A thank you to my donors!

When I found out baby #4 was actually 4-6 I cried for all kinds of reasons. One reason I cried was over breastfeeding.  With my 3 singletons it wasn't even a question in my mind that I wouldn't breastfeed.  I was fortunate to have an abundant supply, only 1 brief run in with mastitis, 1 milk bleb, and 1 baby who struggled with latch for 5w. Most of the time I enjoyed it. They night weaned themselves around 7 months.  It was convenient and of course had health benefits. So when I heard "you have triplets" I cried out of guilt. I didn't think I could breastfeed 3 babies and I didn't think I wanted to breastfeed 3 babies.  I crie because I thought I would not be able to provide something for my babies because there were 3 of them. It wasn't their fault. It wasn't my fault.  Breastfeeding was an important part of how I mothered my babies. I didn't know how to mother without the boob. So I cried.

A few weeks into my pregnancy I discovered a small world of mothers who pumped and nursed for their triplets. This gave me hope that it was physically possible.  I saw that there were a lot of ways that moms fed their babies: a combo of formula and boob, bottle and boob, donor milk, breastmilk til they came home from the nicu, breastmilk til they reached their due date, and so on.  All these options have me hope and allowed me to think outside the box.  So I set my goal for feeding the triplets.  I wanted them to have breastmilk their first year but it didn't matter as much to me how they got it.  The milk could come to them in the form of a bottle with my pumped milk or donor milk. It could come with them directly at the breast. And I jokingly said, if they have to get it off the floor then so be it.

Weeks before we even made it to viability I had donor milk in my freezer and more donors lined up waiting to fill my needs.  Before these babies were even born I had more than 2 shelves in our large freezer filled with milk from donors.

When I struggled to pump enough or find the time to pump I had names and numbers of moms I could contact. I had moms sending me messages asking about my supply, asking if they could donate.  Sometimes moms would be out and about and have just 3oz and would offer to bring it by the house.  Moms picked up milk from other moms to bring it to me.  These moms, mostly friends, all wanted to help me give these babies breast milk.

Like I said, most of my donors were my friends. One time or another we had seen each other's boobs while nursing.  With some we shared personal information about our marriages, birth traumas, and other intimate details.  I knew these women.  I knew if their milk was good enough for their baby it was good enough for mine.  But for donors I did not know they always offered up their diet, if they occasionally ate fast food, how many cups of coffee, any medical history that might have been relevant. In the end I had so many women offering to help that I could turn down anything I did not feel comfortable with. But truth be told, there wasn't a single mom's offer to help that raised any red flags.

One evening at LLL with the babies there were 4 women in a room of about 12-15 who at some point had given milk to the babies.  I wonder if the babies could smell the familiar milk on those moms.  

Nursing, pumping, the use of donor milk, and providing formula are all very personal decisions.  It's not for any of us to say how or what a mother should feed her baby. 

 I know some people looked at me sideways when they discovered I gave my babies donor milk. It's not for everyone, I get that.  The babies are 11 months tomorrow and I know now I will be able to reach my goal of 1 year of breastmilk. I also know that without my donors my goal would not have been met.  I am pretty sure I could have pumped enough milk in those first 6 months before the babies latched, but at what cost?  At the cost of not spending anytime with any of my six kids?  At the cost of falling even deeper into depression?  My donors saved what little sanity I had. My donors bought me time with my kids. My donors bought me much needed dates with my husband. My donors gave me a few extra hours of sleep. My donors afforded me bi-monthly fellowship with other moms.  My donors took the pressure off. My donors allowed me to work at latching all my babies. My donors got me to 12 months of breastmilk to my 3 babies.  It took a community to nourish these babies.  

I wish I could do more to show my appreciation for the thousands of ounces of milk offered by the 20-30 moms. 

Thank you!  Thank you for the amazing gift you gave to my girls and to me!!  Thank you!  A thousand times over, thank you!  

And now here are some things to know/ask/expect with donor milk:

* I have been a recipient and a donor of milk so I know first hand what goes into giving and receiving.

1)  I would not pay for donor milk unless It is coming from a milk bank.  I would not trust the milk coming from an individual wanting to make money.

2). When receiving milk offer any of the following: money for gas, milk storage bags, breast pads, ingredients for lactation cookies, supplements, a meal, a Starbucks gift card, shout out on social media, photos of the baby receiving the milk.

3). I asked these questions about the mother before accepting milk: diet, drink, smoke, meds, supplements, date milk was expressed, storage.

4) I have tasted just about every milk donation. I figured if I wasn't willing to taste it then I shouldn't offer it.

Today I made a bottle because I was at my wits end and I'm appreciative for that option!

Evie rescued me.

The girls tricked me, I thought we were out of the woods. We aren't. This evening as babies were crying to be fed and big girls asking for this that and the other Evie came to my rescue. 

She said  "I can help you with the housework."

At first I was annoyed, I wasn't trying to do any housework. I was trying to shut kids up by nursing, with pizza, or a video. The next thing I know she is picking up toys and pillows.

Me: evie, it's ok. Eat some food and watch the video.

Evie: it's ok

She proceeds to pick up dishes from the table and take them to the sink.

Evie: I can wash the dishes

Me: evie, it's ok. You don't have to. I really appreciate it. You are being so kind and helpful to me.

She gathers more dishes, fills the dishwasher, and asks for help to put in the soap.

Me: Evie you don't have to do this. I will do it when you all go to bed. Thank you. You are so helpful.

She is 5 years old.

When Lucy was born I tandem nursed the girls. Several months post partum I started developing PPD.  Through counseling we determined it might be best for me if I weaned Evie.  I knew for a while it's what I should do but couldn't do it. But after a counseling session I just knew it had to be done. So I did it that same day. She sat on my lap and I told her "mommy doesn't feel good. I can't nurse you anymore."  At barely 2 years old she turned around and hugged me. I cried in her arms. I told her I was sorry. She hugged me and she made it ok.

She was 2 years old.

After my Grandma died I read Evie a story before bed, Nana Upstairs, Nana Downstairs. Toward the end my eyes began to tear up and my voice quivered. She was in my lap and could not see me. Yet she asked,"mama sad?"  To which I replied, "yes." She hugged me.

She was 2 years old.

At some point in the last year I lost it, it's happened so many times I can't pinpoint specifics. I went to the stairs and sobbed. Evie said to Lucy, "mama is sad." They both came and sat next to me. I apologized. "I'm sorry I yelled. Mommy is so tired. I'm sorry." They forgave me.

She was 4 years old.

Tonight I yelled at Lucy after she threw up. I yelled at Josie for whinning about who knows what while she was running a 104temp.  I grumbled at the babies because this evening they finally decided to be awake often and be fussy the entire time.  I am definitely not winning compassionate mother after my stellar performance tonight. 

I began this post with the intention of talking about how everyone is still sick, that now vomiting has entered into the equation, that Josie has had two days of a fever of 103, 104, and 105.  I was going to talk about how it's too much, which it is.  But as I started to write about all of this I remembered that Evie rescued me earlier and that I wanted to share.  then the other memories of her caring for me came to mind. 

It is really my prayer that this sensitivity she has toward others would be protected and nurtured.  She is definitely a gift to me.

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.