The Rocket Launcher of London

I grew up listening to the sounds of sleeping.  My dad did it, my mum too.  When we stayed at my nan’s house she did it and my grandad’s night long mumbling and thumping is still cause for many a joke.  He’s a martyr to his insomnia, don’t you know.  They’re not alone, even I admit to doing it (although I only know this because others tell me so) and the boy seems to have picked it up too, although in his case no-one can consider it anything but cute.

I’m talking about snoring.

The exception to that used to be the husband.  He never used to snore, or at least I never noticed it.  In more recent years I’ve only noticed it at times when we’ve gone to bed at the same time (he usually holds out until the early hours of the morning whereas I’ll happily be in bed by 10 or 11) and he’s fallen asleep first.  It’s very rarely bothered me at night and when it has, a sharp jab to the ribs or a kick in the leg seems to sort things.

But recently it’s gotten worse.  One thing anyone who’s ever been pregnant knows is that there comes a point when your body starts to deny your bladder’s existence, a point where it wants a constant line to the nearest toilet.  Try as you might to ignore the fact, you’re popping off to the loo every hour and it only gets worse the further on you get.  You would think by 3 o’clock your body would have gotten a hold on itself and you could last out until the alarm goes off but it’s not true.  Just because you haven’t taken a sip of water since 10 o’clock the previous night doesn’t mean you won’t need to pee.  Yup, a pregnant woman’s body is a law unto itself. 

Combine that with the insomnia I was suffering due to the lofepramine (which has thankfully subsided now) and it made for some very long nights.  Awake.  Listening to the husband’s snoring.  Which is now more frequent and reaches higher decibels than ever before. 

I thought that things would get better once I was sleeping well again.  And they did.  I sleep fairly heavily and so don’t notice the snoring.  When I’m asleep, that is.  The bathroom trip before the husband comes to bed is easy: out of bed, back to bed, fall back to sleep in seconds.  It’s the ones after that are a problem.  Three or four times a night that I wake up to stumble to the bathroom and return to bed to listen to his refrain. 

It’s loud and near-constant.  A jab to the ribs or a kick in the leg only serves to wake the husband briefly and is more likely to give me bruises than him.  It takes less than seconds for him to fall back to sleep and the moment his eyes close the roaring starts up again.  If I try to wake him again he claims to be awake, that he’s not even snoring.  He’s that unaware of the noise he’s making.  The one that, to my ear right next to him, seems louder than a rocket launching. 

The husband’s tried nasal strips; they don’t work.  Anti-snoring mouthwash doesn’t even touch the problem and he claims it makes him feel sick.  I know how he feels – the smell makes me feel sick too.  He’s tried oral strips but they last only an hour or two at most.  The other night I was so frustrated after listening to him for the best part of an hour that I found the sleeping bag and sent him down to the sofa.  I would’ve gone myself but I’m pregnant and it’s not right (and don’t you dare shatter that illusion).  It wasn’t a great solution; he ended up playing on the xBox and the bed just felt empty (even if it was a little quieter). 

I’m at my wits end and need a solution.  But at least when the baby’s born, if he can sleep through the noise his father makes, he’ll be able to sleep through anything.