These days I’m finding it unusually hard to get out of bed. It’s not the time change, hateful and inhumane though it is. And it’s not that I spend each sleeping minute lumped upon by three dead-weight felines, whose combined corpulence equals thirty-six pounds of purring, furry, gelatinous cat. No. It’s the fact that our new mattress pad begins each night with about as much give as a slab of concrete, but by morning it has the structural integrity of warm marshmallow.
Here’s a tip: Do not buy a mattress that tries, night after night, to eat you.
Once upon a time, investing in a Memory Foam mattress topper seemed like a sensible plan. Long before we met, my husband — who had taken to sleeping on the floor of his college dorm room — finally broke down and purchased a bed. Since habit dictated that even carpeting was too soft for sleep, he asked for the firmest mattress they had. Unfortunately, they delivered. He was thrilled. Plywood would have been softer, and asphalt more forgiving. Life was perfect.
As it turned out, when I married my husband his bed came with him. While I immediately abhorred the thing, hubs’s turnaround came more slowly. Recently, after years of tingling fingers, aching shoulders, and dead arms, I made an executive decision: It was time for a new mattress.
Here’s another tip: Executive decisions should only be made after a full night of sleep.
To our surprise, mattresses, while they seem simple, cost as much as both our cars put together, but without the handy test drive to make sure everything feels okay. Time for a new plan. And so, several weeks later, a thick, gray, queen-sized expanse of foam came into our lives. Filled with enthusiasm, we tore open the box, poured it out, and ripped off the plastic bag in which it came. Then we stood back as it slowly unfurled itself, like a prehistoric beast stretching after a long winter’s sleep. We watched it rapturously. Soon life would be perfect, our dreams delightful and uninterrupted, our nights unmarred by discomfort.
The cats were more skeptical, sniffing the air around it with great distrust, jumping away when we nudged it, and daring one another to cross its dimpled expanse. Dropping them in the center sparked duck-and-cover maneuvering as they tried to escape this brand new enemy.
Final tip: Sometimes cats have a good point.
Bubbling with anticipation, we ignored their fears. Instead, we tossed it into place on top of the old mattress, fitted the sheets over it, and waited for night to fall. To our horror ((mine more than my husband’s)), though, when bedtime hit we quickly discovered that our revolutionary new Memory Foam mattress topper morphs into a four-inch-thick brick in the cold evening air. We didn’t so much crawl into bed as on top of it. The pad hesitated ((which led my husband to quip, “Foam has slow memory. Needs more RAM” in a stilted, computer-esque voice.)) and then, with an almost audible sigh, it slowly began to give under our weight and warmth. Fighting back giggles, we watched each other sink until our bodies had formed deep, steep-sided troughs from which we then fought to free ourselves each time we rolled over, reached for our bedside glasses of water, or flailed for the snooze button. In the morning we excavated ourselves with effort, as the sleep-softened foam beneath us sucked at our tired bodies and the untouched, cold foam beside and between us formed impossible, unyielding walls. Once we had escaped, a glance back at the bed showed the outlines of our sleeping positions, as crisply formed as chalk lines around a murder victim.
It has been thus for weeks now. While we are gradually growing accustomed to this new arrangement and the mild spring days make for softer nights, well, it’s still no wonder I was late to work today: My mattress tried to have me for breakfast.
Hilarious! We once had a very similar experience with an unfurling futon mattress. It arrived all vacuumed packed and small and we thought it was perfect for our NYC apartment. Then we cut away the plastic….soon the mattress took up most of the precious (very expensive) square-footage of our apartment!
Memory foam has always seemed kind of freaky to me.
A couple of years ago my wife and I bought a natural latex bed, split down the middle, so each side is adjustable. My wife prefers a slightly firmer mattress, and I like a softer feel, so it works well for us. We love it.
@Writtenwyrdd – Makes me wonder if we got the same type of mattress after all. Certainly they were different brands, at the very least. Actually, I’ve wondered if all the people who gave this one great reviews actually go the same mattress! Maybe it’s a quality control issue.
@Alyson – I have one, too, and it’s not bad, though it does get a little soft at night sometimes and I have to keep wadding it up underneath my head in order to get enough lift.
@Joanne – Wow! That must have been a surprise. I think these things always seem smaller in the store than they do once we get them home. Christmas trees? Same deal.
@Wil – That sounds rather nice. I’m glad you’re happy with it. Maybe we’ll have to look into it when we finally break down and buy a new bed.
LOL! I’ve always wanted the foam bed – the one with the wine and jumping person commercial. 🙂 Looks so comfy.
Well, here’s the question… stay puft marshmallow bed, or hubs old brick? You regret the decision?
I bought some sort of memory foam bed, but it’s much thicker and firmer than the usual ones. I don’t remember the brand off the top of my head, but it’s a real find. It does conform slightly, but doesn’t suck you in, yet it’s firm enough to make you feel like you actually have some support. Does yours have a trial period? Let me know and I’ll check my brand… maybe you can swap!
Ahah! Oh my. You know, I have a waterbed (70% waveless) and it is my preferred place to sleep. Unfortunately, we’ve been sleeping on a regular mattress since the heater went bad and we haven’t had a chance to drain it and put the new heater in. But when we do, it’s back to the waterbed!
Are you going to return it or just adjust? If you have a guest room, you could swap mattresses and have it as a running joke that any guests are stuck forever!
You had me right there, watching as the foam “slowly unfurled itself, like a prehistoric beast,” and I can well imagine the nightmarishness such a creature in your bed could create :-). Still, you are braver than I. I can barely handle the purchase of new pillows–although we desperately need a new mattress, too. The choices! The stress! Oh, my…
Haha, this is brilliant. I certianly hope your mattress relaxes a bit!
xox
@Keri – Exactly! We thought it would help minimize bed shake whenever one of us moves. I can’t say whether or not it does that, though I suppose it must help a bit. I certainly wouldn’t do the glass of wine/jumping on bed thing, though. But, hey, since when are commercials totally accurate, anyway?
@Kyle – LOL! Yes, it’s still better than my husband’s old bed, since I’m not waking up in pain every morning. It’s just hard at night and then difficult to emerge from every morning. Unfortunately, I don’t think we can trade this one in, though yours sounds much better.
@Erin – Your waterbed sounds nice. I didn’t know you could get waveless ones. As for returning it, I think it’s too late for that — plus we bought it online, so that would be a pain. Our guest room bed is a double bed, and it’s actually a pretty good mattress. I suppose we could cut it down for that bed, though, and then get something else for ourselves…
@Marilyn – You should have seen all the reviews I read! I agonized about it for ages. I’m such a picky sleeper, and I always have so much trouble falling asleep, so I was worried about getting just the right thing. So much for that, I suppose, though we are getting used to it.
@Heidikins – Thanks! It will be interesting to see what summer weather does to it.
Too funny, Caryn! I love the image of you watching each other slowly sink into the mattress. Like quicksand only less comfortable to sleep on! 😉