Sharing a bed with someone is never as romantic as it sounds.

For one thing, unless you are tiny or have a huge bed, there is the space issue. Steve and I fight over space as if we were children. We have serioulsy drawn a line down the middle of the bed and measured the "extra inches" the other person is leaving unused betweeen said person's body and the edge of the bed.

With pregnancy, however, there come a host of other problems to exacerbate the situation. For one thing, I get really bad acid reflux. I can be in a deep sleep and suddenly the contents of my stomach will creep up into my throat and choke me. I am not not kidding. It is most unpleasant. I try to fix it by chewing tums and propping myself up on pillows. I also find that it helps to stay on my left side. Add to this the fact that, at rest, my breathing very heavy and I sound like a 400 pound man who has just raced up a flight of stairs.

When I'm on my left side I am facing Steve. For some reason he also seems to be most comfortable facing ME, on his RIGHT side. We end up having to do a lot of shuffling and propping up / down of selves to find a position we are both comfortable in.

Recently it has become so bad for Steve that HE has started complaining. I listen to his complaints with half and ear because I know that, however bad it is for him, he is not sleeping with a bowling ball in his abdomen, nor will he wake up with vomit creeping into his throat. Also, he sleeps in the middle of the bed with his elbow and hand on MY pillow while my leg is dangling off the edge of the bed, so...

But the other morning Steve told me we had had a particularly bad night. He told me that I was facing him, breathing very heavily. "I couldn't escape the wind your breath was creating," he said. "And because you had just chewed one of those Tums it all smelled sweet."

"It was a Cherry Monsoon," he said.

Cherry Monsoon. Now I can't climb into bed without thinking "Cherry Monsoon."