Babe: Two years and eleven months outside
Babeling: Six months inside

I sleep on my back. This is not allowed when you’re pregnant, because the weight of the baby presses on the artery that feeds the placenta. I imagine it being the equivalent of going to visit your friend in hospital and sitting on their oxygen tube by mistake (and then going to sleep).

Can’t lie on my right side, because it hurts my dodgy shoulder.

I’m meant to be lying on my left side. This gets my heart in the best position (for what? continuing to beat?) and it encourages the baby into the right position for being born. But whenever I lie on my left, apart from the fact that it’s wholly unnatural to lie on your side and I can never work out where to put the arm which is stranded on top, the babeling starts flailing his limbs frantically. This might be a desperate plea not to be squashed. I feel like I’m smothering a litter of squirming puppies with my giant belly.

Three hours last night, all of them on my back, I think. Don’t even ask how many hours babyfather got.

I think in order to really sleep well I need to be suspended upside down in a bag of amniotic fluid with a tube going directly into my stomach carrying oxygen so I don’t have to go to the trouble of breathing. That would be nice. Otherwise I’ll have to reconstruct the pillow fortress I designed last time: two under my head so I can breathe, one under the useless uppermost arm, one between my knees, and about four wedged behind babyfather’s back so he can’t roll over and start snoring.

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