moxygenJust trying to figure out which way is up…

Three years ago this morning Abby was born.

As I was wheeled into the very cold operating room my doctor introduced me to the attending pediatrician, a man who once told me I could lose 50 pounds if I just stopped eating like a pig and cut out pop (yes, pop, I’m from Minnesota, dammit) without considering I might have thyroid issues. He didn’t remember me, but remembered Emma who had brought us all together when she swallowed a nickel. I am still working on losing those 50 pounds, but this is a story about Abby.

As I shimmied my way from the hospital bed to the operating table my doctor told the room of nurses, doctors and anesthesiologists my story. My story of loss and weird genetics.

I got pregnant the first time I dipped my toes into the land of infertility, thus pissing off any infertile who should happen upon my little blog. Because of my Rh issues I was still automatically considered high risk (but not really high risk). Monthly perinatal appointments and MCA dopple measurements as we watched little Abby grow inside.

Everything looked perfect, but both James and I were still nervous. We knew the absolute worst that could happen and worried that by some freak of nature it could happen again. When Abby was born she let out a cry and James and I cried as well. Ethan never cried, that I could remember, and so hearing Abby’s cries let me know that everything was going to be OK.

When James finally got enough courage to stand up and not look at my insides all cut open before him, he made it over to the corner where Abby was beign cleaned up. I asked how she looked and he replied, “She’s SO big!” At just over 7 pounds she was much bigger than our 4 pound Ethan but to everyone else she was just an average baby. My doctor reassured me that she was perfect and told me how happy he was for us as tears rolled off the sides of my face.

Abby amazed me that day and she’s managed to amaze me nearly every day since. After I returned home from Minneapolis I was met with a full blown little girl. Gone was the little toddler who kept me company while I was on bed rest at home.

Tonight we will have chocolate pancakes and bacon for dinner. For dessert we’ll finish off the Abby Cadabby cake she had for her party on Saturday. Tomorrow we’ll start inching closer and closer to four. All the while I will keep wishing I could freeze time for just a little while.

Happy Birthday, Abigail.

I have so much that I want to post. I wanted to write about how the girls are now nearly a week old - well, they’re adjusted age anyway. I wanted to post pictures that I took over the 4th of July holiday, but they’re still on my phone. I wanted to write about how I can’t tell if I am sleep deprived or if I need to make an appointment with my doctor about getting on some medication or if it’s a mix of both.

The girls’ GI tract is still maturing, so they have been FUSSY with the gas. Gas drop haven’t helped and they refuse to eat their bottles unless I am holding them. Because of all of the belly rubbing and the bottle holding I ahven’t had a moment to myself this week at all. Today I broke down because I was starving and I hadn’t used the bathroom in god knows how long.

James has mentioned hiring someone. I don’t know how we’d pay them and I don’t know what they would do. Yes, I have issues with control - I like it and I don’t like to give it up.

So with that I am heading upstairs to help James with a crying little one. I can almost tell them apart from their cries and I can definitely tell what their cries mean (hungry, gassy, just cuddle me dammit, etc). I can tell you I feel like a total whiner for complaining about not having time when I had just 1 baby to care for. I still not completely sure I understand how James and I are coping taking care of these 5 girls on our own.

OK, I think James just stuck one of their heads out our bedroom door as a plea for help.

I live in a very small town. Neither James or myself grew up in this town nor do we have any real connection to it. When we were looking for houses we had a pretty strict budget even though the mortgae company approved us for much much more. The house we have lived in for the past five years was the first house we looked at, it was also the cheapest. We didn’t buy the house because it was cheap, although that was a pretty nice bonus. We loved the hardwood floors that covered each room and the so very tall ceilings. It needed (and still needs) some tender loving care but we saw potential.

The potential of our house has been squashed by it’s size. We simply cannot fit 7 people in our little house even with a planned addition. Before I got pregnant with the triplets we had decided to tear down my mother’s small house and build a bigger house on her patch of land. We have ties to that town while we have none in this little town.

I have talked about how small this town is before (links not included as I never got around to restoring my archives after I switched hosts). You may have thought I was kidding about only having 1 police officer, but I wasn’t. This place comes alive once a year - the 4th of July. Ok, it sorta comes alive around Christmas as well but it’s northern Minnesota and it’s too damn cold out to really notice. So instead of loud bands and drunk people walking up and down our streets you get blinded by your neighbors and their clearing out of the Christmas light aisle at WalMart.

Tonight marks the beginning of the festivites. I came up to our bedroom to get some peace and quiet (I am really hiding from James since I think he’d just hand me a baby to hold is he saw I was using my arms and hands for purposes other than burping, feeding or changing diapers - kidding!). Where was I? Oh yes, peace and quiet. Instead of peace and quiet I am listening to a pretty bad country band and a bunch of teenagers who got into Mom and Dad’s liquor cabinet while they were down the street getting drunk listening to a horrible country band.

Part of me dreads this time of year in this little town. The first year we lived here I didn’t know what to expect, but now I do and my headache started yesterday. There are so many things to look forward to such as the lighting of loud fireworks at 3am or the drunk men getting into a fist fight in my front yard. The first year we lived here I was stupid and tried to educated the party goers of the sleeping home owners that surrounded them. Instead of getting an apology and some quiet time I was told to “shut the fuck up, bitch.” It was as if she had read my mind and repeated it back to me.

This year I am going to ignore the idiots and enjoy the fun with my kids - well the two who know what’s going on. Earlier today james and I drove “the big ass SUV that needs a new name which does not include a swear word” down to the baseball field to get a prime viewing spot for tonight’s fireworks. Oh yes, we bought a new vehicle. Another post for another day - but you really can’t fit 7 people into a minvan with 4 of those people are in carseats.

Tomorrow morning we’ll head over half a block to get a spot for the parade. All the while I will be pulling our make-shift double stroller. It was kinda sorta tested out this afternoon but I need to add bungee cords to complete the masterpiece.

Voila! Is it a wagon or a stroller?! How many times will people stop us so they can see the babies?!

Sunday we’ll do it all over again - the parade bit anyway - when we head to my hometown to see my family.

I hope your 4th of July is as interesting as mine surely will be!

Five years ago today James and I tied the knot. It was a day much like today - cold and rainy. Luckily the park we got married in had a beautiful (or at least we thought so) pavilion with a fireplace. After we quickly had our pictures taken James set off to get firewood for the fireplace. By the time I was walking down the aisle there was a roaring fire burning at the end. Who knows if the rest of our guests were warm, but James and I were nice and toasty. Either that or we were running on pure adrenaline.

We’ve been through a lot in these past 5 years. Much more than any other couple. Our relationship has been tested in every which way possible and we’ve come through it all. Sure, there are days I’d love to rip him a new one for not throwing something away, but those days are few and far between. More often than not he makes me laugh and that’s reason enough to keep him around.

That, and he knows how to work power tools. Not that I don’t, but I like watching him work those power tools. *ahem*
Today also marks 4 weeks since the girls were born. How can this past month feel like the longest and shortest month of my life at the same time? Their adjusted age is still negative 2 weeks - we could all be so lucky. On Tuesday they all went to the doctor, a regular thing nowadays, and they all weigh over 5 pounds. They are now getting to be too long for their preemie clothes but swim in their newborn stuff.

People still love to stop us, or rather chase us down, so they can look at the girls. I’ve been tempted to make a print out of frequently asked questions and their answers, but I think I am bitchy enough as it is. I do love answering questions, but sometimes strangers make me feel uneasy. A bit anti-social and a bit mama bear “stay the hell away from my babies!” I suppose.

Feeding still happen every 3 hours and we’re still managing to function on stretches of sleep that last for 2 hours or less at night. This too shall pass - or so we hope.

I’ve uploaded more pictures into my Flickr account - none of them very recent. What can I say? I’ve been a little busy. Speaking of, I need to burp a baby. I’ll leave you with this: My Three Little Bugs

Life with triplets is busy. When people ask how I am I answer them with that one word answer and leave it be. Busy.

We are surviving on sleep that consists of 2 hour stretches at night, if we’re lucky and get all three to wake and eat in a timely manner. James and I have both had stories to share with one another about what the other did or did not do in the middle of the night. Since we’re the types that openly laugh at ourselves we often get a good chuckle and an apology out of those late night happenings.

One of the nasty side effects of this c-section was that it took several very painful attempts to get my spinal in before delivery. Curling up into a ball while sitting and sticking your spine out while pregnant with triplets is damn near impossible. It was made even more difficult with the addition of my own mental meltdown, a meltdown I couldn’t have in front of James as my impossible to understand brain thinks I need to be the strong one. Said brain didn’t think it was a problem to start bawling like a baby in front of a bunch of masked strangers though. Thankfully they all understood and told me to get it out now before James was allowed to come in the room.

Hello, tangent. It’s been a while.

Where was I? Oh yeah, nasty side effects. Anyway, after I had started to recover and was mobile once again after several months of being bed bound I started to notice that I had severe back pain. Not just the “hey, I need to get to the chiropractor and get him to snap my back into place” pain, but shooting hot nerve back pain that originates from the exact spot where my spinal went in. Apparently the sheath that surrounds my spine is irritated. I have no idea if this pain will go away or if it’s just one of those side effects they rattle off to you rather quickly before surgery - you know, when you’re not paying attention to that and are instead beating yourself up over the fact that you wanted to make it just 2 weeks longer.

The events leading up to the birth of the triplets was a series of coincidences that when all totaled up and looked back upon I am left wondering who was looking out for me and the babies. I’ve stopped beating myself up about feeling like I just couldn’t handle being pregnant any more and delivering them at 34 weeks instead of my ultimate goal of 36 weeks. When the wonderful Dr. Wagner went in to fetch the girls he remarked that there was a window into my uterus. Me, being drugged up and not a perinatologist or OB asked him what that meant. He replied that he could see limbs moving around through my uterus.

Later, he came into my room and reassured me that it was a great thing that James made me tell the nurse at the perinatologist’s office that it felt like my c-section scar was being ripped open. That comment lead to an amnio minutes later (an amnio that was scheduled for Tuesday - not that Friday) and their delivery the next day even though their lungs were no mature. You see, if James had no insisted I tell the nurses about my odd feeling the girls and I probably wouldn’t be here to tell the story. My uterus was rupturing.

It wasn’t the mild pre eclampsia or the irritating colestasis that caused the early delivery (although they looked at it as if I was 2 weeks over due since most women have their triplets by 32 weeks). Those things kept me in the hospital and away from my family for a month. It could’ve been much much worse.

So, life with triplets is busy and I am not regretting it one bit. Not even when I would much rather be sleeping instead of changing a 3rd poopy diaper.

Since all 3 of them have been home my picture taking has decreased to nearly none. Picking up the camera is right behind turning on the laptop. Even turning on the laptop is very low on the list of things to do. When it does get turned on it often sits on the side table without being touched. I am learning to schedule my time and get over the fact that 2 of them are going to have to sit in their car seats while I hold and feed the other.

I really don’t have time for the Mommy Guilt I place upon myself. I am fascinated by the fact that I am 5 pounds below where I was when I got pregnant and yet my belly is rather jello-like. I am looking forward to getting on the treadmill again - when I find some energy stored in the basement of my body. Hell, I am looking forward to walking with them outdoors, in public, when we get a double stroller.

Speaking of public, boy do they have some pretty stupid questions.

No, they are not identical. If they were, I’d be all over the news getting free stuff. (this one isn’t so stupid, but it’s asked by every single person who stops us)
Yes, I took fertility drugs. No, this is not your business.

Yes, they are all the SAME age. Although technically Megan is a minute younger than the other two.

Yes, 5 girls. No, my husband isn’t running away to his imaginary garage to never be heard from again.

No, we don’t have a nanny or other live in help. Nor are our mothers staying with us to help with the babies. We’re doing most of it by ourselves and have only acquired 5 more gray hairs as a result. (mine not his)

Yes, we knew we were having triplets. Imagine what it would’ve been like in the delivery room had we not known!

James and I have learned that we are rather antisocial people. Whenever we go out in public, which isn’t often, we are stopped by nearly every woman out there and given looks of shear terror by nearly every man. Abby, on the other hand, is a social butterfly who wants to talk to every person at great length about her sisters whenever we are stopped. Unfortunately, most of these people don’t have the patience to talk to a nearly 3 year old about how she helps by getting out 3 (1-2-3!!) diapers for her parents whenever they need them.

With that, it’s time for another feeding. It’s also time to get the elder 2 to work. Thank god for summer vacation.

If I had time I would write a long post about how completely insane my life is right now. I don’t have the time and I doubt I’ll have it for quite some time as the insanity level will be increased ever so slightly more tomorrow.

Sunday, James and I headed home from Minneapolis with Megan and Lauren. I did the unthinkable (for me) and left one of my girls in the hospital. Katie had an apnea spell (where she stopped breathing for more than 20 seconds and it took a touch from a nurse to get her to start breathing again) on Friday night. Because of that unexpected breathing escapade she bought herself 5 more days in the hospital for observation.

I had no other choice but to come home. My mom had used up all of her family medical leave time and was headed back to work on Monday, so there was no one around to watch the elder girls. Also, James’ parents had dropped him off at the hospital on Wednesday night expecting that Katie would be ready to come home by the end of the weekend (he left the minivan with me in Minneapolis and we needed to drive back together in 1 vehicle so someone could watch the girls).  So home I went, my face rubbed raw by tissues that could easily pass for sandpaper.

When we walked through the door Emma and Abby were so transfixed by their 2 sisters that they didn’t realize I had also walked through the door. Once it was pointed out that I was standing there Abby let out a huge shriek and came running for me. I grunted as I lifted her up for a hug and a kiss forgetting what it was like carry around her 32 pound body.

Tomorrow we’re packing Megan and Lauren up in the minivan once again when we head down to Minneapolis to complete their set. Fear is setting in as I’ve had a week to get used to feeding 2 babies at the same time. Getting used to is being used quite liberally as I struggle through back pain from my spinal to feed them their bottles. I have no idea how I will add one more into the mix.

Insanity times 5. Send help. Preferably free help.

I am still living, tired, but living. The girls are doing great and I hope to have a proper update posted on here soon. I am still staying at the hospital in the parent overnight rooms. I tend to get as little sleep as I can possibly live on and then spend the day in the nursery taking care of the babies. The nurses just love me, they pretty much only have to get up to take blood pressures and check alarms that get set off for little to no reason at all.

Every day when I wake up there is something new going on with the girls. So far, it’s been for the better. They are moving along very quickly and we might be looking at Megan getting discharged tomorrow. Lauren will be right behind her within a day or two. Katie is taking her time figuring out the whole bottle thing and has had some issues with her heart rate dropping - it usually happens after eating so they are thinking it’s reflux. I am hoping that she works her way out of it (I think she only had one episode yesterday) and gets to come home at the end of the week (very hopeful on my part there). If she continues to have episodes she might come home on a heart monitor - but when she would come home is something I am completely unsure about.

I have been posting pictures on my Flickr page when I can. I was doing really well at taking pictures every day, but sometimes the day goes by and when I lay down to sleep I suddenly realize I didn’t have a moment to get any pictures taken that day. If I mention this to any of the nurses they just laugh at me and tell me that it’s only going to get worse once they are all home.

As for me, I am painfully homesick and can’t wait for these ladies to get the hell out of the hospital. The staples were removed from my c-section incision yesterday and I am hoping to get into my fat jeans without any pain today (my scar goes from my belly button down .. you know, right where your zipper is located).

I lose my right to lock my room door in 15 minutes, so I suppose I should get dressed before someone walks in on me and is scarred by the sight of my pale white butt.

I had plans of making this post with pictures, but if I’ve learned one thing it’s to never make plans.

Lauren Ashley, Katherine Irene and Megan Jean were born on Saturday, May 31st at 2:11 and 2:12pm weighing in at 4lbs 1oz, 4lbs 6oz and 4lbs 7oz respectively.

Currently, Megan is the only one left in the special care nursery. She’s doing great on room air and I’ve been able to nurse her (although my milk hasn’t come in completely yet) twice. Lauren and Katie spent the first night in the special care nursery but were moved over across the street to Children’s Hospital so they could be put on c-pap machines. I was able to hold Lauren yesterday and am hoping to be able to hold Katie today.

Sorry this is such a short post, but I gotta get to my babies. After a shower. The thing about hospitals is that there’s a constant parade of doctors, nurses and social workers coming in to talk all the damn time. Try to get food ordered and down your throat between all of that and you’d see why I haven’t been able to tell you the great news! (plus the slowest internet connection known to man)

I’ll have more later - maybe even some pictures!

Sorry I haven’t posted an update in a couple of days. I have been feeling a bit down lately. It’s a combination of being stuck in a hospital (we don’t get along well) and not seeing the kids or James for a week.

Talking to them on the phone helps, or so you would think. Talking to Emma is pretty relaxing as we go over her day and promise to talk later before bed. Talking to Abby is a bit of a circus. She asks if I have a pillow and a blanket and then hands the phone back to James. Seconds later she’s begging to talk to me again only to make sure I am staying in bed like the doctor said before she hands the phone back off to James. A few minutes goes on and she must be able to tell that James and I are wrapping up our conversation wen she asks for the phone again. This time I tell her how silly she is and we laugh. Suddenly, she sounds sad and asks when I am coming to her house and tells me she misses me “berry berry much” and she loves me. My heart shatters into a billion little pieces (I got you beat, James Frey!) and I try to talk to her through my soupy sobs.

I cried for an hour on Tuesday night after that conversation. Pillow cases soaked and slipping over the plastic pillows beneath. Thankfully, no nurses came in during that time either because they were busy with other patients or because they could hear me through the door. Even though they knock on the door once before entering, giving you some illusion of privacy, you’re never really alone. If I managed to doze off a nurse would comment about coming into the room only to find me asleep. I refused to admit that I can’t sleep in hospitals and was glad to get any bit of sleep I could when I could. I am stubborn like that.

Wednesday brought the release from the hospital and a room at the hotel that’s located right next to the hospital. Wednesday also brought James’ grandma’s funeral. She passed away on Monday after having a massive stroke on Friday. Wednesday also brought the arrival of my mother to help take care of me while I am in the hotel. She brought with her a fresh cast on her left arm after falling on Sunday night.

This past week has been a line of dominoes falling over. I look around and wonder what else can go on and how helpless I feel in every situation. James says he’s fine with the passing of his grandma and his mom is apparently handling it well. While it was expected, it was still sudden and sad. My mom broke her arm because she was worried about me after missing a phone call from James. I have no control over my preeclampsia and I don’t know for sure when I’ll have the babies, which drives the control freak in me crazy.

Things I do know are limited. I do know that in a half an our or so James and the kids will bust through the hotel door and keep me company for the weekend. I am trying not to think about Monday when they leave but need to practice biting the inside of my cheek so I don’t break down as they walk through the door without me. We have plans of taking over the hotel pool and maybe hijacking a wheelchair at the Mall of America is boredom sets in.

There are other things I am fairly certain of, as well. I am fairly certain that the babies will be here in a week. Part of me wants them to hold off until Saturday of next week just because it’s my sister’s birthday *cough45thcough* on Friday. Hell, I made my OB hold off Emma’s birth by 2 days so it wouldn’t be on the same day as my other sister. Control freak again.

I am also fairly certain that the babies will spend 3 weeks in the special care nursery so they can learn to eat and grow. That’s another 3 weeks or more that I’ll be away from the girls as I’ll need to be near the babies so I can pump and hold them. I keep telling myself that in the grand scheme of things, this will be a tiny blip on the radar of their lives. It still hurts though.

I do want to say thank you for all of the great comments and emails of well wishes. They’ve helped me keep things pretty calm in my crazy mind. I hope that you all have a great holiday weekend and hug your kids if you got em, or find a kid to hug if you don’t (you know, without being all creepy and stuff, k??).

Copied and pasted from a message I left on a BabyCenter board I’ve been addicted to since finding out about the triplets. I’ve changed some of the bits to make them more understandable, I hope.

Hi All,
Just a quick post from James’ laptop as I’ve finally managed to barely get online. Mention James’ laptop only because I don’t have the roll call on this computer - otherwise I might try to post it - not likely though!! I don’t know when I’ll be able to sit down and concentrate and get it updated and posted.

Why you ask? I am in the hospital. I came in on Friday for my normal NST/BPP and a chat with the peri. I left being shuttled off to a hotel that’s very near to the hospital since they didn’t have any room for me here.

So much has happened in the sat 2 days - some of it not even babies related. My husband’s grandma had a massive stroke (she’s been having smaller strokes for years but is not expected to make it many more days) on Friday and I was down here in Minneapolis with my mom for this appointment. Best laid plans totally go haywire.

In the past 48 hours I’ve had my 2 steroid shots, done a loooooooovely 24 hour urine collection since I am spilling protein, and started having very painful contractions in my back every 12 minutes.

They’ve found room for me in the hospital today and it’s pretty clear I’m not going to be leaving here to rest some more at home.

With the colestasis I was told on Friday that I would deliver in the next 2 weeks since the numbers are rather high. Add in the spilling of protein and the while squiggly lines visiting me from the sides of my eye sight and now they’re worried I am in the beginning stages of pre-e. Wee

So, right now we’re waiting and seeing. Waiting and seeing as far as when they will deliver. I’m not going to get out of the hospital (which I am happy about since it’s a 3 1/2 hour drive home and I don’t really want to deal with contractions that whole way, thank you very much) …. although I am missing my plush bed at home, oh, and the kids too.

So, the babies could be here tomorrow … err today - it’s after 5am and my ambien stopped working (although it did help me sleep though most of those contractions). The babies could wait another 2 weeks. Sometimes doctors are hard to read. Thank god for these awesome nurses who will translate and tell me like it is!

I’d post the traditional picture of me laying in my best beached whale position in a hospital bed while talking on the phone, but I though I should spare you all … at least for a while. I’m sure it will come up once I am severely sleep deprived (like now?! LOL) for a good laugh.

More than likely the pictures of the babies and anything interesting going on about here will end up on my flickr page (it appears Childrens Hospital blocks flickr, although I can’t say I blame them) so we’ll try to post them here: http://picasaweb.google.com/moxygen

I am hoping to keep the babies in for as long as I can but there’s a point where it’s no longer up to me. Not a great feeling for someone who is such a control freak like myself.

I’m sorry I didn’t get to any personals this morning. I hope that everyone is doing well - or as well as you can. I think I am going to try to get in another snooze before they want to start poking and asking even more questions.

So, that’s what I’ve been up to this weekend, how about you??

They gave me ambien so I could get some sleep through the contractions. It helped and I was able to snooze in 2 hour shifts before having to wake myself up and turn to the other side. When I woke up at 4 to use the loo I felt nausea coming back and never made it back to sleep.

I’ll try to keep this updated - especially since twitter is blocked.