In This Space Between: Adeline Marie

It's been such a long time since I've blogged I had to read my last post to see where I've left off. So much has changed!

In the almost 3 months since my last post, this little peanut:

has become this little princess:

And we couldn't be more smitten with her! It is only fitting that a daughter of mine, coming after four brothers, would be born with a mohawk (er, faux hawk).

Say what?!

Though, for the most part, the 'hawk has sadly grown out save for a brief while after her baths when it makes a quick appearance.

I've kept up fairly well with our life news on my Instagram and Facebook accounts, though family and friends who aren't on social media don't see those posts. (Sorry, Mom!) They also aren't quite the expressive outlet I need. There's something about clicking the keys of a keyboard or feeling the scratch of a pen across paper that's therapeutic. We finally got our computer fixed (again), making it much easier to type. Blogging on my new phone is not easy. And really, keys work so much better for me than swipe technology...except when I forget to capitalize words (because my phone does that for me automatically).

So, without further adieu, here is the much delayed story of Adeline Marie Berst's birth.

The morning of Thursday, April 27th came quickly. No, it really did. The more babies I've had, the faster their arrival seems to come at the end. There's just so much to get done. I never really had the nesting urge this time, so there was no helpful burst of energy at the end.

That morning Eli and I dropped four excited boys off at Grandpa and Grandma Mahoney's. They love staying there with all the animals (and baby chicks then!) and outside things to do....actually, they love being left just about anywhere but home. So that part went really well. It also helped that the sun was up. The c-section was scheduled for noon, so we didn't have to drag anyone out of bed before the robins this time. I remember saying goodbye to my Dad outside in the driveway (it was warm!) and I jokingly asked if it was too late to run.

I was able to keep pretty calm on the way to the hospital. We had about a 35-40 minute drive from my parents' house, so I talked. A lot. I made Eli agree to get me a Jimmy Johns #9 as soon as I could eat after baby's birth. I commented on houses we passed, and asked if he liked this or that; should we do that to our yard? We decided on all black screen doors for the house, whenever we get to that point of the house upgrades.

I started feeling really panicky as we pulled into the hospital parking lot. I kept praying, and focused on the patterns in the concrete, the smell of the parking garage, the weird feeling elevators always give me.

When the nurse sends you to get the gown on..."this could be the last picture taken on my phone" kind of face

It was better when we got into the hospital room. From that point on it's always better if things go as quickly as possible. With the last three c-sections there were very long periods of waiting for the doctor to arrive once the nurses had prepped me for surgery, making it extremely hard not to get nervous. (With Ian's the nurse lost the catheter and sat there digging through the trash for it.... "You don't plan on using it if you find it in there, do you?" It made me wonder.) This time there were two or three nurses in and out the entire time, so there was no silent waiting. I actually signed the procedure paperwork twice in their enthusiasm to get things done. And then they found I had signed everything the day before at my pre-admission interview. This was cruel and unusual punishment to someone suffering from carpal tunnel.

The last last belly picture

Every time a new nurse came in it was like a game of telephone between the nurses. "This is her fifth C! She has four boys at home and this is a girl!" My body must know what to do when I get in a hospital bed because I started having contractions about half an hour after they hooked up the belly band monitors. The main nurse was a very short, middle-aged lady who kept the atmosphere light by joking about her height. She kept having to adjust everything the taller nurses moved when they came in. The doctor ordered two IV's be put in, in case I needed a blood transfusion. So two nurses grabbed an arm and started poking. Only one vein broke, at least, and the nurse was so apologetic. During all this Eli was recording a helicopter on the pad outside the window powering up and taking off. When the doctor came in (who was pregnant herself) everything was ready, so she walked back to the OR right ahead of me.

The two worst parts for me are sitting on the edge of the gurney right before the anesthesiologist does the spinal, and the silence before baby's first cry. I can't breathe through either. There was a student anesthesiologist in the room, and more nurses than I could count. (I'm pretty sure the local TV station meteorologist's wife was one of them. I heard someone call her name.) The short nurse held my hand while the spinal was done. I hope I didn't squeeze too hard...she told me to squeeze as hard as I needed. After I was down another doctor came over and introduced herself as being from the University of Iowa hospital. She was there in case something went wrong. I was reassured that there was blood on hand in the room as a precaution. My platelets, tested that morning, had also stayed in a safe range above 100k.

There was a large chrome light above my head. It reminded me of a massive rain shower head...and later something out of an alien abduction movie. In it's reflection I could see the incision site. I watched the doctor draw with Sharpie where she was going to cut, and decided that was not at all the view I needed at the moment. I asked them to move the light.

From there on out it was a LONG wait for anything to happen. The doctor said there was a lot of scar tissue to go through. Something I had to commend the anesthesiologist on while laying there, is that I never once felt nauseous like I had in the past. That was such a relief.

Finally I heard the words I was waiting for: "I see baby!" then "You're going to feel a lot of pressure." That was worse than the other births. There seemed to be some difficulty getting baby out. There was a lot of grunting and struggling on the other side as the two doctors tried to get the baby topside. They knocked over the drape, which the anesthesiologist tried to set back up. And the pain...the pressure was immense. It felt literally like an elephant was sitting on me and I couldn't breathe...and then there would be a little reprieve, then no more air. And each time the pressure increased there was a horrible sharp pain in my right shoulder like someone was making a marionette out of me with my tendons, and all the muscles in that side of my neck would contract. That pain stayed with me for the next few weeks.

After what felt like an incredibly long time of struggle, I heard a sputtering choking sound, and silence. The doctor said "She is a girl!" and I waited. I still hadn't heard her cry. The baby catcher nurses rushed her over to a side station where I could see them working on her. I heard them saying, "Come on baby, there you go."

The nurses working on Adeline

I looked at Eli in a panic and he called over to them: "What's going on?" "She just needs a little help breathing," they said. A few minutes later my sweet baby girl started screaming. That was the best sound ever.

My short nurse came over and explained that when she was born, Adeline was nice and pink and healthy looking, she just had a hard time taking her first breath. They cleared out her throat and nose and gave her some oxygen for a few minutes, and now everything was just fine. They wrapped her up and gave her to Eli so I could see her. She was so beautiful! And she still is. She was 7 pounds 14 ounces and a petite 19 inches long.

Everything else went great for little Adeline. She was the best nurser I've ever had. After the first baby I learned to let the nurses keep the baby at night until baby needs to eat. This way I get as much sleep as possible before going home where multiple people need me, and where there is often only me to take care of them.

We had visitors the first day, hours after Addie was born. I'm sure I looked like death warmed over. I didn't even attempt to get out of bed until the next day. I felt like I had been used as a punching bag.

Perfect little feet, perfect little toes...

Perfect little body...

Perfect little nose.

We were discharged three days later. It was a Sunday, and Eli picked up the boys from my parents' early so they could make it to Mass. On the way home Eli stopped at a pharmacy so I could get my pain meds. It had been six hours since I had any, and I was in tough shape. I was sweating, shaking, light-headed, and in serious pain. In hind-sight I should've just asked Eli to go in for me, but I was silently irritated that he hadn't offered, and my pride was pacified by limping in myself. (I pray wisdom will come with age...it's a hard and rocky road for me.) I also should've called the doctor and requested a different pain medication when I continued to feel ill in between doses.

The pain medication I was given was a kind I had never had before, and besides making me feel horrible, I believe it ultimately affected my milk supply. I quit taking it a week after Adeline was born, but the damage had already been done. Addie did not gain weight the first couple weeks. I began taking fenugreek pills and drinking tons of water, but hearing her frustrated cries after two-hour long nursing sessions all day and night was taking it's toll on me. The doctor advised supplementing with formula to get her to start gaining. I gave her the first bottle at 10:00 at night. She slept until 5:30 the next morning! The poor thing had finally gotten full for the first time in her life. She was like a whole new baby getting just a bottle, sometimes two a day. I still give her bottles, but only when she doesn't seem satisfied after nursing for a long time, or when we're in inconvenient places to nurse.

Overall, this recovery was the hardest of the five. I've had the least amount of time to sleep, probably in the worst shape I've ever been in, and had just about the hardest bout of baby blues with this one. It was nearly as bad as the depression I had after Aidan. I was buffeted by feelings of inadequacy, guilt that I was not doing good enough for anyone because I was stretched so thin, and felt so incredibly alone. The only way I can describe myself in the first few weeks after giving birth is a fragile, emotional wreck. I felt helpless and overwhelmed, but wouldn't ask for help because I couldn't bring myself to do that to someone (even if they didn't mind). I was terrified that something would happen to my precious baby, and exhausted by that constant worry. I was resentful of every fun, free thing my husband got to do while I was stuck in a cloud of misery.

If it wasn't for the generosity of family and friends, we would have lived off of hot dogs and peanut butter sandwiches for a month. I can't thank those enough who brought over food or sent gift cards for food, the time spent just talking with me, and the countless prayers I'm sure were prayed for us. It was what I needed when I was seriously struggling.

Today little Miss Addie turned 3 months old! It wasn't long after she was born that we all started calling her Addie. She is such a sweetheart, and is my little talker. She sits there and coos and coos and gurgles at anyone who will take the time to talk to her. I make a face at her and she smiles and has started to laugh. She is the most ticklish baby we've had. She's also going through a stage where Daddy scares her. She may be one of those babies who's afraid of men. She doesn't mind tummy time like her brothers did (Ian screamed after 15 seconds of it), and appears to be working on growing teeth already.

And the fun of dressing her up! She has more clothes and shoes than I do now. The game closet is being taken over by her dresses. 😊

Since I have three months of catching up to do, here is an overload of pictures of our baby girl. I try to get a picture of her in every cute outfit she has before she grows out of them. My poor phone, no wonder why it's freezing up on me.

The hospital days

I totally forgot how bad my feet swelled! Yikes.

Going home outfit!

Oh my goodness she was tiny!

chicken legs!

This takes me back to the hours and hours I spent in the recliner nursing her. When she'd fall asleep I was terrified to move, for fear of waking her.

"She has such cute little tootsies, right Mom?"

Diaper changing time.

Baby Francis and Adeline are four months apart! Being outside and good friends and family got me through the first couple weeks

This is how I got my showers in: she came in the bathroom with me. The sound of the shower would put her to sleep.

Poor baby girl! She was barely bigger than daddy's slipper

Aidan was wheeling her around the kitchen in her bassinet yelling "Make way for the Addie-mobile!" so that I could make lunch. 💗

And then we tried to get a good sibling shot for the birth announcements.

I'm here to tell you all who are dying to know what it's like having five kids:

It's like herding cats.

But cats you dearly love

And would be completely lost if you didn't have them.

Yeah, I'm talking about you, Bub.

They're standing on Addie's bedspread, by the way. Great idea, Mom.

To have a child is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.

A lady and her guard dog

My mother's day gift...birthstones of all my little peas.

May 14 Adeline Marie was baptized by Father Kenneth Dean at St. Philomena Mission. For her godparents we chose our friend Jordan, coordinator for our mission (and husband to Liam's godmother), and friend Carolyn. Her name, Adeline Marie, was Eli's paternal grandmother's. She passed away at the young age of 43 from cancer. Eli's Dad was only 10 years old. As I explained before, we chose the name because our original girl name, Madeleine Jo, had run it's course in our minds, and we wanted to use a family name. Adeline was so close to Madeleine and is a beautiful older name that we had never heard used anymore. Adeline has as a patron saint Blessed Adeline, niece of St. Bernard of Clarivaux, and the Blessed Virgin Mary. She also shares my middle name. (Although as a child I firmly resolved that "all my daughters" would have more exciting names than "Marie". I had the Anne Shirley complex and thought the least my parents could've done was name me Julia Maria...especially since the grandma I was named after had "Julia" as her middle name!) (I have to add here that my eccentric child-self had a doll named "Ramonica". By high school my imagined daughters had names like Scholastica, Gemma Rose, and Cecelia Benedicta.)

Addie wore the same baptismal gown her brothers did. Their initials and the dates they became children of God, are embroidered on the gown's bib, which is starting to yellow from the holy oil it's encountered over the last 10 years. My oldest and youngest child were both born in April, 10 years apart.