Orchestrated sleep (and sitting)

Doesn't this Mum-to-be look lovely and comfy. Well it's a lie. Sorry, I didn't mean to get all grumpy on myself there, but seriously, no pregnant women sleeps with a smile on her face, even if she's propped up with every pillow known to man.
Pillows are my new best friend. Well actually, all types of bedding are my old best friend, as I love a perfectly plump bed. But now I'm (kind of) over the crisp sheets and the fluffy duvet, because all I care about is the pillow wedged around the bump.
This is the thing about pregnancy. It's totally wonderful (more of which later) and as long as things are progressing normally, you feel good, and happy and relaxed. That is until you need to sleep. Or sit at a desk for 8 hours. Because the pillow works when it's just you, the Super King size bed and DH, but at work, in front of the computer, the pillow would look, well a bit too namby pamby. So I sit here, feet flat on the ground (I am weening myself off crossed legs), waiting for the back to start aching. I feel like I'm on some kind of new strict lifestyle regime where I can't sit the way I want to, or sleep the way I want to, or even waste time the way I'm used to. Because now, free time means KEGELS. Yes, I'm trying to do them three times a day. I'm obviously failing, but time on the tube when I used to play iPhone Scrabble, or read a book, is now consumed with the squeezing and releasing of, well, you know, that muscle down there. Extremely glamourous it is not, but I'm hoping that these exercises will mean no incontinence post-birth. Seriously, people tell you NOTHING about pregnancy before you get yourself up the duff.
On the plus side (yes, there is a plus side), the darling little Pullen Bear is kicking up a storm, literally, in my tummy all the time these days. There are so many movements that I actually yelped a bit last night while I lay - propped up - on the couch not watching television.
Compeletely unrelated to us becoming parents in 4 months, we are trying to ween ourselves off the television (another imposition on my old life). It sounds terrible, but actually, you find you have so many more hours in the evening to chat, cook, beat DH at backgammon and do those annoying chores that make you break out in a sweat (him, not me) but leave you feeling faintly satisfied.
We are becoming new people already, and we're liking it, we think.