Under normal circumstances, I can sleep like it’s my job.
Lately, not so much.
When Dan and I first got married, sharing a bed was quite the task for me. First of all, he’s 6’2″, and anyone who tells a light sleeper with a very tall husband that a queen mattress is plenty of space is almost certainly not a light sleeper with a very tall husband. Being 6’2″ means there’s a lot of limb going on over there on that side of the bed. Often times those limbs bend and, in doing so, cross that imaginary half-way line on the mattress. I cling to that line as though it were actually drawn down our sheets. “You’re over half-way.” “Scoot your knee hunny!” and on particularly restless nights, “You’ve got to be kidding Dan. Move your arm please.” can be heard from a sleepy 5’3″ wife whose precious space has been encroached upon*.
Eventually though, I got used to it and peace was restored to my sleeping space. Until: the invader.
I thought 2 people in our bed was a lot. Our little nugget, weighing only slightly more than 1/2 a pound, has once again changed the dynamics of¬† my sleeping situation. I’m not sure what the learning curve for sleeping through getting kicked in the bladder is, but I’m on the road to finding out. Also, suddenly I need, like, support while I’m sleeping – I don’t know how else to explain it. I ball up a blanket under my legs, or stick a small pillow under my tummy, but then when I go to roll over, it takes 5 minutes to set my ‘support’ back up on the other side. A few times a night of switching sleeping positions and a couple one-two punches to the organs at 3 AM, and I’m a grumpy lady.
And yes, I can hear all the voices of those who have ‘been there, done that’ in my head saying “Oh, you just wait until baby comes, see how you sleep then…“. I know, I know, this is probably minor in the grand scheme of things, but trust me, it doesn’t feel trivial. Unfortunately, Advil PM and the like are out of the question, as is sleeping in.
So, sleepy and at times short tempered due to exhaustion, I carry on. As is the case with all good things in life, the road there isn’t easy (or in this case, restful).
*Dad, I know it should be ‘upon whose precious space has been encroached’, but how dumb does that sound? In the interest of readability and prose, thanks for ignoring my poor grammar.