One day, I'm going to wake up to a hand that must be amputated.

Lately, I've been sleeping on my stomach a lot. Which is peculiar, because until my last son was born two years ago, I was never a tummy sleeper. I always slept on a side. Never my back, I don't think I'll ever be one of those people. I think I began laying on my stomach after the birth of Hayden because it was something that I didn't realize could be so glorious until I couldn't do it...when you've got a belly out to here, it's simply impossible.

I've found that recently, the only way I can fall asleep is if I begin the process of falling asleep on my belly. But not only that, I must cross my arms underneath me like an imperial mummy. This obviously creates a big problem: my hands fall asleep. This hasn't always happened, it's just been over the past couple months.

When I first woke up with a hand that was a few minutes away from being dead, I literally panicked. My first thought was to go to the hospital. Seriously. I couldn't feel my hand. I didn't even have the tingling sensation. I couldn't move it. I was hitting my hand on my leg, the couch, trying to wiggle my fingers...anything I could do to wake it up. Of course, I was finally able to, but it was quite a scare. It happened again a few nights later. And honestly, it didn't even occur to me right away that the reason this was happening was because I was sleeping on my hands. I thought I had some sort of circulation problem. Yea, I have my moments.

I still fall asleep the same way every night, even with the knowledge that I'm smothering my hands. I'm slightly concerned that one morning, I might wake up and be unable to rouse a hand. It will have passed on, ultimately poisoning the rest of my body if I don't have it removed. I guess I'll just need to practice typing with one hand until then. I'll be ready.