No, she's not relishing in the fact that she's growing a tiny human being in her uterus. She isn't embracing the thought that she's about to fulfill one of womens' greatest responsibilities in this world, bringing a new life into existence. She's not even that excited about her matching pajama ensemble (although, if you ask me, I have yet to figure out how a very pregnant woman, like her or myself, could stand wearing socks, let alone having that much clothing touch her body at any given time).
This woman is smiling because her husband most likely just gifted her that awesome body pillow she's spooning with. Or, if you're like me, your husband blissfully and unawaredly purchased that pillow for you for Mother's Day, mostly so that you would stop your bitching and moaning, huffing and puffing and tossing and turning, completely uninformed of the toll it would soon take on his place in the marital bed.
I love my Snoogle. I also love my husband. But let's say my house was on fire and I had to run back in and save something. I would most definitely grab my Snoogle while simulataneously beating my husband with it so that he could get out, too. What? Did you HONESTLY think I wouldn't save my husband? Sheesh. He was the one who bought me the Snoogle, afterall, wasn't he!? You can't kick a gift horse in the mouth, right? Or rather, you can't leave the father of your baby/the giver of the Snoogle in a burning building to fend for himself! I have morals, people!
The Snoogle. A body pillow designed to cradle the pregnant woman's aching body so that she may sleep more comfortably, more soundly and wake up feeling refreshed and rejuvenated.
The Snoogle. A device conjured up by a pregnant woman, taken to bed by said pregnant woman, to ward off sex-seeking husbands, reducing their space to sleep in the bed down to a measly quarter of an inch.
You say tomato, I say to-mah-to, right?
As I'm writing this post, I can almost hear my husband's voice, echoing that last sentiment as he begins to band with other daddy's-to-be, armed with torches and pitchforks, ready to form a coalition against the Snoogle.
Yes, I feel awful 98% of the time, as I'm returning from overnight trip number 476 to the bathroom, standing next to the bed as I fluff and turn the Snoogle, most often knocking my husband in the face/back/knee while he sleeps peacefully.Yes, I miss spooning with him without a giant foamy, cottony wedge laying defiantly between us.
And yes, it makes me giggle outloud when I wake up, prior to overnight trip number 476 to the bathroom and find my husband, squished up against the opposite side of my Snoogle, mirroring my own spooning position. Drooling, but with a faint smile on his face. Subconsciously, I KNOW he loves the Snoogle, too!
No darling husband, do not think you have been replaced. Although I am sure that I did read somewhere that the Snoogle may or may not be a contributing factor to the rising rates of divorce among young married couples. It was somewhere on a list between "crazy pregnant women horomones" and "crazy, ridiculous demands your pregnant wife will make in the last trimester."
Hey, at least I'll admit to these things, right?
Darling husband, just take solace in knowing that the Snoogle isn't permanent. With a little more than 5 weeks (or less) until Baby Boy makes his entrance into our family, know that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. We will be a Snoogle-less sleeping husband and wife again, soon.
Oh, darling husband! By the way... Have I shared with you my thoughts on this fabulous infant-soothing tactic I read all about? It's called.... Co-sleeping!!
Disclaimer: Let it be known that I love my husband WAY more than I love my Snoogle and no, I would NOT rush back into a burning building to save said Snoogle before my darling husband. This post was written purely to delight an audience and does not boast a personal opinion for or against or regarding the benefits, safety or non-benefits of co-sleeping. The author of said post also does not truly believe that the Snoogle is in any way related to the rates of divorce amongst married couples. Read and laugh, dear audience. Read and laugh..