Pillow Problems

It’s now been four months since Bertus has been in my life.
And while I hear you wondering who Bertus is by now, I will obviously be telling you. Show a little patience, you.

Bertus is a pregnancy pillow. Named thusly as it’s previously intended name (‘Henk‘) became a less viable choice after I matched one of those on Tinder. Can’t be naming bed buddies after potential bed buddies, right? (Not that Henk ever made it past chat-stage, but that isn’t relevant, it would’ve still been awkward. Note: yes, I find wrongly naming my pillow more awkward than the crazy-level attached to actually even naming a pillow to begin with.)

I feel you sitting there with some questions at this stage.

Owning a pregnancy pillow is not your everyday bedroom item, I suppose. Especially if you’re quite strongly making the point on every possible occasion that you will in fact never ever ever ever ever be doing the actual pregnancy thing. No babies. No sir. But let me explain:

We women…
We get hot in bed.
Not like the general over the top ‘WHAT ARE YOU…A STOVE?‘ kind of hot that men tend to get, but still. We get hot.

And when you sleep on your side, preferably under a full winter stuffed four seasons duvet, that might become an issue. Because my thighs seem to fight a daily war, and when they get too close to each other they launch into battle. Aka, there’s heat, there’s friction and more deadly: there’s chafing. None of them things I wanna be when trying to fall asleep.

Another thing when side-sleeping is that you most definitely, most quickly and most passionately miss something to hold on to. Sure, propping up the blanket up between your legs and hugging it for dear life might suffice in some situations, but it is generally lacking in substance. And in the absence of an actually spoon to spoon (read: stove-man); a girl must make due. Which I did. By purchasing Bertus.

Pregnancy pillows solve all of the issues in my sleeping life all at once. They are conveniently person-shaped and huggable. They’re cool to the touch and don’t easily warm up. And they’re perfect to perch your upper leg on when sleeping on your side, so thighs may never meet. They’re the goddamn bomb as a bed partner. They don’t move around. They don’t complain. And most importantly – they don’t snore. Not even once!

But Bertus has had a rough go at it.

Now. As this was a total impulse purchase (best 25 euros ever drunkenly spent) and as this was definitely NOT the fanciest pillow out there – I shan’t be too upset that this is what Bertus currently looks like after intensive use.

I suppose I can’t blame him for the fact that I (as proof would suggest) have iron-grip pillow-squishing thighs of doom that completely disintegrate pillow-contents (or at least force them to opposite ends of Bertus’ interior). Or that no matter how much Bertus is fluffed (god, this was not an intentional porn reference….until it was) he will not return to his once filled out form. Bertus, as it appears, is done for. Sort of. Because he remains ever huggable and comforting in a lonely bed, regardless of his thigh-separating inadequacy (which is easily solved by stuffing some more blanket in there).

Now. The solution should be easy. Is easy. But at the same time horrible.
Not because I have qualms discarding Bertus. He, like most men in my life, can be removed at any given point (-insert dramatically badly sung Beyonce – Irreplaceable cover here). Not because I’d have to research which type of pillow COULD resist my vice-like grip. Not because I’d have to withstand the delivery boy looking at me strangely for a second pillow within a year. But because to replace Bertus – I would have to actually go and find a NEW (and improved) pregnancy pillow.

do you know what happens when you search for pregnancy pillows just ONCE?
Your entire Facebook Feed. Your Instagram ads. Your Tinder pop-ups AND every ad on every miscellaneous other site ever anywhere will transform into mommy haven for the next three months. I’m not even kidding. Pillows. Cribs. Diapers and whatever else moms might be looking to acquire online – in every ad. Everywhere.

And I just can’t.
So Bertus stays. Because Bertus would ne’er do me like that. He just there. He awesome.

42 thoughts on “Pillow Problems

      1. Zoe, can I ask… are you British, or Dutch? I saw a commenter on your blog say that English is your second language… is that true? Because my assumption was that your English is so polished that you simply *must* be English and have moved to the land of windmills and Edam at some point. I know I might find the answer to this if/when I go back and read your blog from the start, but it’s quicker just to ask you!

        Liked by 1 person

  1. Poor Brutus. He needs to be retired. I totally get what you mean about internet ads. When I teach home buying to immigrants in my classes I spend the next month looking at realtor ads. (groan) Well written and fun.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. That was fun and funny…
    and I had no idea that these things were a thing.
    I’t tried weird bits of pillow archtitecture (is THAT a thing?) When I can’t get to sledp and both legs won’t play nice together…
    and I had a friend whose leg cramps (the result of an ongoing chronic condition) effectively welded her legs together when they struck.
    I think this post might have triggered an avalanche of Bertus stories.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. No shame in naming the pillow at all. *cough I do the sameπŸ˜‚
    I had a horrible time at the last trimester of my pregnancy, I was made aware of the pillow after giving birth because as you said ads for moms. I often search stuff like breastfeeding pillow and baby weight and all other baby things are everywhere πŸ˜…

    Liked by 1 person

  4. “no matter how much Bertus is fluffed” I completely lost it at this. That’s comedy gold you’ve struck there. As a side sleeper, I felt a lot of this on a personal level. My knees are so bony that I bruise my own legs if I sleep the wrong way.
    And now here I am considering purchasing my own Bertus (perhaps he has a nice cousin Bertha?) and advertising algorithms be damned. Great writing!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I’ve broad shoulders like a swimmer and a brain damaged leg. And I’m a side sleeper. Recipe for disaster and disaster it is. Do you get rivulets of sweat running down your neck because of the all-seasons duvet? Nightly weirdness! This piece of writing is brilliant and really made me smile: much needed ⚘

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hahaha…ehhh…
      No I generally don’t sweat too much at all…or get sticky. Otherwise I’d probably swim outta there with all that heat πŸ€ͺ🀣

      Glad to bring you a laugh!


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