A little more whole

I have consistently had 6 hours of uninterrupted sleep in the past week.  The babies have been sleeping beautifully (at night).  There have been a few nights that all 3 slept 12 hours. Unfortunately my bedtime is not between 5-6PM or I would get similar sleep!  I have also been consistently taking a low dose of medication to help with PPD. Between the sleep, medicine, and a good diet I have felt like a new person in the last week.  

My PPD often shows itself in a Dr Jekyll/Mr Hyde kind of way.  It's not something I am terribly proud of but it isn't something I can completely control.  The diet we are on helps.  Getting sleep helps.  Getting a break and time for myself helps.  Having all of those things occur within a day is ideal, But not realistic.   I had a few days, in their entirety, where I was able to stay even keeled, even on days that Taylor was working.  I was so proud.  I think the girls could sense it to.  

Evie and Lucy picked these flowers for me today. They smell so delicious!

These pretty significant developments have prompted me to do a few things that make me happy and have the energy to actually follow thorough with those things!!  Earlier in the week I made the girls dresses.

 Tonight I made about a dozen bows. On a side note, I was never a bow person. Then 3 girls turned into 6. I can't justify spending the money buying them but I would and could totally make them.  Once I got started I couldn't stop. Knowing that the girls are excited about them only adds to my desire to keep making more.

When I am exhausted and overwhelmed Taylor often bares the brunt of it.  He works long and crazy hours then he comes home or wakes up from a night of work and jumps right in.  He has been teaching the girls how to play frisbee. He helps around the house. He puts the big girls to bed almost every night he is home.  He is not without his faults but I cannot imagine another man capable and willing to do this with me!  

Sorry, was that totally cheese ball?  Ha!

Father daughter dance last weekend.

Today at MOPS we made these little notebooks to write down things about our spouse that we love, appreciate, etcetera.  I don't really communicate as much as I should with him along the lines of appreciation, affirmations, etc.  I don't always follow through with the crafts. This one I did. During lunch and dinner I decided to include the girls.  We thought of different things we love about daddy, things he does with us, and so on.

Taylor asked "is Father's Day coming soon?"  Maybe that's telling about how little I say to him to show my appreciation, ha!  

Tonight, once the girls were in bed we had an impromptu date.  He made mango margaritas from scratch and we played Rummikub. We played games all the time before kids. We even played Clue and Apples to Apples just the two of us!  The drinks aren't on our diet and neither was the sushi we got for dinner from China Wok. Who cares!  

I started writing all of this to say that today I have felt more like ME than I have in a long time.  Sleeping babies are amazing!  The time I took to make the bows today, even pinning tutorials on Pinterest filled me up a bit.  Drinking the margaritas (thought not necessary) and playing the game with Taylor also helped me feel a bit more whole.  

Is it bedtime yet?

I started to scoop cottage cheeseinto the   vitamix to make a peanut butter and chocolate smoothie for the girls, per Lucy's request. I then moved onto the peanut butter when Lucy exclaimed,"no peanut butter!" As though I had commited the most heinous of crimes. "I only want ice."  Perplexed I asked, "you only want ice or do you want a smoothie?"  "I want a smoothie and ice but no peanut butter."  I made the smoothie and in the process of grabbing mason jars to serve them in I dropped one in the drawer, breaking it. I left it  there as I served the smoothie, grabbed 3 screaming babies, 2 of which had leaked in their bed and on their clothes.  , the drawer was high and deep enough to keep most little hands out, it could wait. 

Fast forward to changed diapers and relative calm.  I am sitting on the toilet when Evie comes bursting into the room, crying, holding out her finger that is dripping, dripping, with blood. Panicked I yell, "what happened?!"  "I fell!"  I heard no crashes, nothing shattered.   It was quiet and calm, well, for a house of six little girls.  I grabbed the nearest towel, wrapped it around her and told her to hold it there. 

"Show me where you fell."  She walked me to a clean area of the dinning room. "I fell here and I cleaned up the blood."  "You did not fall here. Tell me the truth, where did you fall?"  She walked me to the kitchen and pointed to the floor, there was nothing that could have possibly caused the gash. I looked around, the drawer with the broken glass was open. "Did you touch the glass?"

  "I wanted some water."

  "Some water? Are you kidding me? With a broken glass?  That is not safe! Don't ever touch broken glass."  It took 3 band aids to hold the blood and two nosey sisters chirping "I didn't play with glass."

I held Evie for a while, telling her stories about when she and her sisters were babies.  I cooked dinner earlier in the day to get it out of the way but as she sat in my lap I tossed around the idea of ordering take out.  I did not. The girls then turned on a video while I fed the babies, a stir fry of sorts. They gobbled it up and made a mess in the process.

Fast forward an hour or so to dinner time for the girls. I set up a little table, served them their food, and turned on a video for them while I nursed the babies.  Two seconds after placing the food on the table Evie declared, "I don't like it."  "You have to eat 3 bites then you can be done but no more food until morning."  They each took the tiniest of bites.  By this time all 3 babies were crying bloody murder and I was pissed that the big girls refused to eat. I turned off the video and gave them a list of things to tidy in the toy room.  In the midst of barking orders I latched two screaming babies only to leave the third screaming and clawing  at the  others.  Meanwhile Josie was right  next to me "phone. Want it."  "No Josie, you can't have my phone."  She says it over and over and over. Each time I respond I grew increasingly annoyed, after all I still had a hungry baby screaming. I couldn't take it anymore I erupted "NOooooooooo Joooooosieeeeeee! Stoooooopp!!!"  She immediately stayed to cry, Evie swooped in and carried her off to comfort her.

It's 6:05 PM and the countdown is on to bedtime!  the third and final baby is almost done nursing then it's off to bed for the babies. 25 more minutes and I can put Josie to bed, and technically 55 minutes for the older two. But they have very little concept of time so 6:30 bedtime it is for EVERYONE.  

Solids

My older girls began solids between 6-7 months. For some reason I was always so excited to begin this next stage. Each time I was in this beginning solids stage I would tell myself, "next time I won't start so soon. What's the point? It's messy and nothing is convenient as the boob." Yet Everytime 6 months rolled around I was at it again, starting the solids journey, even though they were still getting most of their nourishment from my milk.

Then came the triplets. Other moms said to wait until their adjusted 6 month birthday. So were I to start solids it would need to wait until 7.5 months. At 7.5 months the babies weren't sitting unassisted. So I thought, once they are sitting we will begin. 8 months came and went with no sitting. 9 months came and Abby became our first and only sitter. I fed her once or twice at the table but that was it.  

 

The moms were always talking about the best way to feed the babies: booster seats, high chairs, or feeding table.  I could not wrap my head around the best way to feed the babies.  I was hoping some triplet mom out there could shed light on THE BEST WAY to feed them. We did booster seats and trays in the past with the big girls but I wasnt convinced it was the best way. So I explored making my own triplet feeding table, other families had done it, don't seem too tricky.  But then I had to somehow fit TWO dining room tables in my dining room, spend the money, and make it.  Seemed like a lot considering I wasn't convinced it wa the best way to go. So I continued just to breastfeed. 

 And then there is the mess that comes with solids.  I have always done some variation of baby led weaning.  In some ways it was easier and cheaper.  I didn't buy baby food and I typically fed the baby frm my plate or tossed some easy finger foods on their tray, like sweet potatoes, avocado, blueberries, etc. it was messy but I preferred that to spoon feeding every time a baby are solids.  So I hada frame of reference for the mess of solids and I was not ready to deal with it.  I was not ready to think about and preparing food for THREE more mouths. So I kept nursing the babies.

In the back of my mind I knew there was a slight possibility that introducing solids might help the babies sleep longer. This was never the case with the big girls so I was not completely convinced.  

At their 9 month check out their iron tested a little low. Their ped wrote a script for iron.  I knew I would not remember to give it to them so then I started to think that maybe introducing solids wouldn't be a horrible idea.  

As it became more of a reality that we would begin solids I grew increasingly anxious with each passing day.  I had not yet discovered the perfect way to feed three babies. I could not wrap my head around thinking about food for three more mouths. And the clean up involved was enough to stop me in my tracks.  It was too much. It seems silly, I'm sure. By my plate was already full (no pun intended). I was already barely keeping my head above water.  Last Wednesday night as I was looking on craigslist for tables to make a feeding table I just started balling. I couldn't do it.  I couldn't handle one more thing.  

Thursday, on a whim, I visited my friend Cathy who specializes in PPD.  I needed a symathetic ear.  The first words out of my mouth were "I feel paralyzed."  I then went into everything I played over in my head about feeding the babies.  She echoed my feelings "it's too much for anybody. You are overwhelmed. It's ok."  I left our short time together ready to begin solids. We didnt devise the perfect plan to feed the babies. We didn't really address how to handle the mess. Yet for some reason I felt ok to begin. Some how it freed me from any unspoken expectations I had placed on myself.  If I needed to buy baby food, even though I didn't do that with the others, it was OK. If I needed to give them something frozen rather than cooked it was OK. It was going to be OK!  I ordered replacement straps for the booster seats. I realized there was no need to find the perfect solution, it would never happen. 

So, the babies have been doing solids for about six days. Twice a day, i might add. It hasn't been as bad as I thought.  I have plenty of bibs from all my craft show days.  I bought 24 sturdy wash cloths to be sure I had enough to keep things clean.  I have cleaned their chairs and trays immediately following meals. This was something I rarely did before. But I knew if I didn't deal with it immediately it would become more clutter and more mess that weighed me down and leave me feeling paralyzed. So sometimes the babies are crying as I clean. I reassure them that it is OK and I that mommy is coming. I know that if I don't deal with the mess right then that there would be an emotional breakdown later in the day. That is my reality right now.

Joy

The past 14 months has been the most challenging period of my life to date. I was fortunate to have virtually no complications during the 34 week pregnancy but that did not mean it was easy.  

In my previous pregnancies I took a lot for granted: of course there is always a heart beat, of course things grow and develop in utero as they should. I got pregnant and just waited until somewhere between 40-42 when the baby would be born. Never a second thought about bumps or risks along the way. And then I got pregnant with triplets.  Then I began to realize how much I took for granted, or rather was just never part of my reality.  One day the babies seemed fine and the next we were looking at an emergency procedure that had no guarantees. And then breathing a sigh of relief Everytime Sunday arrived, the babies and I had made it one more week.  Never in a prior pregnancy did 24w, viability or vday as we call it, ever even enter my thinking. But when I hit vday with these girls I knew if they were born then they could live. The 34w was emotionally draining and physically demanding. I felt full terms when I was only 24w and I carried them 10 more long weeks.

The birth was not easy and recovering from a cesarean is hard. It is painful. And then my babies were under the care of strangers. They were highly qualified, but strangers none the less.  I had never spent more than a moment away from my older girls once the were born. No one but me was ever responsible for their well being. And now these three babies that I grew in my womb I had to hand over the care of them to someone else. I experienced detachment. For nearly two weeks they never really felt like My babies.

And then came the day to day care of three little babies as well as caring for my older three, my husband, my marriage, my he, oh, and myself.  There was worry about finding just the right kind of person to care for the babies, my older girls, help around the house.  Letting go and trusting others was not easy. We went through a number of nanny/sitters to find just what fit our family and our needs. I was constantly re-evaluating our needs and what would be the best.  I experienced exhaustion in a whole new way. I saw parts of me emerge that were not healthy. I struggled and continue to struggle with PPD. I have had more sicknesses in the past 14 months than I have likely had in the past 14 years. No joke. Daily I am worried about all my children, as every parent does. Yes, our Holidays will be filled with so much joy years from now, but it is hard right now. Little hearts are so sensitive and need a lot of tending to and new help adjusting to this new normal. Their world has been turned upside down and they need help navigating it, understanding and making sense of their emotions and actions. It is not easy.

This morning as the triplets were playing in the kitchen floor and smiling every time we made eye contact my heart said "it has been worth it."  I will continue to be pushed to my limits, I will lose my wits, in the midst of it I will likely just go through the motions, and I may forget to find the joy in this season. Today, however, I am thankful that I can see and know joy from this season of my life.

A prayer for restoration and healing

The last few weeks have been very challenging, emotionally and mentally.  I've been battling negative thoughts, harboring resentment, and the like.  My temper has been short, at best. My compassion seems to have taken a sabbatical. I have not been caring for the big girls in the way I know I have been called to do. I have most definitely been unkind and unforgiving to myself and my body. This only perpetuates a cycle of emotional and mental lows, resentment, and a kind of care that my girls do not deserve.  Just yesterday I told my sister that I felt like I was intentionally poisoning myself by what I was feeding my body.  Not with actual poison control poison. ;) In the last day or so I have been asking The Lord to help me find joy again.  I have asked Him to deal with my negative thoughts. Two nights ago I decided to embark on a healthier way to eat; one that should help restore me physically which will no doubt help with the emotional component. For the first time, last night, I asked The Lord to help me take better care of myself.  Of course self care and good health both emotionally and physically won't change on a dime.  It has just been one day of a new way of thinking about how I nourish my body and I had a headache all day. Of course!  Ha!  But my entire being needs it and deserves it. My children and my husband deserve a healthy (body, mind, and soul) mom and wife. 

This is fire water: ACV, freshly squeezed lemon, salt, finger, pepper, cayenne and honey.

And because motherhood, with all it's joys, is damn hard.

Bonnie is at it again!

After a two month "sabbatical" Bonnie has decided that she would like to begin nursing again (just shy of 7mos).  So for the first time in their 6.5mos existence all three of my babies are nursing at the same time! 

When I was pregnant I wasn't sure I even wanted to nurse. After they were born I wasn't sure all of them would even be able to nurse.  If you had told me this would be my breastfeeding journey I am pretty certain I would NOT have embarked on it.  

These 6.5 months have been hard. I used pumping as a refuge when I could not face my family, my house, my other responsibilities. Pumping, as much as I had my days and weeks where I hated it, allowed me to maintain my supply and take 5+ months to get each baby to nurse.  My disdain for it fueled my desire to get those little babies to latch. There were days I could not even bring myself to put on the pumping bra. I would just sit for upwards of an hour for the strength and energy to do it.

Measuring out feedings is horrible to a mom's confidence and just brings forth doubt.  Too much. Too little. You will make them sick with that much. They won't thrive if you don't give them more. Every. Single. Time I made bottles I was unsure. 8-10 bottles a day x 3. That is too much doubt for any mom.

So, I guess now a new chapter begins. All 3 can nurse. All 3 can take bottles. And of course they all started nursing when teething began. It is a blessing because the boob is an easier soother. It's a curse because they gnaw, yank, and wrestle with it. This weekend it's just me and the babies. Taylor took the big girls to visit his family. What good timing. So I can lose sleep at night and rest during the day. When they return I will reasses.  As I am typing this I am brainstorming ways to nurse these babies, get a bit of sleep, and not got bonkers on my older three because I am sleep deprived. I think  it also means we need to connect the queen to the king bed because there is just not enough room for 3 nursing and semi mobile babies, me and Taylor (when he joins us on his days off).

God's goodness and Betsy

God is good y'all! (And yes, this northern girl did, in fact, say y'all)

On the 16th is the anniversary" of discovering my singleton pregnancy was in fact a trio. On the 14 they will be 6mos old. I'm celebrating 12 days of exclusively nursing Abby (except for a one night get away with Taylor). And the best of all Betsy is smiling, laughing, and squealing for the first time since August! 

Betsy has had a raw neck for about two months, maybe longer. For a while we treated it as strep and yeast. Then it was eczema. Then it was eczema that becMe infected. 5 different types of antibiotics in 5 weeks. She had an allergic reaction to one drug.

The dermotolgist and pediatrician had different opinions about what it was and how to treat it. All the while Betsy was miserable. She had crying spells that lasted hours, usually in the middle of the night. She was doing Occupational Therapy and her therapist noted that she fought raising her arms, her shoulders were stuck to her neck. She was a wreck. Well, her skin has cleared up drastically. She is smiling more than she has in her short little laugh. She talks to herself, squeals actually, all day long. Nearly six months old and I feel like I am just seeing this other side of Bitsy Betsy.

I should add she had also had reflux for quite sometime and was a fitful eater.

Betsy's ability to nurse has been non-existent.  I have written about this in past blogs. Essentially I didn't put her to breast until 3 weeks. She was so small and fought it so I didn't spend much time working on it.  In July I discovered she had tongue/lip tie. We began doing myofacial with an  occupational therapist and I visited with Cathy, a LC. Betsy definitely had an aversion to my breasts. My goal for Betsy would be for her to be able to be at my breast without crying. I accomplished this goal 12 days ago, it took about 45 minutes.

 I assumed Betsy would never latch and nurse. Two out of three ain't bad, right?

Yesterday Betsy was "released" from OT. Her shoulders were no longer glued to her neck, she was laughing Everytime we raised her arms. The rash or Whatever she had was even getting in the way of that! I had a thought in the back of my head that maybe now that her skin had cleared she would nurse.  So, today on a whim I gave it a shot.

An older friend from church was over to help however I needed her to. She was outside playing with the big girls when Betsy woke from her nap. I thought I would try to nurse her and would try it outside. Peaceful. Calm. She screamed at me.

Doesn't matter how many times a baby refuses to nurse it sucks every single time. No pun intended. I wasn't going to give up but I decided to move the production inside. She pitched a fit for a few minutes. And then she stopped and just left my nipple in her mouth. All the while I sang to her. And then she did it, she began to nurse. Like, really nurse. I couldn't believe it. I began to cry.

And then she pitched another fit. But then she nursed again. I began to pray "thank you Lord. Thank you for answered prayers. Thank you for your faithfulness."  She nursed and pitched a fit for a while. Then she stopped, looked at me and grinned. She was done. She was satisfied. She nursed!  She nursed again later. I was in the midst of cooking dinner so we nursed sitting on the kitchen floor and nursed flipping burgers.

And she just went with it. My Betsy is nursing. My Betsy who cried just being at my breast is nursing. My Betsy who I resigned to the likely fact would never nurse is nursing. My Betsy who gave us a scare in the womb is nursing.  My Betsy whose cord was barely attached to her very small portion of a shared placenta is nursing. My Betsy who is just beginning to smile, laugh and squeal for the first time in months is nursing. My Betsy is nursing!

God is good. God was good. He was good when Betsy fussed. He was good when she screamed at my breast. He was good when I fed her milk from another mom.  He was good when we couldn't figure out what was wrong with her neck and arms. He has always been good. He is just finding more ways to show me how good He is. God is good!