I’m 19 weeks pregnant. I can live with the whole your body is not really your own, but that damn pillow! It’s got some awkward bulk on me. I’m not huge by any means or even some wilting flower. I’m 5’ 4” and the pillow goes from my chin to the middle of my shin.
It started when I couldn’t get comfortable. I upgraded my king size support pillow to a mamma-jamma body pillow. And while this pillow is comfy when you’re lying down, I can’t turn over in bed without feeling like the turtle on its back. I grunt, struggle, and curse my way through the process. It weighs me down and taunts me as it gets caught in the sheets. My wise husband knows not to laugh as I swear up and down it’s the pillow's fault. I wake him up and myself in the process.
I dig in deep and fight the epic pillow battle. But in the end the damn pillow does me in. Sure, I could downsize, but then all the pillows in the house would know I surrendered. They’d mock me with their cushy goodness and I’m so much stronger than that. Plus, my 11-year old couch has been eyeing me sideways, and it already threatens to engulf me every time I sit down.
So until then, I’ll wage the pillow wars every night until I finally get stuck in a tangled mass of sheets, pillow and my own ire. I just wonder if David will stop pretending not to laugh and fetch the Jaws of Life.
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