I Am 8 Months Pregnant and My Husband’s Night Eating Is Constantly Leaving Me Hungry | February 10, 2025

Hey everyone, just here sharing a bit of my life as I’m 8 months pregnant and super excited about our little one coming soon. But, I’ve got this kind of weird situation at home making things tougher than expected. My biggest challenge isn’t the usual pregnancy stuff, but my husband, Mark, and his relentless nighttime eating.

Every night, after midnight, Mark goes on his kitchen raids. It wouldn’t be such a big deal if it didn’t hit me so hard. He literally eats everything—meals I prepped for the next day, my lunch leftovers, you name it. When you’re 8 months pregnant and wake up to find no food, then have to either cook again or run to the store, it’s just exhausting.

We’ve talked about this so many times, but he just laughs it off and suggests I should simply make more or stash away some special snacks for myself. It feels like he’s not taking any of this seriously, just treating it as a quirky thing he does.

So, last Thursday night really showed me how bad it’s gotten. I spent the afternoon cooking up a big batch of my favorite chili, thinking it would last a few days and was even considerate enough to make extra for Mark.

But come 1 AM, there I am, woken up by pots banging. I find Mark in the kitchen, helping himself to nearly all the chili. “Babe, I was just so hungry, and it smelled so good,” he tried to explain, clueless about the effort I put into making it last. “I made that chili so we could have meals ready for the week. We can’t keep doing this. I’m totally out of energy, and it’s really not fair,” I told him.

His solution? “Why don’t we just make more tomorrow?” I was too tired to argue and just went back to bed, but I knew something had to change. I couldn’t keep up like this, not this far into my pregnancy.

Things just kept going the same way. Mornings where I’d find my meals and snacks gone were becoming the norm. It was draining, and after one morning of finding out he’d eaten the lasagna I’d planned for lunch, I hit my breaking point.

Sitting on the kitchen floor, surrounded by grocery bags because I was too worn out to put them away, I called my sister. I was in tears, telling her how Mark’s eating habits were leaving me hungry and messing up my sleep every night.

She said, “You need to chat with his mom or something. This is way bigger than just annoying—it’s messing with your health.” That was my wake-up call. If anyone could get through to Mark, it would be his mom.

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