Sleeping with my husband

Sleeping with my husband is never boring. (Sorry, Dad.) I believe this is because he’s always so on top of keeping our nighttime relationship fresh and exciting. His way of thinking hasn’t stopped even with this bowling ball-like protrusion where my 1-pack stomach used to be. Sure, I was concerned that my husband would view me differently after I became monstrously preggers, but even at 9 months huge my simplest of movements in bed still brings out caring phrases. Tender expressions like, “WHAT ARE DOING?!” yelled inches from my face. And “ARE YOU ALRIGHT?” shouted at top volume. Or “AHHHHHH…!” laying on his back with his eyes closed. Perhaps I should mention that all of these lovely sayings are uttered while my husband is dead asleep. And I thought pregnancy would change us.
I figured my pregnancy would affect me, but I wondered how it would affect my husband. In these last few waddling months he has become more sensitive, more caring, and more loud. My husband’s snoring and sleep-talking are still keeping me from sleeping. The difference is after one our middle-of-the-night-chats instead of falling back asleep instantly, I lie awake trying to get comfortable—for three hours. I’m awake until the morning Lark starts singing Europe’s “The Final Countdown” at our bedroom window. (Or is it the Nightingale? I always get them mixed up.)
“Do you remember yelling at me in your sleep last night?” I ask hubby the next morning.
“Huh?”
“You yelled, ‘ARE YOU ALRIGHT’ after I came back from the bathroom.”
“Oh.” (pause) “That was nice of me.”
Well, that’s one way of looking at it.
He has a point. At least he’s not shouting stuff like, “STOP MOVING!” or “QUIT BEING PREGNANT!” or worse yet, “ANGELINA JOLIE, COME FINISH MY MASSAGE!!”
My feet may look like two balloons, and I may have acquired large “man hands,” but with all this change it is nice to know some things haven’t changed one iota.  Lately, I’m taking great comfort in the little things, so it’s comforting (albeit sleep depriving) to know that some things will remain inherently “us”—maybe even his snoring.
“Honey, can you roll over? You’re snoring.”
“Huh?”
“Honey, can you roll over?”
“Why don’t you roll over?”
“I…er…”
(Pause)
“Never mind,” he begins, “I’ll do it for you…”
See? Nice. Now, if I could just get him to have the baby for me …