Sleep Apnea

You know what stinks?  Sleep apnea.

It's when your airways collapse on themselves in your sleep, and for a little while, you can't breath.  Then you surface from your sleep, shift around, and breath resumes.

Often people who have sleep apnea don't have the faintest idea.  They go to sleep, wake in the morning remembering nothing of fitful rest, and think, "Gee wiz, that was a long, solid 10 hours of sleep.  I wonder why I still feel exhausted?"

It often takes a partner to notice the problem.  And Hub did.

I used to snore more, before I got my nose job.  My airways were so out of whack that I was barely breathing through my nose at all when I went in for my surgery.  Now the nose is clear and it's my throat that seems determined to collapse on itself. Hub says it isn't so much that I snore (though I do snore), it's more that I just stop breathing at night. 

For a few weeks, the problem got so bad that I would stop breathing every single time I fell asleep, almost immediately.  Drift off, choke, sputter awake.  Drift off, choke, sputter awake.  Drift off, choke, sputter awake. On and on into the night it went.

I'd fall asleep almost anywhere.  Fortunately not behind the wheel, but I don't drive much.  I napped even though Elsie didn't (she just jumped up and down in her crib for rest-time).  I nodded off reading, knitting, and even, a couple times, in the middle of quiet conversations.  I drifted off on a park bench with lots of people around and Elsie playing on the jungle gym.

It's not just a nuisance and an embarrassment, sleep apnea causes all sorts of severe problems like heart attacks and early death.  True to my usual paranoia, I went looking on pubmed and found a review of apnea in pregnant women that suggests sleep apnea causes low birth-weight babies and potentially other problems, too.  Internet forums were even worse (as they are!), with women who had experienced stillbirth reporting, "I just know it's because I had such severe sleep apnea."  I kept thinking, "If I feel this rotten, what's it doing to the baby?"  I worried that I'd be too exhausted from months of sleeplessness to have the natural birth I want, then to survive the first few months of exhaustion with a new baby.

Finally, I called my doctor about it, and he referred me to a neurologist.  Both doctors agreed that I have sleep apnea, that it's pregnancy-related, and that, as long as I keep my weight nice and low and healthy, I should sleep again once this baby is out.  PCP was worried about the fetus.  Neurologist seemed less concerned.  An official diagnosis requires a sleep study, and insurance companies are really cracking down on that type of expense these days.  Even with a diagnosis, the treatment isn't very pleasant.  You have to wear a mask that forces air through your passages at night.  As awful as that sounds, it has got to be better than being smothered in your sleep all throughout the night.  Isn't sleep deprivation a form of torture?  I'd be willing to try that ghastly mask if it meant deep sleep.

I was not given the opportunity.  The neurologist gave me the single worst advice I've ever gotten from a doctor:

"Maybe it's your restless leg"  (I do not have restless leg syndrome!  I am not even fidgety.) "Sleep on your side," (After I repeatedly told him that I do sleep on my side with the help of a bed wedge) "And drink more coffee to stay awake during the day." 

Drink more coffee.  I hate coffee.  And since when is pregnancy the time to develop a heavy caffeine dependence?  I am all for reducing health costs, but coffee?  Coffee as a cure for the walking dead!  Someone tell the zombies!

Fortunately, symptoms are somewhat less bad than they were.  I'm no longer losing consciousness on park benches.  I slept great on my Florida vacation, a little less great now.  Perhaps it's allergy related.  Or perhaps I really did need to be officially told by a specialist, suck it up, Kate.

In any case, I no longer feel like death.  Let's hope I can at least piece together enough to feel well-rested before this baby is out.  Plenty of time for sleepless nights after that.

Fair warning, if you comment "Your body is just preparing you for when the new baby comes and you really can't sleep, ha ha!" I might just punch you in the face.  Being tired makes me cranky like that.  Sleep deprivation as preparation for an infant is like a freaking fad diet in preparation for a famine.