something's rotten in the state of rhode island

The other night, I was enjoying my sleep (after tossing and turning for hours) when my husband's alarm went off. I woke up, smacked him (as I do every morning), and rolled over to look at the clock.

4:30. Apparently Hubby had not reset his alarm after going in early the previous day. I told him this (in what I assure you were loving, dulcet tones) and he fixed the alarm and immediately (being the non-pregnant one he is) fell back to sleep.

I, on the other hand, was wide awake.

And I realized right away that The Smell was still there. Now, I had noticed The Smell the previous day, and while it wasn't necessarily a bad smell (it was sort of a red pepper hummus thing), it was precisely the worst possible smell to my pregnant stomach at that time.

I rolled over and tried to fall asleep, but it was no good. The Smell was there and it was haunting me, gagging me. There was clearly no way I'd find peace while The Smell lingered.

I heaved myself out of the bed and opened the window. Immediately, I was surrounded by the sounds of birds. Lots and lots of birds. It was like I was living on a bird sanctuary or in the rain forest, or... well somewhere with a lot of birds instead of my suburban residential neighborhood. I tried getting back in bed, but now I had The Smell of the Mystery Hummus AND the call of 5 million birds. At 4:45 in the morning. I, being the peace-loving, hippie pacifist that I am, lay awake wondering where all the hunters were when you actually need them, and trying to figure out what in the name of god that awful smell could be.

Finally, when I could take no more, I got back out of bed and shut the window. (At least I could do something about that part of the problem.) Without the fresh air, of course, The Smell got worse.

At this point, I was more annoyed than anything. I mean, I was lying there, tormented by a horrid odor, and all Hubby could do was sleep? Hello?! I'm pregnant with your child, man. The least you can do is help me out a bit!

As I lay there, frustrated and angry, tormented by The Smell, unable to open the windows, the perfect solution came to me.

I got up, walked to the bathroom closet, got a bar of Irish Spring soap and climbed back into bed, where I propped the soap up under my nose and (while I didn't actually fall back asleep) blissfully ignored The Smell that had been haunting me.

The Smell that has been there for three days now [even though I cleaned out the fridge (twice), emptied and scrubbed the sink and took out the trash].

The Smell that is still turning my stomach as I type.

The Smell that no one else can smell.


Can pregnancy actually drive you insane?