Except when my mother and husband convinced me it would be good for me to get some fresh air and exercise by walking the dog. This resulted in me puking in a neighbor's front yard and then running home crying. Success.
Based on my calculations (which look something like this -- amount of horrific symptoms / weeks gestation X my ability to handle said symptoms = evilness of baby), I assume my baby currently looks a little like this:
Or, perhaps, even this: