Sing Along - Even Breathing

The recent ruling by the Supreme Court has put me in the mind of how vulnerable pregnant women are.  It’s not something I’ll ever fully be able to appreciate, but having been a witness to the process from start to finish, I have observed a few things about breathing and sleep that couldn’t escape the melody in my mind for this song.

Did you know if you are a person who is pregnant, and you sleep the wrong way in bed, you can wake up in the middle of the night gasping for air?

I didn’t know this either until I watched it happen.  It will make you scared enough to go the emergency room the next morning to make sure everything is “ok” (indeed, a doctor will recommend you come in immediately if you have breathing problems).  There were tears in the examination room as I sat quietly listening to the nurse (also pregnant and extraordinarily kind and reassuring) explain to both Lindsey and I that this was a thing.

There is some nerve in the back and can get “pinched” if the weight of your pregnant body lies squarely and relaxed on it when you sleep.  Although I am a person lucky enough not to ever have to give birth, I still can see how the weight of a growing body can put pressure on your respiratory system when lying on your back.

There are unattractive and weird body pillows you can buy (we bought one) that helps pregnant ladies sleep comfortably and not be in danger of random night-time suffocation.  I’m still in shock we were able to sell it later on.  I’ve learned that there is no bed-making technique good enough to overcome the strange, ineffable feeling you get when you see a body pillow on a freshly made bed.

We discuss quality of sleep often in our house.  While Lindsey is a self-proclaimed light-sleeper and had difficulty early on in our relationship sleeping next to me, I learned this was completely understandable as I made a recording to actually hear what kind of sound I was making.  After listening to the recording and observing the visible waves in the sound recording the next morning there was no doubt that I had a snoring issue.  Lindsey went half on a sleeping machine for me as she simply could not sleep through my loud (but rhythmic) snoring.  She would get out of bed when I had started to (loudly) drift asleep.  I was blissfully unaware of the scale and aggressiveness of the noise my body was making while I was unconscious.

When the baby came, breathing became an activity I never knew I would think about so much.  The moment he arrived I expected screaming (if you can scream you can breathe)—but there was no screaming or crying for what seemed like an eternity (it was probably only like 30 seconds).  When he started screaming it was like he had officially been “born.”  I wept in the delivery room and simultaneously told him that he did a great job and how good he looked.  This is sort of an unfair thing for a mom—as her work isn’t done when the baby arrives (look it up).  When the baby slept quietly at night (rarely) I almost couldn’t take the stress of wondering if he was breathing and whether he would keep breathing.  But he did!  And he still is.  But let me go check just in case.