The Boppy

I've always been great at sleep. I may not always be, or always have been, great at sleeping enough, but when it comes to sleeping, I'm a champ. This is one thing I can do.

So in reading pregnancy books, blogs, etc., I'm shocked and sympathetic towards so many pregnant women who seem to have issues sleeping -- tossing and turning, etc. Now, I'm getting up to pee multiple times in the night, just like anyone else. Er, anyone else who's pregnant. However, I'm so great at sleeping that falling back to sleep is a breeze.

Although. As I'm growing, I am noticing more stiffness. I'll wake up with one of my arms all tingly and asleep. My neck and shoulders are .tight. It's getting harder to find a position that works for both myself and Tiny. I'll lay on my stomach, like I used to, or even on my side, tilted toward my stomach... and I get kicked. Excuse me? Just trying to sleep, here. So I can, oh, I don't know, keep making you properly.

So though my sleeping complaints are few, I've been eyeing a maternity pillow for some time now. I had a talk with Eric, who takes his job as pillow/cuddle companion quite seriously. I explained the importance of keeping a pillow (or something) between the knees, so as to ensure proper back alignment and lack of tightness. I explained the kicking. I assured him that he would in no way lose his status as Primary and Most Important Pillow. I even promised to get rid of my ancient, falling apart pillowcase that I've used exclusively for the past five years if he would allow a maternity pillow into our marriage bed.

He took several weeks to think about it.

Last night, I researched maternity pillows extensively.

I bought the cheapest one I could find. Picked it up today from Target. It looks super strange, but it's called The Boppy:

And yet. Oh, and yet.

It is so comfortable. And I haven't even slept with it yet. I lay down on the bed, just to test it out, and didn't want to get up.

I went out to the living room to find Eric.

"How was it?"

"Well, I was going to tell you that you had to try it out, but now I don't think I'll let you. I don't want you to steal it from me."

Instantly, he assumed a puppy dog, I've-been-replaced-by-a-goofy-looking-pillow, abused husband look. I sat myself on his knees and tried to comfort him.

Five minutes later, I walked into the bedroom to find him wrapped around my pillow. He wouldn't move.

"You have to get your own," I told him. "This one's mine." He just looked at me. "I'm the one making the baby. I get the pillow."

"I helped make it, too," he told me. "I just finished my part already. Get with the program already."

I think the boppy will fit into our family just splendidly.