It’s common knowledge that the arrival of a precious baby almost always goes hand-in-hand with a departure of precious sleep.
What I didn’t know going into the realm of mother-to-be was that a still-developing little one can take a toll on your shut-eye even before he arrives. (Nor did I know babies could be so tricky.)
Lately, the eight or so hours I spend trying to sleep actually results in three or four hours of solid rest. In the world of percentages, that translates into less than 50 percent. In other words, I’m currently getting a big fat “F” in the sleep department. And, regardless of what you tried to tell your parents in high school, “F” still doesn’t stand for “fantastic.” (My under-eye circles are proof.)
Since hitting week 28, I’ve had all the usual sleep woes associated with being in your third trimester—heartburn, an inability to get comfortable, a constant need to pee, an ever-present fear of the under-the-bed witch, etc. (Okay, so that last one is totally non-pregnancy related and a sad result of my husband’s vivid story-telling abilities and my overactive imagination. Darn them both.)
Getting grouchier with every sleepless night that passed, I was happy to see a guide to sleeping when I picked up this month’s issue of P&N. The article gave explanations—and, more importantly, solutions!—to nearly all of my sleeping troubles. It didn’t address the under-the-bed witch problem, but I’ll be looking forward to that in next month’s issues. (Editors, take note!) [[ED.: Noted! ]]
As of last night, I’ve exchanged my usual bedtime snack of jalapeno peppers doused in hot sauce for a dose of Tums and begun placing an additional pillow under my stomach for support. Because I already slept with one pillow under my head, one between my knees, and one under my arm. What can I say? I’m a pillow glutton. It’s a trait passed on to me by my mother, who could single-handedly support the entire feather industry with her pillow addiction—I was surprised to find room for one more. But, as they say, where there’s a will …
I have yet to see if these little changes are enough to make the Sandman my friend again, but hopefully, soon, despite having a growing baby in my stomach, I’ll be sleeping like a … well, you know.