Rules Following...and Rules Breaking

There are lots of rules with pregnancy. Within these rules, there are 3 categories to be aware of:

• 'Don't think about breaking these' rules (ixnay the heroin and no kick-boxing classes)
• 'It would be nice if you could follow these' rules (avoid unpasteurized cheese and caffeine)
• 'I heard this once from a totally unreliable source, but you should take it as the word of God' rules (don't get massages or travel--at all).

By nature, I am a rules freak. It's totally lame, but I love rules and guidelines. They let me know what I should be doing. Instead of wasting time making decisions, rules allow me to spend quality time thinking about what constitutes the perfect grilled cheese sandwich and all the possible uses of a paper clip.

Naturally when one is pregnant for the first time (and is an ardent rules follower), you (I) might tend to become a touch obsessive about following the rules. So you (I) don't break the rules. No matter how many people say a glass of red wine is fine, and go ahead and have that cup of coffee.

And this works well for me...usually. But this wouldn't be a worthwhile discussion if there wasn't more to it.

What happens when you've broken the rules unintentionally and unawares?

Dear Interwebs: I've been breaking the rules IN. MY. SLEEP.

Rule #3 in the "Growing a Baby" handbook (and coincidentally #3 in the "Common Sense Rules to Growing a Baby" cliff notes edition): Don't sleep on your stomach.

Pre-pregnancy my sleep position of choice was on my left side in a half-fetal position. Like so:

But with a little less fur.

Do you know what the absolutely perfect sleeping position for pregnant women happens to be??? CORRECT. That one!

I was unreasonably pleased with myself for the 5 minutes of this pregnancy I spent reading pregnancy books. "I already sleep in that position. How fabulous of me. I should celebrate with macaroni and cheese!"

Imagine my horror when for the *cough-hiccup-burp* night in a row, I've woken up flat out on my stomach like this:


This time with more fur.

Granted, I haven't "popped" yet, so I'm thinking that once there's a huge belly in the way, I'm going to be less inclined to sleep on top of a beach ball, but I'm also fairly sure The Bean (we're still auditioning pet names) doesn't want to be crushed under my not unsubstantial weight when it's barely bigger than an avocado.

So now I've taken to waking up in starts and fits until I "catch" myself sleeping on my stomach. At which point, I banish myself to the couch (aka: Detention for Unfit Baby Growers) where I play Scrabble on the iPad for 4 hours and fall asleep precisely 20 minutes before I need to get up and start my day.

Sleep deprivation v. guacamole baby. It's a tough choice.