April 18, 2025
Taylor has seen 3am every night for the past week, and frankly, she's getting tired of it.
She always remembered her friends who had kids telling her about 'morning' sickness, that ended once you hit the magical 12 week mark. As she sits once again on the cold tile of her bathroom floor, she has a mind to tell them all right now that they're big fat liars. Her 'morning' sickness has never ended, following her through to now, 29 weeks in. It was also never just in the morning, normally rearing its head at any time between the lovely hours of 2am - 5am, leaving her feeling like a zombie most days, just about functioning on little-to-no sleep.
Along with the tiredness came the ache of sitting on the bathroom floor all night, the horrible taste in her mouth that never quite seemed to go away, and the rage. She wasn't proud of herself, but her pregnancy hormones seemed to amplify her anger at everyone and everything, especially if she'd had a particularly hard battle with the sickness during the night. It never lasted long but she always said something she regretted, mostly to Travis, and sometimes his good-natured way of taking what she had thrown at him did nothing to calm her down.
Tonight was one of those nights. It was now way past 4am, over an hour of puking done, and she washed up to return to bed, hoping sleep would quickly claim her. When she entered the bedroom to see Travis fast asleep, hand outstretched to her side of the bed, the irrational, hormonal anger returned. Had he not even noticed she was gone? Had he really just slept through all of that? He had been out the night before, drinking with his buddies. And now he was just... sleeping?
If she had taken a moment and looked at the situation rationally, she would have seen Travis' side of things - she was deliberately quiet all the time, trying not to wake him up; he was a notoriously heavy sleeper, requiring multiple alarms (and a push from Taylor) to get up in the morning; and his night out was his first without her in months, and he hadn't wanted to go, but she had insisted. But rational thinking was not her forte today.
She grumpily climbed back into bed, shoving Travis back over to his side and pulling the covers over her. Sleep, as she thought it wouldn't, doesn't arrive, and her mind travels to what their plans are for the weekend. It's Easter weekend, and they are travelling to Philly today, spending the long weekend with Jason and Kylie at their house. It's not the first time they've visited, but it will be the longest they've stayed, and Taylor was looking forward to some uninterrupted family time.
However, as the hours drag on and sleep still evades her, she starts to dread having to even get out of her bed to go, with so little energy and what she knows will be her grumpy demeanor. As Travis continues his slumber, she gives in to the insomnia, getting up and heading downstairs to make breakfast and have her one allowed cup of caffeinated coffee to try to combat her mood.
Travis appears downstairs around an hour later, finding her asleep on their couch, wrapped up in a blanket, wearing one of his training hoodies over her pyjamas. He has no idea how long she's been down there, but knows that if she's managed to come down here and fallen asleep again this early, he's probably in for a rocky morning and decides to let her sleep before they have to get ready to head to Philly.
It doesn't take long for Taylor to wake once Travis starts attempting to make them breakfast, and she appears in the doorway with furrowed eyebrows and a frown, hands crossed over her stomach, 'Must you make so much fucking noise all the time?'
Travis, oblivious to Taylor standing behind him, spins around from his position at the refrigerator, looking at his grumpy girlfriend. 'I'm sorry baby, I didn't mean to wake you. How long were you awake last night?'
'Long enough, but not long enough for you to notice, apparently', comes her response, taking a seat at the kitchen island and pointing towards the coffee in Travis' hand, silently asking for a sip.
