(from the sarcastic journal)
Much to the dismay of my dermatologist, I've always been a belly sleeper. Before I became pregnant for the first time, I had to sleep in the exact same position every night: on my belly, head towards the right, feet crossed just so with my hands tucked up under my pillow.
Even though I was slightly worried at the beginning of my pregnancy about sleeping on my belly, instinct quickly won over and I kept on sleeping that way, figuring I should enjoy it while I could.
Then, the belly started getting a little bigger and the baby started kicking. I really had a hard time sleeping on my stomach, thinking about this itty bitty baby girl in there, kicking at me to change position. Sometimes I imagined a tiny little fetus voice screaming “help me!”
Once it became impossible to sleep on my belly, I went out and bought one of those expensive “body pillows.” You know, the type that are about the length of your bed and resemble a snake? Yeah, I had one of those.
Except, I hated it. I’m not sure how I was supposed to sleep with it (I don’t remember reading a “how to sleep with your pillow for dummies” manual), and just couldn’t get it down. Hands above or below? Do I “spoon” it or just snuggle up near?
Finally, the stupid thing made it to the closet, along with all the other things I thought I needed but never used. I took up sleeping with a variety of pillows for comfort: one for my back, one for my head and one between my legs. If I was feeling in the mood for some loving, I might even hug one.
My entourage of pillows and I took up a good ¾ of our bed, a fact that I’m pretty sure secretly annoyed my husband. If my conquering of the bed wasn’t enough to anger him, the fact that a group of pillows were getting more “action” than he was (thanks to my nonexistent libido) probably did the trick.
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