jessica mcfadden

It’s 3:30 a.m. Like clockwork, I am awake again. After tossing and turning through the night, I am inevitably forced out of bed and out of my comfortable position, either by intense hunger or by a tiny human pushing on my bladder. I not-so-nimbly get out of bed, trying not to wake my husband with the grunts and groans that come from my 8-months-pregnant body. I go to the bathroom or grab a quick snack, and then it’s back to bed. Only now, the pregnancy insomnia kicks in and my mind is awake.