Chapter 26. Phase and Flow

"Time's up," Mark gives a short knock on the door and steps into Kate's room. More accurately, he steps into a world of throbbing headaches on nights like this. The bedroom light is dimmed and a white noise machine on top of the bookcase hums steadily. The smart speaker ran out of charge a few minutes ago while running through an instrumental playlist they really need to modify, petering out somewhere near the end of Brahms' Lullaby. Addison blinks up at Mark, relief and fatigue displayed in her eyes.

"Oh, thank God," Addison says from the rocking chair, then cringes, feeling a rush of guilt. She tips her head to the side to nuzzle her nose against her daughter's temple. Her crying-at-the-top-of-her-lungs-for-forty-minutes-now daughter. "Sorry, little one. Mommy loves you more than anything. But it's Mommy's turn for a break."

The first few days of parenthood were exhausting in their own unique way (days seemed like nights and nights seemed like days and eventually it all just bled together), but weeks two and three have brought forth new challenges. They have settled into a routine of sorts, but for at least half the evenings over the past week Kate has been colicky, which has left her utterly inconsolable; despite their best efforts, there isn't much they can do other than continue to try to soothe her in every way they have heard or read might help.

It has gotten easier to accept that this is just something that happens, and isn't a reflection of their parenting, but watching their daughter's face redden and eyebrows furrow while she releases ear-splitting wails – much louder than her "normal" cries – and the way she waves her clenched fists as though to express displeasure is really sad to see. If nothing else, they know colic tends to go away on its own, but it definitely doesn't feel that way when you're near-delirious from lack of sleep and your baby's screams are about to blow your eardrums apart.

After a few tense I'm-not-mad-at-you-but-I'm-going-to-act-mad-at-you-anyway interactions between Mark and Addison while they passed a fussy Kate back-and-forth, they have worked out a system to ensure they each get to maintain some degree of sanity while a meltdown is going on. The parent on Kate Duty stays in Kate's room with her, and the other parent utilizes their coping mechanism of choice for a period of twenty minutes before the roles switch. Mark prefers to rest his head on the kitchen table, while Addison's form of self-care is to sit down in the walk-in closet with a spoon and a jar of peanut butter.

"Anything new?" Mark asks, making his way over to them and raising his voice to be heard over Kate's crying. He grabs a fresh burp cloth off the changing pad, throws it over his shoulder, and watches as Addison shakes her head, continuing to rock. She rubs a hand over Kate's fuzzy hair.

"A little spit-up a few minutes ago," she tells him. "Other than that…I've mostly had her against my shoulder…she likes the rocking. Oh, and I sang 'Wildflowers' and 'All I Have to Do Is Dream,' several times in a row. I wouldn't say it made things better, but I didn't feel like it made things worse, and it was nice to hear something other than crying and white noise. I swear those are the only two songs in the history of the world that I know right now. Her colic has robbed me of brain cells. So has sleep deprivation. I can't think anymore."

"Hey, Katiebee," Mark murmurs, lifting her off her mother. "And you," he says to Addison when she slowly pushes to her feet. "You go get your peanut butter and relax for a bit. I'll come get you when I need a breather."

"Thank you. Hey, did we…" Addison frowns, lost in thought for a moment. Thinking continues to be difficult. There is no thinking. "Did we eat dinner?"

"I…I have no idea. I'm guessing no?"

They both laugh at this – they have to laugh – because otherwise there would be a lot more frustration and tears, especially from Addison. She is doing well and is in a good head space, but postpartum hormone drops are a special kind of hell, she's still sore, and while breastfeeding is working and for that she's grateful, it hasn't been particularly easy to adjust to and she still dreads feedings at least half the time.

"I'll order something," Addison says. "What do you want?"

"Silence, mostly."

She returns Mark's weak smile with a matching one. "Same. Along with not having sore nipples and not having torn and not having to use a squirt bottle. But I guess we can't always get what we want, right? Oh, wait – I know three songs. That's something. Well, Mark…" Addison inhales deeply as he gets settled in the rocking chair, Kate hiccuping into his neck. "May the odds be ever in your favor. I'm going to go scream into a pillow and then I'll order us some food."

-

Addison eases on to the chaise section of the sofa, feeling her eyes grow heavy as she stretches her legs out. She can no longer tell if she is actually hearing Kate crying or just thinks she is. This part, the crying baby part, is difficult and emotional and it really, really sucks, but even when they are drowning in it, she is still able to think about everything good. Kate is more alert now. She can turn her head slightly to follow voices, and seems fascinated when her parents talk to her. Her silky hair, the same shade Addison's was as a baby, sometimes pokes up at funny angles. Her eyes are open more now – Mark's eyes, Addison thinks – and are constantly taking in her surroundings. She does okay with "tummy time" on her play mat. She appears relatively interested when Mark waves her stuffed elephant or a knitted rattle near her, and incredibly interested when they show her picture books. She makes the cutest little gurgling and cooing sounds. They have started to take walks around the neighborhood, utilizing either the stroller or sling, and they can tell Kate loves being outside. And she wiggles happily during bath time, flexing her arms and legs when water is poured over her round belly.

Addison falls asleep reminding herself of All The Good Things. The next thing she is aware of is that the sofa is sinking beside her, and a strong arm is wrapping around her shoulders. She opens her eyes to see Mark offering her a small smile.

"She's asleep?" She suspects Mark stayed with Kate longer than twenty minutes, but she feels grateful rather than guilty, because sleep is amazing, and because things like getting Kate to go down are huge parenting confidence boosts for him.

"She is," Mark tugs a throw blanket over them and presses a slow, lazy kiss to her lips. "Either I did something right, or she just finally cried it all out."

"Probably a combination of both. Good job. The colic will get better eventually. And at least we're not…" Addison is too lazy to lean all the way forward to tap her knuckles on the coffee table, so she raises a fist to knock invisible wood instead. "At least we're not dealing with it every night."

"True. It's nice to know we haven't broken her."

"Nope. It's just that she's attempting to break us. Also, I think we're having cereal for dinner. I fell asleep before I could figure out what to order."

"Fine with me. Hey, when I was singing 'Rock the Casbah' to Kate, she was making those funny gurgling sounds she does, and just…I know it was just gurgling, and that it had to be my sleep-deprived brain playing tricks on me, but it really did sound like she was giggling."

"Who could blame her? It's kind of a stupid song." Addison strokes her chin thoughtfully. "Remember when it was just the two of us and there was sleeping? I love her so much my heart could explode and I already miss her even though she's just one room away, but holy shit am I tired. And sometimes…obviously I love her every minute of every day, but when she's like this, I love her most when she is sleeping."

"Same. Addison, is it weird for you that I'm no longer the person in this family most likely to drive you crazy? I'm not number one anymore."

"Honey, it's sweet that you think that, but it's just not true. I haven't forgotten about yesterday, you know."

"The cabbage," he says, assuming that is what Addison is referring to. It was at the top of her grocery list, because apparently (Mark does not understand why, and knows he would be yelled at for asking questions about it) cold cabbage leaves can reduce inflammation caused from breastfeeding.

"Yes. Because what did you say to me when you saw me, well, wearing the cabbage?"

"That that look leaves nothing to the imagination," he smirks. "And I stand by what I said."

"Which is why you're still number one."

-

"I think you're missing someone," Mark teases Addison a few days later when she returns to the living room with empty arms. They have a spare bassinet set up in the living room now, and the sofa has basically become their second bed. The floor might as well be lava, given how little they get off the sofa these days.

"She's in the microwave."

"Start button is at the bottom," he quips back. "Or try the popcorn setting."

Addison grins. "She went down pretty easy, so I figured I'd put her in the crib for the afternoon. She'll probably be up around four or four-fifteen. I was thinking that in the meantime we could…" her cheeks flush. "We could fool around? I just…I can't even remember the last time we kissed with tongue. And I showered today. And I brushed my hair and teeth. And these are pajamas, yes, but they're clean pajamas. And I'm wearing a regular bra, not a cabbage one. Well, not a regular bra, but -"

"Addison," he laughs and holds his arms out for her to join him. "Stop giving me a play-by-play and get over here so I can fool around with you."

"There are some rules for this though," she says, giggling when he smoothly pulls her down into his lap. She tosses her hair a little, flirting.

"Good, because you know how much rules turn me on. Almost as much as when you play with your hair like that," he teases, leaving a string of kisses along her jawbone and curling his arms around her waist. She laughs again when he tugs her closer.

"Wait," Addison places her hands on his shoulders, flexing her fingers to get his attention. "Just kissing, Mark. Well, you can do what you want with your hands, I guess, provided they're nowhere near my boobs or crotch. I'm not 'there' yet. Also, I'm not cleared for sex yet, just so you're aware."

"I didn't just assume we were having sex right now, you know. But, uh, just for my own knowledge…how much longer until you're cleared?"

"My appointment with Maggie is in two weeks. Hang in there."

"I can hang in there," he mumbles against her mouth. "You're worth it."

"You bet your ass I am," she grins, parting his lips with her tongue.

-

"Not that I'm complaining…but what was that about?" Mark brushes his lips to the crown of her head and traces his hand over her hip, fingers warm as they continue to slink under her notch collar top. They're lying down now, wrapped in each other's arms and breathing in a way that indicates they're a bit out of practice. Kate, by some miracle, is still sleeping. "Again, not complaining. It's just…been a while, and I wasn't expecting my really hot girlfriend to be squirming around in my lap while we were going at it like teenagers."

"I don't know," she answers, drawing her hands near her mouth. If they leave the apartment tomorrow, she's definitely going to need to wear a turtleneck or do something to cover up the reddish mark blooming on her neck. His assessment that they were going at it like teenagers is accurate.

"You don't know or you're from Connecticut?"

"It's not the Connecticut thing," Addison giggles. "I don't know, really. I just…I feel good today. I'm less sore at the moment. Latching hasn't been an issue lately. The sun felt nice when we were walking through Central Park with her this morning. And I was able to take a long shower and I had four uninterrupted hours of sleep last night."

"Addison." His hand rubs over her stomach, but he brings it back to her hipbone when he feels her tense a bit. "You know I'm still interested, right?"

A smile plays at her lips when Mark says this. "I could definitely tell you were interested."

"Well, it's a little unfair to sit between my legs and move your hips around like that and make all sorts of breathy noises and expect me not to have some sort of reaction, but I just meant that…I'm still interested in you. Even on the days where you don't shower or brush your hair – not that I'm consistent about those things either anymore. I've kinda been letting you take the lead on the physical stuff, but…it's not like I don't think about it. You're still beautiful, Addie. Before, during, and after having a baby. That hasn't changed. Okay?"

"Okay. Thank you, Mark," she whispers, fiddling with the elastic waist of her maternity lounge pants. She knows he thinks she still looks good, that he's still interested, and the way he was all over her earlier (after she initiated it, at least) is confirmation enough, but adjusting to this "new normal" - since realistically there isn't a "going back to normal" after giving birth - is still an adjustment. And not an easy one. Savvy used to tell her that she had the metabolism of a marathon runner without doing the actual marathons. Now it is different. There's swelling, soreness. There is a looseness and sagginess to her skin that wasn't there before. There are stretch marks, pink ladder rungs on her hips, and darker, longer ones spread over her stomach. And there's leakiness. A shocking amount of leakiness. And she thinks she still looks pregnant, maybe 20 weeks or so. Her abdominal muscles feel weak. And while stronger, not thinner should always be the goal in navigating a post-delivery world and she would tell that to any postpartum patient expressing insecurities about her body, it's still an adjustment. She also recognizes that she grew up in a world (the non-hands part of the Connecticut thing) where she was supposed to be and act and look a certain way – and that doesn't necessarily go away just because you're a grownup. And she reminds herself that for the last two years of her marriage, her husband hardly ever touched her, which often left her to wonder if it was something about her that was causing the space between them. That's something to factor in too, so she knows she needs to cut herself a little slack. Again, it's an adjustment.

"You're welcome," Mark replies, giving her elbow a light, comforting squeeze. "Should I…would it help if I told you that more often?"

Addison gives him a sheepish look. "I think you might need to for a little bit."

"Consider it done. And by the way…Mother's Day is next Sunday. Is there anything in particularly you want? Katiebee was incredibly unhelpful when I asked her what she thought we should get you."

"Just sleep." They've gone four days in a row without a Mount Vesuvius-level crying jag from Kate, but sleep is still all Addison desires. "Oh, and I think it would be nice if you called both your mother and Carolyn and wished them a Happy Mother's Day. We could call Carolyn together, actually."

"The Carolyn part isn't the problem for me…" Mark grimaces. "But…okay, fine. I'll call my mom. And well, as far as what to get you, Savvy suggested -"

"Wow. I love that girl, but she sure is a meddler."

"Yeah, although it's appreciated sometimes. I knew Mother's Day was coming up, but I've definitely been a zombie, so the reminder was nice. I really need to get my ass in gear, otherwise I'm not going to survive when I start back at work. Anyway, Sav suggested you go get a massage with her or something."

"That sounds really nice – and I love that it involves her, that's just classic Sav – but I…I don't think I'm ready to leave Kate yet," she stares at him, eyes anxious. "It's not you; it's me."

Mark understands what she's trying to say, but can't resist teasing her. "Wow, you're really using that line on me?"

She offers a small smile. "No, really. It isn't you. You're incredible with her. I just…I don't feel ready to go somewhere without her yet. Nowhere that I couldn't escape in like a half hour, at least."

"Okay. I get that."

"The Yankees game is my deadline," she adds. "June sixth. I don't really want to bring a two month old to a baseball game. We can leave her with Sav and Weiss that afternoon. I know you'd prefer to turn her into a Red Sox hater as soon as possible -"

"Well, she shares DNA with me, so she was born hating the Red Sox. That's not an issue. And actually, I don't want to bring her either. I thought I would, but now that she's here, she's just too little and that's so many people to be around. We're…we're becoming those parents, aren't we?"

"Looks like it. At least for now, anyway. But as far as Mother's Day…I'd just like to spend the day with you two. And sleep. Oh – and you know that keepsake with her inked hands and footprints? We need to hang that. And go back through the photos that Darcy –"

"Who?"

"The photographer, Mark. The photographer who was here last week and took pictures of our daughter. And us with our daughter. You were there."

"I was also tired, honey. And my daughter spit-up in my mouth that morning, and yeah, Sam and Naomi said that would happen, but it was still really awful, so you'll have to forgive me if some of the details of that day are a bit hazy. Anyway, keep going. You want to go through the photos…?"

"Yes. Go back through the photos Darcy emailed and print some of Kate to hang. I for sure want the one where she's in the Moses basket and wearing that cute little headband. Oh, and we should definitely print some with the three of us to commemorate the one day in the past three weeks I've worn any semblance of makeup. And we need to write thank you cards for all the gifts –"

"Addison?" He interrupts. Lack of sleep has cut down on how much information he can retain. The rambling doesn't help. "Just write down a to-do list for me and we'll tackle it all for your first Mother's Day."

"A to-do list," she giggles. "That's such a…dad thing."

"Well, unless there's something you're not telling me, I'm pretty sure I am a dad."

She leans forward to kiss his shoulder. "Nothing I'm not telling you. But, Mark? There, well, is something else I want to tell you."

He taps her on the nose. "Tell me something else."

"It. Um. We were talking about Mother's Day, which is the tenth. And I just wanted you to know that on the eighth it will be, or would have been, my anniversary with Derek. I'm okay. I just…wanted you to know that, I guess." They got married the day before Mother's Day, deciding it wasn't that big a deal because it's not like May eighth would always fall on the second Saturday in May. Addison had remembered joking at the time that when they had kids, it would be easy enough for Derek to combine their anniversary and Mother's Day.

"I'm glad you told me. And it's okay if you're not all the way okay, too."

"Thank you. You can probably just give me an extra-long hug next Friday," she makes a noise of surprise when his arms tighten around her and she's buried further into his chest. "Mark, what are you doing? I said next Friday."

"Too bad," he replies. "You're getting an extra-long hug right now too. Accept the hug, Addison."

"Well, thank you," she says gratefully. Once he relaxes his arms a bit, Addison reaches a hand up to cup his cheek, his stubble (more than usual because manscaping has taken a backseat to caring for a newborn) feeling rough beneath her palm. "This is a real nice moment we're having right now, you know. And I'm going to be pissed if our kid wakes up…"

Mark grins, finishing her thought. "And ruins it? This is the exact kind of moment a kid is supposed to ruin, right? It's kind of cool, if you think about it."

"I'm thinking about it," Addison's lips twitch as she tries to think – this time though, she doesn't feel that her lack of ability to fully embrace cognitive skills lately has anything to do with this. "And I'm not sure I understand."

"It's like…it's like when she was born and it was raining and we didn't care because we were a family. And with this…it's just that we have a kid, Addison. We have a kid and she's going to ruin so many nice moments for us, you know?" Mark grins and shrugs a shoulder. "Sorry. Lack of consistent sleep is making me dumber. I don't know what I'm saying anymore. Does that even make sense?"

"It does, Mark. I get it," Addison replies, feeling her heart patter quicker. She thinks of a particular line in one of the books they've been reading to Kate: I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always.

-