Toads-in-the-Hole

Today was my first day back to work after my nearly-two month maternity leave. I found that, unlike my co-workers, my hiatus afforded me a certain amount of reprieve from the cares of Caring, and so I met my nursing responsibilities feeling refreshed and ready. My attitude was buoyed further by the reality that my part-time status will require me to be on time somewhere only a couple of times each week.

Although the day was busy for me - learning the new unwieldy, hospital wide, entirely electronic patient charting system in addition to jogging here and there in my usual service of patients - I had a great day. In part, because it started off on the right foot with just the right new little family ...

I tapped on my assigned patient's door, poked my head inside, and said my typical introduction to a sleepy-looking new mom, "Hi, my name is Aimee and I'll be your nurse today. Is it okay if I come in?" Nobody, especially achy moms looking for pain medication, ever refuses. After the usual assessments and look-overs, the new mom and I had a chit-chat over her tightly swaddled, two day-old daughter.

"So, have you given your daughter a name yet?" (I phrase this question in this way often, as I remember the pressure we felt to name both of our babies before we were discharged. Naming another person takes thoughtful consideration, and although Joel and I had working lists prepared each time we went into labor, we just couldn't name our little ones before we'd had a chance to be properly introduced ...)

The new mom, beaming down at her daughter, said, "Yes. Her name is Adelaide."

"Adelaide! Oh my gosh! I have an Adelaide, too!" In almost a year of work with newly-named babies, I hadn't met an Adelaide. Sure, we've had tons of Addies, Addisons, and Adelines, but no Adelaides, until today.

We cooed over the new Adelaide until the doctor came in to check on her patient.

"What did you name her?" asked the doctor.

"We decided to name her Adelaide, and my nurse, Aimee, has an Adelaide, too!"

"Oh my gosh," said the doctor, "I have an Adelaide, too! She's three. How old is your Adelaide?" the doctor asked me.

The three of us went on for a little while about our Adelaides ... What is the likelihood? In a world of Emmas, Jacks, Emilys, and Jacobs, Adelaide's name will always be a bit unique. It's part of why we chose Adelaide for Adelaide: old-world charm, a little bit playful, a little bit sassy, and great nickname potential. But, it's definitely a name that makes people say, "Ade-lyn?" or "Abigail?" or "What?" Except people born before 1920 and those familiar with the musical Guys and Dolls, I nearly always have to repeat or at least spell Adelaide's name. I never expect to meet many Adelaides under the age of 90, so today's moment felt positively serendipitous and kept me delighted the live long day.

I told this story to Joel, Henry, and Adelaide on the drive home from work. Adelaide replied, "That's hilarious!"