Married, but Sleeping Alone

Co-sleeping is better for your sex life. “I talked to plenty of men (and women) who think that sexual intercourse is far more frequent if they have access to their partner,” Dr. Rosenblatt said. “If you want it, share a bed.”
Co-sleeping is better for your security. Women, in particular, feel safer from intruders when sleeping with another person.

In the end, the best way to enhance co-sleeping may be to emphasize mattress manners. Here are four steps to restoring honor and dignity to the American bed.

1. Make it. It takes less than a minute; it makes you feel good all day; it’s the opening note for a good night’s sleep.

2. Declutter it. Feng shui masters say that adjusting the environs around a bed can bring couples closer. Time to admit you’re not going to read those books gathering dust on your night stand or order things from those catalogs from before the recession. To improve harmony, Steven Post, a feng shui consultant in San Francisco, recommends wrapping the legs of your bed in red (the color of romance and prosperity) or draping a red cloth over the line that separates the two box springs under a king mattress.

3. Sanctify it. Sleep specialists say that those who pray before they go to bed are more likely to get a good night’s sleep. Dr. Kryger says any ritual will do, including meditating, reading a poem or keeping a journal.

4. Choreograph it. Dr. Rosenblatt found that most couples sleep best when they face away from each other, the better to avoid flexing knees and “that little gush of bad breath.” Map out a strategy, he said, and adjust it frequently. “Sleeping together is an achievement.”

For years, I fell short of that achievement. I was a poor sleeper, while my wife was a pro. Then I got cancer and spent nine months in bed. I feared my wife would be relegated to the sofa, but she stayed by my side, and her presence, occasional touch and peaceful breathing brought comfort to many long nights. Maybe it was the act of confronting my worst fears, but by the end of that year, I was cured of my restlessness. As my Cold War-era grandparents might have appreciated, forced to come face-to-face with my nightmares, I learned to stop worrying and love my bed.