes thoroughly documented in list format plans. But this pregnancy seems to have a plan of its own and has so far only informed me on a need to know basis.

So needless to say, I was hoping that going to our first appointment would give me a better grip on things and in a way it did: all my bloodwork was normal, all my tests look good, and my body seems to be growing at the appropriate rate. The midwife herself was fantastic, listening to my every concern and answering my questions with honesty and openness. But in a way, I realized I'm probably not going to be able to get a grip on this like say, buying a house or completing a degree. It is different than anything I have ever even attempted. And that is weird. Not good weird or bad weird, just freaking weird. Eloquently put, no?