Not-so Cuddle Monkey

Everyone tells you that the first few months of motherhood are one long lesson in sleep deprivation. What they don't tell you is: so is the last month of pregnancy. Yes, I know what you are thinking, your body is preparing itself for the sleepless nights ahead. But seriously, what a load of crap is that? It's my last week without a newborn I should be sleeping like well,... a baby!

With my infection almost behind me (knock on wood) I was finally able to get relatively comfortable last night. The ac was cranked up. I had my fan positioned perfectly so it was hitting me at just the right angle. My pillows were propped up under me in all the right places. The only problem was: I wasn't sleeping alone.

I have always made fun of couples who told me they slept in separate beds during the last few weeks of their pregnancy, but now I think I am starting to understand it. Normally, I hate sleeping without Bret. After eight years, you sort of get accustomed to your partner's nose whistle and the way their foot jerks when they drift off to sleep and frankly, it's just weird without it. But when your 38 weeks pregnant in the worst heat wave in ten years you are so uncomfortable that a mere sigh from the other side of the bed drives you bonkers.

Up until a few weeks ago — when my belly was still a manageable size — I thought it was cute when Bret slept with his arm tight around me so he could feel her moving throughout the night and his leg curled up on top of mine letting me know he there if I needed him. Now, I swear the additional weight of his arm on my belly makes me need to run to the bathroom even more and the extra heat from his body has me sweating all over the sheets before its even midnight.

I have tried to be discreet and move to the other size of the bed but it doesn't work. I have even gone so far as to try to roll him over in the middle of the night. But when your pregnant you will find that  your husband becomes like a tracker. He follows you from one side of the bed to the other when you are sleeping — and even from room to room in the apartment — just watching you and keeping an eye on things. It's like some sort of protective mechanism embedded in their brains.

One of us really should sleep on the couch tonight. We would probably both get a better night of sleep and we need it. But at the end of the day, as uncomfortable as I am, I think I'd rather enjoy our last seven nights without BGS and be a little sleep deprived. Of course, once Bret reads this and finds out what a bad wife I am I may find myself on the couch anyway.

BGS at 28 weeks.