Who's the Baby?

I had a mini meltdown last night.  I fell asleep on the couch next to Adam, who was playing video games, and woke up around midnight feeling as crummy as I had been feeling all day.  And it just hit me.  I was sick of being sick.  All. The. Time.  It's like I can't get away from my own body.  I've been trying really hard not to complain, to see the bigger picture of what all these changes in my body signifies--a little life growing inside.  I know women have been doing it forever, and who am I to complain about the all-day morning sickness, the aches and pains, and the exhaustion?  But last night my irrational side took over and I threw a fit.  I was tired and restless.  I was hungry with no appetite.  I felt like a puddle of dough on the couch because that's where I've been residing for the last 5 weeks.  When I watch tv shows or movies of women who are pregnant running around, living their lives, I get jealous.  I have not had that luxury.  Or is it really mind over matter?  Am I succumbing to being a baby because I am growing a baby?  Needless to say, I am grateful for Adam's continued patience and sensitivity to it all.  He ended up tucking me into bed and holding me as best he can (everything hurts) until I fell asleep again.  Thank God for good husbands.