For about a month now, I’ve been making a pointed effort to sleep on my side as opposed to my back. My husband woke me up one night to tell me roll onto my side; usually, I wake up on my back. It’s difficult for me, so far — which is funny, since I fall asleep more easily when lying on my side and even have a big, firm, fluffy pillow designed since side-sleepers.
But it might just get easier, because I learned exactly why I need to avoid sleeping on my back.
I dreamt that I walked down a street in Connecticut — the street my paternal grandmother used to live on. It was fall, and the trees were just starting to turn. I held my daughter’s hand (she looked exactly like me when I was a kid), but I was in a lot of pain. A bandage was wrapped around my mid-section, stained with blood on the right side, and I could feel a sharp, stabbing ache in my back. Still, she was holding my hand, so happy to be with me, and there was no way I was going to let something as pansy as a little bit of pain interrupt my time with my girl.
Still, it hurt; we were going into a building, and I barely managed to make it through the doorway because my steps were slowing as the pain grew. Finally, I woke up…
… from sleeping on my back.
You know how sometimes you sleep on your arm funny, and it cramps up? I guess that is what happened to me — I slept on my back, my uterus crushed some vein, and my back cramped up. You know, exactly what the books warn you will happen. Of course, they’re all followed by dire warnings about how you can cause brain damage to your child because their blood supply is cut off, and so I laid there (on my side), paranoid to the point of tears, until I felt her move. Phew.
I need one of those cool little wedgie pillows to keep myself propped up on my side!
PS: Holy geez, September is almost over already…