Showing posts with label triplets. Show all posts
Showing posts with label triplets. Show all posts

Friday, June 20, 2008

Do What You Gotta. Or Shut Up!

When I found out I was expecting triplets, it forced a huge lifestyle change in more ways than one! The first thing we had to do was to figure out how I would do bed rest for three months, with three young children to care for, in the summertime so I didn't even have school to help me!

Obviously, I would not be able to do it on my own. Hubby had to work. Oldest was 10, Second was 7 - old enough to help out some, but not too much. Third was 3, and having a LOT of trouble adjusting to this turn of events. A "spirited" (the PC word for difficult, or high-demand) child to begin with, he got worse! Poor thing, I am not criticizing him, I know it must have been hard. But it's just the way it was, and I'm setting the scene.

Thankfully my parents live in town. Mom swung into action. First they took the kids on a trip, the same week my bed rest started. While they were gone we tried to figure out how to manage. I have some really awesome friends who stepped up without even being asked, and offered to go above and beyond to help me. I won't even try to name them all here, because I don't want to leave anyone out! I'll just say, I have the best parents, and the best friends, in the universe!!

At first we tried having me lie on the couch during the day, with the kids peacefully playing together around me, bringing me bonbons and iced tea at my command, fluffing my pillows and showing the strong love and loyalty of brotherhood in action, me reading them stories and admiring their artwork (which would be on paper, not the wall), and helping them build miniature lego creations. We would sit quietly together and chat about life and eat snacks and.....Photobucket

HA!! Photobucket

No, really. laugh

Well - it was a nice thought, anyway. It lasted about half a day, when poor little Third - and I know this was innocent - jumped on my stomach as I read him a story. Then, when reminded about the babies, shouted "I DON'T CARE!!!!!!!"

And why should he care? His world was being turned upside down and he didn't like it one bit. He was THREE, for crying out loud. Something had to change! So the decision was made that plans would have to be made for the kids. Day care (optimistically called "Summer Day Camp" in the summertime) was a possibility but very expensive. Here's where my friends really stepped in. One handled the master schedule and arranged for Third to be taken care of - out of the house. I'm not going to go into how Third reacted to that, right now. Suffice to say, it was not pretty, and I spent most mornings in tears focused on the many ways I had failed my little boy. But that's a topic for another day, and he's over it now, anyway. Sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do. And that, in a nutshell, is actually the point of this post!

I was a very selfish person growing up and for years after that. I worked hard to overcome that and think I did a pretty good job. I became a giver, not a taker. I actually enjoyed giving and helping others. I didn't see that the flip side of that was that I no longer liked to take or be helped. I figured because I had taken so much in the past I'd had my share, maybe. If I thought about it at all. Point is - I hadn't realized how much I would HATE being on the needy end. And I mean HATE! I found myself first trying to turn people down, then spent the rest of the time apologizing for needing help in the first place. Boy, did God have some lessons to teach me in humility. Luckily my friends were awesome enough to tell me to get over myself. So I bit my tongue and accepted the help. I was still not ready to ask for it, though. I vowed I would never get to that point.

Then the babies were born. I was up and around then, but had the NICU to visit and milk to produce. School was back in, so that helped a lot. Third was now in preschool, and we chose the all day program to give him some stability while we all got used to these babies.

Then they came home, all at once. Wow. I will save a lot of time and jump straight to the day, several weeks later, when they were all crying at once and there was absolutely no consoling them. They swung screaming in their swings - back and forth, back and forth. I tried everything I knew. Finally I turned up the music, and rocked back and forth in the glider, crying myself, singing at the top of my lungs some song I can't remember but it was about how awesome God is. At some point I could no longer sing and just cried...finally I said, God, you're going to have to do something. I didn't ask for these babies, and I can't take care of them. HELP ME!!!!!!!!!

Yes, I am still ashamed to admit I said such a thing. Just goes to show I still have a lot to learn about humility. Photobucket

At that moment Mom arrived, took one look and sent me to bed while she tended to the babies (who all stopped crying immediately, go figure). I felt much better after that, and in the evening I got a phone call.

It was C. I didn't know her, had never heard of her but somehow she had gotten my name. Her Bible Study group wanted to help me out, with stuff or babysitting or help around the house or whatever I needed. What's more, she had served as a volunteer coordinator with a local family when they had quads, still had the list of volunteers, and would be happy to do the same for me and even to find the volunteers!

I have to admit, while I was still reluctant to ask for help, my reluctance to accept it had flown out the window that day with my babies' cries.

So a few days later found me greeting a complete stranger at the front door. I showed her in, showed her where the basic supplies were, introduced her to the babies and went straight to bed.

Leaving a complete stranger in charge of my three infants.

For THREE HOURS.

And never felt guilty about it for one moment!

C's ladies came over for about the first year. C on Tuesday, L on Wednesday, S on Thursday. There were others, but those are the three that came regularly all year. There is no way I could ever put a price on what they did for me. There is no way I will ever be able to repay them. No words to even express exactly what they did for me. I can tell you one thing, though - they were sent by God Himself. They were angels!

Now to the meat of this post. There are people in this world who would rather whine and complain than do anything about it. There is a woman on a triplet site I visit who comes on almost daily to complain - of her lot in life, her lack of help, how she doesn't have time to visit her baby in the NICU - anything. Everything! She says she wants support, but no one is really sure what she wants - because any supportive comment or offer of advice or help is instantly met with negativity and turned away. People have offered to sit with her other children so she can go to the hospital. No - she can't have strangers watching her kids. Fine, she is told - I will come to the hospital and play with the kids in the waiting room so you can go in. No, that is still having strangers watch them. She is too broke for day care, but apparently not broke enough to qualify for aid. Or she doesn't have time to apply. Or they aren't returning her calls. There is always, ALWAYS an excuse. Maybe some of them are true, but when everything ends up with a negative, you have to wonder...

I can't fault anyone for not wanting to leave their kids with strangers... you think I haven't thought of all that COULD have happened if my helpers were bad people? But these women have even offered to get to know her and the kids so they won't be strangers anymore. Seems like a no brainer to me! But the biggest thing is - and this has always been a pet peeve of mine - don't complain if you are not willing to hear solutions! Don't ask questions if you don't want to hear an answer! There comes a time when it is time to STOP WHINING and START DOING. It's not rocket science! You gotta do what you gotta do - and if it means "lowering yourself" to accept help so that you can visit your SICK BABY in the hospital, that's what you do! If it's not, then you are just whining for the sake of whining, and I can't respect that. Especially if there are kids involved and suffering.

I'm thankful for the lessons in humility that I learned over the past few years. I pray that this mother will learn them before it's too late to help her baby.

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

Big Girl

I'm so proud of my Big Girl.

As we all know, one of the problems with having triplets in separate classes is spreading yourself around as a parent volunteer. Not the least of these occasions is the dreaded Field Trip.

At our school, each class is allowed to have four parents accompany them. We're not a school that has a shortage of willing parents, so there is a lottery system. You let them know you're interested by the deadline, and they put all the names in a hat and choose four. If you get picked for one, you're not in the lottery for the next, unless there's a shortage (which is rare!).

I discussed this with one teacher early in the year, and it was decided that I would put my name in for all three classes each time, and if I get picked for more than one, we would go from there. That didn't happen, though, and I went with Mrs. H's class the first time.

So this time (there are only two field trips this year) I put my name in for Mrs. L's and Mrs. M's. I was chosen by Mrs. M.

OK, that's the background. Yesterday Girlie brought home a note from Mrs. M:

"I just discovered that Hrs. H only has one volunteer signed up, while Mrs. L and I had to turn some away. Would you be willing to go with Mrs. H's class instead? It's totally up to you, but please let me know ASAP so that we know how to proceed."

Girlie knew the situation already, so I asked her what she thought I should do. She immediately said "Mrs. H needs you, so you should go with them."

"Are you sure? You know that means I won't be with you" I replied. I asked her this twice, and she said yes, like it was no problem. So I started to write the note back to Mrs. M.

A few minutes later she stood in front of me, lower lip quivering. As tears welled up in her eyes, she said bravely "Maybe you can go on a field trip with me next year".

AWWWWWWW!!!!!

Well, I knew something had to be done. I thought for a minute, and then presented a couple of possibilities I thought of. The best one, in my opinion was for me to go with Mrs. H's class, but have Girlie get to go with my group. This would require permission from the principal, and would also mean that Girlie would miss out on one of the cool aspects of being a chaperone's kid - choosing her bestest friends to be in her group. But she agreed that it was a good compromise (How long, I wonder, will Mommy win out over bestest friends? I dunno, but I'll take it. Photobucket).

I'm so proud of Girlie, first for being willing to help where help was needed. When she came to me with tears, she was not trying to take back her decision - just letting me know how she felt. So I'm very proud of her for that. I'm not sure *I* could be big enough to do that! Photobucket And finally I am really proud of her for being willing and able to compromise. She didn't have to, you know. The teacher left it totally up to me. I would have gone with her decision if she wanted me to go with her class. It's the teacher's problem to get chaperones, and there were other solutions (like dividing up Mrs. H's students among other classes). I would not have thought any less of her for saying she wanted to keep things as originally planned. But it's her nature to be helpful, so I am not surprised she chose as she did. Photobucket

The story ends well...we got permission from all parties to transfer Girlie for the day. Girlie is thrilled! M is thrilled, because I get to go with him after all. He gets both field trips this year, but has not rubbed that in at all, and S doesn't seem to mind. I had prepared them for the certainty of "unfairness" at the beginning of the year, and they have done a great job of being happy for each other instead of feeling sorry for themselves if they don't get the same thing. So I'm really proud of all of them. Photobucket

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Handicapped????

I'm a pretty easygoing person. If there's one thing I can't stand it's "Mommy Wars" and drama. But every once in awhile a thread at Triplet Connection comes along that I just can't resist! I can't say what I'm really thinking over there; I have to go easy. So here I am.

Bit of background: there is an ongoing argument (not to be confused with all the other ongoing arguments!) in MommyLand over whether a Triplet Mommy "needs" a handicapped sticker for her car. It sounds great, doesn't it? We have these big honkin' strollers to get out of the car, multiple babies to load in. It's hard, in a crowded parking lot. It's dangerous. No one's arguing those points! It's a fact!

But we all have to learn to deal with it. Hell, it's hard and dangerous even with one baby. Frankly, I had more "close calls" with my first than I ever did with the triplets. Maybe I was more cautious with them because of the added danger factor? Or maybe I was just inexperienced the first time. Who knows!?

Some parents don't want to deal with it. They want special privileges, special treatment, just because they have multiple babies. Some feel they need it; others merely feel entitled to it. Either way - it's appalling!

Here is the OP on TC, followed by just a few of the replies:

"For those of you who have handicapped hangtags, who signed the form for you - your Dr or your Pedi.?If there is a list of reasons for the hangtag, what did you select? In my state, a police officer can also sign for it, but when I went to the police station, they said that they won't sign it (they don't sign them for anyone).Please - no judgements - I didn't think I would need one until a few recent close calls in shopping center parking lots. I live in an urban area and I'm having trouble loading/unload the kids into their stroller and I believe the people can't see the stroller when backing up and a few cars have come VERY close to backing into the stroller! If I can get a hangtag, then I'll have enough room to put the stroller between the cars and load the kids. "

A few of the replies:

You don't need one, nor should you have one. Park further out and walk.There are people who truly need those spots and have difficulty getting out and about.

******

My father has a disability and needs those spaces. Don't park in them. Having triplets is not a disability. Unless you have a disabled child you do not need a handicapped tag. Please don't abuse the system.

******

You can find ways to make parking lots safer.
gotta say my kids are 6 years old and we have had many years of experience in parking lots. Do they make me nervous...yes-still to this day and my kids are no longer in a stroller. Did I ever think of getting a handicap card because of it....no. I have chosen to park further away driving around parking lots until a safe spot opened up if I had to. Wait till you have to walk with all three holding hands. The danger is still there of someone backing into you. You learn to be extra cautious and find safer parking spots. Save the handicap cards for the handicap they need them more than you.

******

Then the OP responded defensively that she hadn't been clear in her first post, that she hadn't explained her entire situation, blah blah and how dare you judge ME! I responded to this with:

It actually DOES seem pretty clear to me. DO you have a reason, or not? If so, why are you asking total strangers which reason THEY selected? You
specifically state that you want one because of "close calls", and you have been offered tips on how to deal with those. Look, when you post on a public board, you're going to get differing opinions, some of which may include judgments, even (perhaps especially!) when you ask to not have them (that's sort of a sign that you KNOW it's a controversial subject!). That's just the way it is. If you have a reason for the tag -- that's between you, your doctor and your state - not anyone else.

To some of you who seem to think it's ok beause lots of people have them that don't need them -

#1, how do you KNOW they don't need them? They may be like my friend, who is 35 and looks completely healthy but has a severe heart problem...and gets yelled at every time she uses hers, so she sometimes chooses to put her health at risk and walk, rather than get comments like "Glad to see your handicap is not
physical!". You can't always see someone's problem.

#2 - how on earth would it make it right just because "everyone else is doing it"? Wait till your kids come at you with that line.

The fact is, having multiples is NOT a handicap, even if it is inconvenient at times. We all have to learn to deal with it. It's called life.

I can't really add too much to what I wrote there. For one thing, it absolutely amazes me that so many people go to TC and ask complete STRANGERS for advice they should be getting from professionals! Medical advice, for instance. What the hell? Why are you on a message board posting about whether or not this is premature labor, instead of getting your ass to the ER pronto?? No wonder everyone is always so suspicious! Is that REALLY something a real mom would do??

But I digress. Photobucket The point is, if the woman had an actual, real reason for a handicapped tag, then first of all she would have gotten one rather than post on TC asking for adice. Secondly, her first post made it clear that she does NOT have a reason. She simply wants parking lot life to be less stressful on herself. At least call it what everyone knows it is!

I really do have a 35 year old friend who looks healthy. She is trim and beautiful and looks perfectly fit, but is not. The fact is she can not walk more than a few feet without panting. She did not ask for a handicapped tag but was given one by her doctor who insists she use it for her own good. Truly, she knows it's best. But the fact is she rarely uses it. I can't tell you how many times I myself have witnessed the insults she recieves when getting out of her car. People - you can't always judge people's health by their looks! Admittedly, I used to do the same thing. Only when I saw it for myself with my friend did I realize what an asshole that made me.

So when I see comments like this it really, really pisses me off:

"There are a LOT of people out there that have one and they in no way need one!!! Us MoM's (or just mom's with several young children period) need one more
than most people that have one. JMO."

Oh, really?? Are you their doctor...NO? Then shut up! How dare you! Your statement is an insult to any parent who has ever successfuly parked their car and gone into the store without losing a kid. Get over yourself! The world does not owe you an easy time!

I understand wanting life to be easier. Having triplets is HARD, no doubt about it. But it's life. There's a difference between making things easier in appropriate ways and having a sense of entitlement. There's a difference between accepting help or even humbly asking for it, and demanding it. There's a difference between accepting free gifts offered by companies, or even asking nicely for a discount, and demanding it. There's a difference between having a medical reason for a handicap tag and demanding one just because you don't want to take the extra time to do things differently.

And be THANKFUL that you don't have a REAL handicap!! Photobucket

Edited to add: a friend had an interesting comment about this subject. The same people who think they "deserve" the handicap sticker are the same ones who will gripe when a mom with one kid is using the multi-kid cart at Wal-Mart! Yeah, I think she's probably right...

Sunday, January 13, 2008

Yes, I nursed my triplets!

Although my triplets are now six years old, lately I have been contacted by several Moms expecting their own triplets. It is generally assumed that it's impossible to nurse triplets. Many who would like to get discouraged by the negativity and lack of support and either give up too soon, or don't even try at all. It IS difficult - make no mistake! But it is not necessarily as difficult as one might think, and is so worth it. In response to those asking for help, I dug up the old article I wrote about it when they were still babies - good thing, too, because I can't remember much now, those days are a total blur! Here is the article as written, with the exception of the personal info I removed. I hope it can help someone else.

***********************************************************

I have breastfed all of my single babies (3 boys), and there was no doubt in my mind that I would do the same for this fourth child. When I found out there were three babies, though, I was not sure it could be done! I was determined to try, though, and do the best I could. Here is my story of nursing triplets.

One of the first things I did when I got home from the doctor after that first ultrasound was to call my friend, a La Leche League leader, to ask for help. She wasn't home and I had to leave a message. I turned to the book The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding and was relieved to see a chapter on nursing multiples that included information on triplets. But I still wondered. Everyone I talked to seemed to think it was impossible to nurse triplets.

I figured at the very least I could nurse one each feeding, with the others getting formula, and rotate which one got the breast. I knew I could successfully nurse one baby, so this became my minimum goal.

After awhile as I joined various e-mail lists and forums online, I learned that many women have successfully, exclusively nursed triplets and more. In the days when wet nurses were common, one woman would be in charge of feeding SIX babies! So it then became my goal to exclusively nurse my babies.

They were extremely likely to be preemies, and so it would be even more important than ever to give them Mother's milk. I "met" several women online who had been successful, and we became friends. I got advice and support from them when I needed it most. My babies were born at 32 weeks - the average for triplet births, but too early for the sucking instinct to be fully formed. They would have to be tube-fed until they learned to suckle properly.

The NICU nurses said they would like me to at least pump my milk while they were in the hospital. So a friend arranged for a hospital grade breast pump to be delivered right after the birth. A quality pump is essential!! Check with your insurance company - some will cover rental. Or tell friends and family that you need it and they can possibly gift it to you or help with it as part of your shower gift.

When I had recovered enough from the birth, the lactation consultant brought me the pump and we began. I was very blessed to have knowledgeable, supportive lactation consultants. As strange as it sounds for someone whose career is teaching people to nurse, I have heard the worst horror stories about them! Try to meet the consultants at your hospital before the birth. If they don't seem helpful, you may want to hire your own. Or look at La Leche League and try to find someone with experience with multiples, they can come to the hospital to help you get started.

I knew it would be crucial to surround myself as much as possible with support people. I don't think I could have done it without them. The babies were in the hospital for four weeks. During this time I was only allowed to actually nurse two or three times a day. I could only be there for a few feedings a day because of my other kids at home, so while I was there I would try to nurse them.

They were not very good at it! I did try some methods suggested by the LLL to avoid nipple confusion - including the use of a special tube thing (I can't remember the name) that was taped to my nipple and attached to the bottle at the other end. The idea was that they would get more milk through the tube but be practicing nursing and not end up confused by a bottle nipple. I never did get the hang of that thing and found it to be more trouble than it was worth, so I gave it up pretty quickly.

They always had to have a bottle after each "nursing" session - but I was pumping very well and they never had anything but my milk in their bottles! When they were released, they were still nowhere near nursing full time. We brought them home hoping and praying they would catch on eventually. This was a whole different ball game!

As best I can remember, here is what we did at first. I usually did NOT have help at home in the beginning; despite all the offers, they just never seemed to pan out! I just determined that for the time being, feeding babies would be my full time job (that includes getting the food and rest that I needed to nurse). I discussed this with hubby and kids so they knew what to expect - it was as if I was back on bed rest for awhile, LOL.

I would pump first if I had time (i.e. nobody screaming). This really helped to bring my supply up. The babies could always get enough milk; they are very efficient. The pump is not efficient enough to really help increase on its own, in my experience. Ideally I would pump and then wait at least 1/2 hour before nursing. Since I had to get a snack and water each time I nursed, I would do this in between to make best use of my time.

They were on a 3 hour schedule for the first month at home (until their due date had passed, per doctor's instructions). So if they were due to nurse at noon, I would pump at 11:00. When I was first pumping it would take 45 minutes or so to get a good amount. Before long it took only 10 to 15 minutes to do this. I tried to pump until I had at least 3 bottles worth, however big the bottles were at the time (Hubby got the computer to figure out their amounts based on their weight. I'm sorry I can't remember where he got this info, but your doctor can give it to you.). This way I at least kept up with their demand. Usually I could do at least 4 bottles worth.

After pumping, and before nursing, I would chug a huge glass of water. I tried to rotate who went first to nurse. Baby A got the left, Baby B got the right, and Baby C got some of each (rotating the order each time, and recording it on a chart so I could remember). I never had a problem getting more letdown. I think I really could have fed six babies easily!

As they got better at nursing they refused more of the bottle. I always bottled them AFTER nursing. If I had help I would pass the baby to be bottled and go on to the next to nurse. But even alone I never had a problem with impatience; they were always fairly willing to wait their turn (we did have our moments!) Now that I think about it, I believe that when I was alone I would choose one to nurse, and bottle the others, rotating each time. It was easy to bottle 2 at a time and I never propped bottles, though I know others do. I don't judge anyone for that, don't get me wrong. Do what you need to do. But I think they need cuddling as much as possible, heaven knows they already get less than a single baby! So do try to hold one each feeding, would be my suggestion.

I had a double nursing pillow, which was one of my most valuable baby items. I was able to stroke them and speak to them and cuddle each one. I rarely fed two at a time, though. If they would wait I thought it best to feed them separately, for the individual attention. Anyway, when C began obviously preferring the breast, I concentrated on her. She surprised me by absolutely REFUSING the bottle! Reverse nipple confusion? LOL! Since she refused the bottle I couldn't rotate her! So, at that point I would nurse her, then try at least one boy.

There were times when I thought the boys would never nurse and I would be pumping forever! After awhile I just decided to not give the bottle afterwards and see how they did. This was after the due date, as they said the babies can't really sense hunger too well before that (they were eight weeks old then). At first they got hungry again soon after, but they just got better and better. I didn't quit bottles altogether yet, but at least once or twice a day, with at least one of them, I would nurse only.

I think it was a little after Thanksgiving (age 9 weeks) that I decided to try nursing only during the day and see how it went. It took several days before it was working well; I was nursing all the time for a few days. By 3 and 1/2 months I was down to pumping three times a day. I always fed on demand during the day, no schedule. But when my body woke me up at 2:00 AM and said it's time to pump, I pumped then fed them whether they were still asleep or not. I was afraid they would wake up at 3:00 if I went back to bed!

I didn't care if they have a schedule per se, but wanted them to do things like eat and sleep at roughly the same time. So if one woke up to nurse, and the others stayed asleep, I would still get the others up to nurse. At about four months they were only getting up once at night, then when they were five months old they were mostly sleeping through the night from 8:30 to 7:00. Hooray!!!

I remember feeling like I was just feeding and pumping all day. But I really don't think I was! It would have been so much easier if I had more help. The little help I had at first was really more for my older kids (driving to and from school, etc.) But I did it! I had to take it one day at a time. My parents were a HUGE help by coming in to do the midnight feeding once I felt I could give up pumping at that hour. Hubby also got up with me for all the night feedings and eventually took over the early morning one so I could sleep through.

Eventually I had help coming in almost daily but this was long after they were off bottles. I told hubby and the kids to imagine that I was still on bed rest so I would not be able to just jump back into my former role. One of the most important things was that folks still brought dinner for the first three months. I would adivise anyone to NOT BE SHY. When people ask what they can do to help, add things like COOK ME A MEAL to that list! Don't let them think of something they can do to help, tell them, whatever you need. You will be amazed. I had friends who got their entire Ladies' Group from church to cook for me, and they didn't even know me. But they won't know what you need if you don't ask! :)

When the meals ended, now I just cook very BASIC stuff. I always loved to cook, but I am getting back into it gradually. You have to pick and choose what you can do and what can slip - whatever works for you. I was not willing to give up nursing the babies, so it was other things that got the slip.

For a mother of multiples, here is my opinion on the most important things they need help with:

  • Help with feeding (bottle while they BF/pump), just make sure to WAIT till she is done with the BF and not just give the bottle. I had a little problem with that. People want to hold the babies, and they want to give bottles, and they don't realize how important it is to learning to nurse that the bottle is LAST.
  • Cooking/cleaning.
  • Shopping
  • Laundry, etc.
  • I didn't really need people to baby-sit unless I had trouble getting a nap. I took advantage of that often - "I am going to bed. Wake me when they are hungry!" LOL!
I think most people expected to play with the babies while I did the housework! I guess that would have been more help than nothing, but it wasn't REALLY what I needed.

Most people will offer to help but it's easier to actually get them to if you are SPECIFIC about what you need. I made a list of EVERYTHING I thought others could help with, and split those up into parts: Not just laundry, but doing the wash, folding, sorting. So if they could only give me 30 minutes, folding laundry was a HUGE blessing! No one really thinks 30 minutes will be helpful, so the list is great. When they ask what they can do, give them the list and let them choose!

It doesn't really take much longer to nurse them than it did to nurse one, once they got the hang of it. It did take a lot of time when I had to pump and bottle them. It took a week or so for us to get into the swing of things once we got them home - for the first 2 weeks we got up together and did every feeding together. Then one morning I woke up late and hubby told me he had already fed them and I should go back to sleep! What a blessing! I just had to be careful not to skip pumping too often so my supply didn't go down. My parents also came over to do the midnight feeding almost every night. Once I started sleeping more I felt much better.

At about 7 months the doctor was concerned because C and B were not gaining weight. For two weeks I fed them more often, including reinstating night feedings (A was still feeding at night and he was growing fine). At their weigh-in they had improved nicely. We also started solids at this time, and they got their first formula - powder mixed into their cereal to add calories. Finally a use for the free formula, LOL.

After all this, and doing some research, I would not freak out about this again. You need to look at the whole baby, not just the scale. All of them were clearly getting enough to eat. They were very happy babies, and had just the right amount of wet and dirty diapers. The charts that the doctor uses are based on the "average" baby. Bottle-fed babies will often gain weight faster for a number of reasons, one of which is that the person giving the bottle pushes the baby to finish the whole thing, while a nursing baby stops when he is full. This rapid weight gain throws off the charts for the breastfed baby!

All in all though, it was a relief when they were all gaining weight again. After a month of this I was able to stop the night feedings again and they grew like weeds! As I write this they are 8-1/2 months old. They eat two meals and a snack of solid food a day - usually cereal with fruit for breakfast and cereal with vegetables for dinner, with crackers or teething biscuits in the afternoon. They each eat about 4 oz. per meal, the size of a regular baby food jar. We still mix formula in with it to add calories. I plan to nurse them until they are 14 months old, or an adjusted age of one year. If they want to continue after that, I don't have a problem with that. I have always enjoyed nursing; it is such a special relationship with my babies. I have always been sad for it to end.

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UPDATE: I ended up nursing them for THREE YEARS! When 14 months rolled around - the goal I had set - they were going strong, growing like weeds and happy as clams. I decided that I had worked too hard to teach them to nurse, and there was NO WAY I was going to MAKE them quit! All my oldest had self-weaned and I am a big believer in that. So it should be with these, I decided. Well, they didn't stop, and didn't stop. Going, and going, and GOING!

Eventually I made rules that we could only nurse in my bedroom - this was because they developed the habit of coming up to me and lifting my shirt every time I sat down, no matter who else was in the room! So at first they could ask to go in my room, then later it was only at set times during the day. At the end we were only nursing in the morning. The older kids would get them up and they would run to my room and hop in bed with me. We moved to a new house on their third birthday and they nursed that first day, and never again, by their own choice.

The best thing about self-weaning is that there are NO side effects on the mom! If you know what I mean *wink*. I never thought I would be an extended nurser, and I am by no means militant about that. I am glad I did it, though. Although at the time I wondered if I was cheating my older kids by not being as available as I might have been, I honestly feel that it would not have been MUCH better if I had bottle fed. My older kids learned many valuable lessons during this time that I am so glad they had the opportunity to learn. They bonded more with their Dad who previously had not been as involved with their lives. The nursing was a special time for me and the babies, and Daddy and the other children were not cheated at all as they had their own ways of bonding with the babies.

Don't get me wrong - it was not easy! It took determination and diligence. Although there were many times it seemed it would be easier to bottle feed, I don't think it really would have been in the long run, all things considered!

**Feel free to post here or PM me at TC if you have any questions!

Saturday, December 22, 2007

Risky Business

Recently, two triplet moms have died in or shortly after childbirth. First, Debbie Smith of Tucson, and then and Tina Hagenbuch of Kalamazoo. What a terrible, sad tragedy. My heart and prayers go out to their familes and especially to the daddies who are left with three premature infants that they have to be strong for as they grieve for their wives. It's not the way it was supposed to be. Tina's story gave a link to her MySpace page, where she is still receiving comments from her friends. It's sad and sweet to read, and brings tears to my eyes.

I guess it really hits home for me because I had trouble after the birth of my triplets. This is a journal entry I wrote long ago about the birth and my recovery:


When they were born 8 weeks early they were remarkably healthy. The reason I was told to gain so much weight was for this reason. It helps them be heavier at birth which makes for healthier babies overall. Their weights were awesome for any 32 week baby, super awesome for triplets! And they had no breathing problems. I spent more time than usual in recovery - a triplet birth is a lot more taxing on the body than a regular one.

So 16 hours after their birth I had not seen them yet other than the one glimpse of C. H described them to me - he said B's head was the size of a baseball, and A's was the size of a softball. It is hilarious to me and typical that he would descibe them in sports terms but when I saw them it was true!! Those were the best words he could use to describe it.

I did get wheeled through the NICU on the way to my room, but they were working on them so that was all I got. H was spending as much time as he could in there though and I just slept, for the first time in 10 years it seemed like!

They brought me dinner but I couldn't eat, which worried them. I remember there was like a season finale or some important episode of JAG I was trying to watch and kept dozing off. They were coming in every few minutes to take my blood pressure and finally told me something was odd and they were taking me back to the recovery room for observation. My blood pressure was spiking and plummetting within minutes, over and over again. Also I was having a LOT of trouble breathing. I get shortness of breath really bad when pregnant - a normal symptom but I get it worse than anyone I know of. It was made substantially worse
by the fact that I had triplets and by the bed rest. My inability to breathe was one reason he had trouble giving the epidural. Then the reason it took so long to get C out was that she had gotten wedged in under my heart and a lung.

By the time I got back to recovery I was panting and complaining I couldn't breathe - it was getting worse when it should get better. So they gave me a breathing treatment. As they put the mask over me, the nurse said there was some sort of stimulant in the mist to help me breathe better. Hmmm, they just gave me a nice big dose of demoral, I said...maybe a stimulant is not such a great idea.....no worries, she said. It all works together. And she walked away.

Maybe it was all in my mind then. Maybe I conjured up this whole thing. But I started feeling really antsy. I was so doped on demoral I could barely move, yet so hyped on whatever that I HAD to move. I did not do drugs in the past - I did take a dose of speed-like stuff in college during exam week, and this is what it felt like, and why I never did more than that! There was some teen movie a long time ago - I think the female star was what's-her-name, the woman Jamie in Mad About You....she took a bad dose of acid and suddenly went crazy and jumped out the window. Well, I was eyeing the window. I honestly felt like doing that at that moment. That is the best I can describe something I never want to feel again! It felt like hours but only a few minutes passed and there was a flurry of activity around me as they started testing this and testing that. I lay there asking, what is going on! and no one would answer me.

I started to consider the possibility that I was dying. I am leaving my hubby with 6 kids, 3 of which are newborn premature babies, I hope the insurance is paid, blah blah...then they said they were sending me for a CAT scan. I had no idea what that was, just that they do it when things are serious. I get down there and they tell me to lie PERFECTLY still, don't move AT ALL....um, well, I have this real bad cough you see, I can't control it....I can't breathe....I am hyped up to insane proportions on some unknown drug....I think I am dying....and as luck would have it they stick me in this incredibly coffin-like gizmo and tell me to be PERFECTLY still!!! It was frankly all I could do not to laugh the whole time I was in there, at the
absurdity and irony of it all.

When I got out of there it was 5 AM. It suddenly occurred to me that here I am, DYING mind you, and my hubby may not even know about it. I got a nice nurse to call him but he couldn't reach him. I found myself in a strange room with big ol' machines and when I asked was told it was ICU. Well, now I KNEW I was dying. No one goes to ICU for the fun of it. I was
told that I had a collapsed lung and I can't remember what was wrong with my heart. I never did get a full explanation but I didn't push too hard. Finally H showed up, having gone to my room, found it empty and no one knew where I was! So he was a little perturbed....what we have here is a failure to
communicate....

They could not bring the babies to me, of course, but said they could take me down that afternoon if I was a good girl. First I was to lie as still as possible then a few hours later they made me get out of bed, forced me, to get out and walk to the chair and sit. OUCH!! Not fair, not fun. I was poked and prodded all day. Some heart person came in and checked me over thoroughly. The respiratory therapist - who, ironically, had been called in to work on the babies but I needed her more - was in and out. By dinnertime, though, they not only took me to see the babies but I got to go back to my room. Crisis averted.

The respiratory therapist continued to visit me. I had to use this thing that you blow into to measure how much lung capacity you have. When I first used it I moved it maybe 3/4 inch, yikes, trust me that is not much. Goal was 3 or 4 inches, I was not doing too well there.

I was in for a week and by the time I left was walking down the hall without holding the hand rail. The first few days I had to be wheeled to the nursery.

As for the babies they were doing great. The hospital gave me a pump, and I kept busy with that.

I never did push for a full explanation of what happened to me in there, though I should and I probably will one day. The doctor said everything was fine, but later talking to HIS nurse (not the hospital one) she said "we were afraid we were losing you". I have never regained my full health. I still have breathing problems and they still check my heart regularly.



There's no doubt that having triplets is risky business. Heck, having a baby at all is a risk. Surprisingly, though, these two are the only ones I have heard of who died in relation to the birth. There are certainly others I didn't hear about. There may be more like me, who had problems that ended up OK; I guess we don't hear so much about those.

My initial thought was that some may use these stories to try to push selective reduction. That's where they go in and selectively choose one or more babies of a multiple pregnancy and kill it. I hope that doesn't happen. It's pretty well proven that a triplet pregnancy is not much riskier than a twin, and that a "reduced twin" pregnancy is NO less risky. While I was in bed this afternoon recovering from the "stomach bug du jour" I did some research and found that nothing's changed in those statistics.

I know how scary it is discovering you're having triplets. I know how scary it must be for newly pregnant triplet mommies to read these stories. I realize that the doctors feel bound to offer the option of "selective reduction". I can't imagine having it pushed on me. Luckily I already knew it existed and we both knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that we would never even consider it - in fact we stopped the doctor and did not allow him to finish the speech. But some have never heard of the procedure, and when presented with the gloom and doom outlook of some doctors (my peri was like that), I can see how easily led they might be. My research led me to a blog, which linked to this article entitled "Too Much to Carry?". What a frightening thing to read! First off, their assertions are WRONG. DO NOT form your view of SR from this article alone! It's not true that the pregnancy is less risky if one is killed! That's a bald-faced lie, easily disproven with a little bit of further research.

But read it and see how frightened the women are, how unsure. They are trusting the doctor to do what's best, and allowing him to kill one or more of their children! One woman even wanted to keep them all and her mother talked her out of it based on what the doctor had said! Reading this article...the baby pulling back from the needle...the baby had been waving and moving and then stops....choosing which one to get rid of based on its sex...ugh!! How terribly sad and unnecessary!!

I often wonder if anyone has interviewed these couples long after the reduction. How are they living with what they've done? I say this not to place blame on them. For the most part I don't blame them. I blame the doctor who talked a hormonal and unsure woman into making a serious and irrevocable decision. I can only imagine how they might feel as they watch their other children blossom and grow. Do they tell them about the other one? Do they think of the other one at all? Or do they de-personalize it so it doesn't bother them?

H and I often tell people that if we HAD considered reduction, it would have been C. A and B were identical twins sharing a sac, so they were off limits.

C is our only daughter. A little princess who holds her own among her five brothers. I can't imagine life without her.

Triplets on their first day home at one month old. This shows the difference in head sizes.
L-R: B (baseball head), A (softball head), C (fraternal)
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My girlie this past Spring.
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