Does it all come with the bump?

I have read every baby magazine I could get my grubby little paws. I read glossy page after glossy page of mommies saying what a miracle it is to be pregnant and how wonderful it feels to know there’s a life growing inside you.
Unfortunately after my week long crash course in babies my stress levels have spiked not declined.
Despite the fact that I have stopped smoking and people now refrain from making loud noises and sudden movements around me. I only feel more and more stressed.
I feel stressed because stressed is all that I feel.
I have come to terms with the fact that I am going to become a mom and am to say the very least psyched about it, but I don’t feel pregnant.
Yes I know its an abstract term in essence and I have pondered the exact definition of it myself and while I have yet to come up with anything conclusive I am sure that feeling pregnant must feel different.
And I don’t feel different.
Apart from having a conscious motivation to eat more regularly, take my vitamins and quit my bad habits I feel the same.
And feeling normal has never been this uncomfortable before.

Apart from the intangible, abstract and perhaps idealistic feelings that I should be feeling I am also not displaying any of the more medical accurate symptoms.
I don’t have morning sickness
I don’t have food aversions (other than my aversion to the time consuming practice of eating more than once a day)
I don’t feel more tired than usual (Okay that a lie, I do but that’s only because I haven’t been sleeping lately because I was on the wrong side of the bed)
My sense of smell is only more acute because I’v quit smoking and the frequency of my bathroom visits is by no means an accurate benchmark as I have always had a bladder the size of an atom.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Yes I realize that all you more experienced woman are rolling your eyes at me ready to pick up the phone and remind me that I’m only six weeks along and all this will come.
And you don’t need to, I know that logically you are right, but the fact is that I am petrified that I am going to have that blood test done and the docs gonna tell me I’m not pregnant.
That I’m gonna have to go home and tell Eugene that that baby that he’s been kissing and talking to and bragging about never existed.

Drizel said that she only started to feel anything at 12 weeks and tomorrow when I have the blood work done (a prospect that in itself could reduce my towering confidence to rubble) I’m going to hanging on to that for dear life