Bed Issues

It seems that, with each pregnancy, the list of things that make my life miserable increases. This time around, I have all the normal miserable things, but two more things have been added - this weird Anti-Lutheran antigen thingey and now bed issues. And not husband-and-wife bed issues. I'm an oversharer, but not THAT much of an oversharer.



I'm talking about the fact that I cannot sleep in my bed. I've tried and tried. It's been weeks since I've slept in my own bed. The couch is my bed. There are a few issues contributing to this phenomenon:



1. Ben's snoring.



All the women folk in my mom's line have had a history of Restless Legs Syndrome. My great-grandma. My grandma. My mom. And now me. I get it off-and-on in my normal life, but when I'm pregnant, it's OFF THE CHARTS. And if you've never had it, it's hard to explain. Basically, you'll be lying there, starting to drift off to dreamland, and HYYYYY-YAHHHH!! You start karate kicking your husband. You go, whoa, that was weird. You apologize to your husband for the kicking, lie back down, start to drift... and then.... suddenly, you feel the tremendous urge to stretch your legs clear up to your face. Or jump up and literally run a marathon. Many times, I've hopped out of bed and started to do ballet jumps and grand plies. Anything to get those wiggles out. It's insane. My grandma's antidote to RLS was to wear those leg warmers that go clear from your ankles to your thighs. My mom wraps a small blanket as tightly as she can around her legs, like a mummy. I find that taking warm baths really helps to fight RLS. It seems to me that the warmth of the legs is essential. My mom actually takes some pills for her RLS and has found a lot of relief. She says you can take away any of her other pills, but don't EVER take away her RLS pills. :)



So, as a result of my RLS, it takes me a lot longer to fall asleep. I used to fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, thereby not being bothered by Ben's snoring. But now I lie in bed for a good two hours before I fall asleep. If I'm lucky. Ben falls asleep almost immediately after he lies down, and I lie there listening to his incessant snoring for hours. I ask him to roll over a few times, but the snoring never stops, and I continue doing rond-de-jambs en l'air with my legs. I decided a couple of months ago to invest in some ear plugs. The kids really love playing with them:

It hasn't really helped. I can't hear Ben snoring, but I think there are a few more bed issues I need to address. It's a multi-pronged problem.



2. My bed feels like a metal examination table.



I still just can't get comfortable. It felt fine for the past three years, but lately, to me, it feels as hard as a rock. So my kind husband went and bought me one of those eggshell foam things to put on your mattress to make it softer. It really feels so nice, but still, I cannot sleep.



3. I have a sensation that I'm going to roll off the bed. It's just so FLAT. I know this is soooo weird. Sleeping on the couch gives me that support on one side, and the couch kind of sucks me into its pillowy depths, and for some reason, that gives me comfort, and I'm able to sleep.



4. My heartburn is already kicking in, and being able to kind of prop myself up in one corner of the couch gives me a lot of relief. I can prop myself up in my bed, but then the rolling-off-the-bed sensation is too much for me.



I try a couple of times a week to fall asleep in my own bed, but to no avail. However, I find that, when I get up at four in the morning to pee and then go downstairs into my bed, I can fall back asleep easily. But that initial falling-asleep thing has continued to be elusive, unless I'm on my womblike couch.



I think Ben is taking it personally, and I keep trying to tell him that it's not him, it's me. But it ends up sounding like a lame breaking-up speech: "It's not you; it's me..." The fact that his breath smells like Kraft Macaroni and Cheese to me isn't helping matters. Sometimes I start gagging if his breath gets in my face, and I feel badly about it. I hold my breath a lot to spare his feelings. Poor guy. I just keep telling him that I adore him; I just can't sleep in our bed or be near his breath for awhile. (Or anyone's breath. I had flee Relief Society a week ago. All I could smell in there was stale breath, and I nearly vomited. And last night, Dylan and I were watching the closing ceremony of the Olympics, and his breath was so repulsive to me that I got up and started folding clothes so that I didn't have to smell it.)



Pregnancy is the WORST.