2016 check-in

Taylor and i talked on tbe phone tonight for a long time while he was at work. We both remarked that we haven't done that in a long time.  In fact, long and meaningful conversations are a rare thing these days.  After our conversation i came across this blog post that was shared in my triplet group.  That inspired me to write this post tonight, the first post in nearly 9 months.

  Taylor asked me tonight on the phone do you think we will be happy again? I said I don't like to think about it because it makes me cry.  And it's not like we are miserable, disatisfied, or any of that.  But everything feels like work and I don't see any sign of that letting up.  When there is a break in the day  my first choice isn't usually so spend time with my kids and it isn't even to spend time with Taylor.  That also makes me want to cry.  None of this means im not thankful ALL THE TIME for each of my kids and my husband or that I don't love them. I do love them.  I find myself regularly wishing the days away, wanting to move onto the next stage. That also makes me cry. 

I post a lot of victories and awesome things because I use Facebook to document my life. It's my scrapbook.  In these days that are so long and hard I need to be able to look at something I posted a few weeks ago or this morning to remind me that it's not as horrible as I am playing over in my head, or to be an encouragement to myself that I can do it.

  My days are really hard, I fly by the seat of my pants, my bed is never made, my nightstand is cluttered with food wrappers, dirty dishes, and empty bottles of wine that have accumulated and not been dealt with. I don't mop my floor. I am not sure I've dusted my house. Ever.  I knowingly wear clothes that are stained.  I yell.  I am addicted to facebook.

I would feel horrible if someone thought I had my act together all the time, that I was a "Pinterest mom," or didn't struggle.  I wouldn't want someone to think I'm disingenuous.  honestly, sometimes I want to look like I have my act together because I don't want to be judged for my family size.  A lot of times i am self conscious about my family size because I want people to not dread us being around or regret inviting us somewhere.  I don't want my family to be a burden to anyone.  I am also keenly aware of the relative uniqueness of the make-up of my family and I don't ever want to overshadow another mom or family.  If i do i promise i am not trying to. My kids, my family, and my circumstances aren't any more special than yours.

And another thing, if I'm lamenting about my circumstances please do not think I that *I think* I have the monopoly on hard circumstances.  We ALL have aspects of our lives that are hard and what is hard to one person is a non issue to someone else. When I share anything, good or bad, it is not done to minimize you or your circumstances.  People tell me all the time: i don't know how you do it, you are amazing, etc. I promise you there are countless things in your life that I could not do. You are also amazing.  You are a bad ass. 

A mom's body

It is hard not to be hard on myself for how I look.  Things are not tight or toned.  There is muscle, but it is hidden but sometimes it makes a brief appearance.  Since weaning the triplets my body has changed even more.  I've gained more weight and things have loosened even more.  But earlier today I shared a photo with other moms of my post baby body.  Six kids in 4.5 years would change ANY woman's body.  And so I have to tell myself that what I accomplished since I first got pregnant is an amazing thing.  What my body has done is no small feat.  It has also taken a beating.

February 2009: Pregnant with Evelyn.  I gained between 35-40#.  I had a 34 hour labor that ended in a cesarean that at the time was not medically necessary.  Within a week of bringing her home I developed mastitis.  So to remedy that I pumped and nursed simultaneously for over 6 months and nursed for 2 years.  We had to buy a full size freezer to store all the milk I made.  Already, my body was working overtime.

July 2010: only 8 months post partum with Evelyn and I got pregnant with Lucy.  I gained between 35-40# again.  I nursed her throughout the pregnancy.  With Lucy I had a 22 hour unmedicated VBAC.  I tandem nursed the two girls until Lucy was 6 months and Evelyn was two.  After Lucy I was bigger than I had ever been.  I was depressed.  From March (when Lucy was born) until about November I managed to lose about 75#.  The number on the scale wasn't my dream weight but I felt fabulous and so I was OK.  I nursed Lucy until she was about 13 months.

July 2011: I discovered I was pregnant with Josie.  This time I started my pregnancy nearly 20# less than the others and I was eating much better.  I still managed to gain the same 35-40#.  She was born at 39w at home with my midwife.  I started exercising about 3m post partum and felt really good.

September 2013: Josie was only 6 months old and I discovered I was pregnant with #4.  In October I discovered #4 was actually the triplets.  I continued to nurse Josie until 3 weeks shy of her first birthday/18 weeks pregnant with the triplets.  My body ached and hurt through most of the pregnancy.  But other than aches I had an uneventful pregnancy. I gained 60# and after the babies were born I put on another 5-7# due to water retention and BP issues.  I carried the babies to 34w2 when I went into spontaneous labor.  I had another cesarean.  Twelve hours after the babies were born I began pumping like my life depended on it.  those first few days I would pump 30 minutes at a time while only producing less than 1 ounce.  yet I pumped on.  I pumped for 6 months.  I nursed exclusively for 6 months.  I weaned the babies completely 2 weeks after they turned 1.  I managed to lose all my baby weight about 6 weeks before they turned one.  And then as I began to wean the weight started to come back. I am now about 1.5 weeks out from not nursing anyone.  My chest has changed dramatically.  My stomach seems to have expanded.  I went to the store to buy bigger clothes, a size that only a few months back I purged and donated to a local charity.  A girlfriend said it's better to be in clothes you don't spill out of. So I followed her advice. I feel good in them.  I just try not to pay attention to the size.

Anyway, so today I posted a photo of my post partum body and in the comment wrote: "6 babies in 4.5 years and I just weaned my triplets who are almost 13 months." Lately I have been feeling pretty down about myself.  It's my own insecurities and no amount of encouraging words from my husband, friends or strangers will change that.  That's ok.  But today as I posted that picture I had a strong sense of pride in my body. My body grew 6 babies and 3 of them at the same time!  My body produced nourishment for 6 babies for more than a year for each of them.  My body, my extra layers of skin and fat, my stretch marks, my scars, my stretched out chest, they all tell a story.  They tell a story of betrayal, trust, worry, fear, pain, joy, nourishment, life, and of blessings.

Just another morning

Two babies are strapped into their high chairs fussing.  They are mad at me because they eat their food at a faster rate than I can have more food cooled down and cut. Simultaneously Evie and Lucy are making their own bowls of cereal which surprisingly isn't making a huge mess. And then there is Josie sitting bare bottom on our dinning room table drinking milk right out of the carton. All the while Taylor is on the phone alternating with our home owners insurance and a hotel working out arrangements for next week.

Hotel? Insurance? What?  Yes, we are packing up and relocating to a hotel next week.  The plumbers are pulling up the floor in the kitchen and jack hammering the slab to get to the issue.  They are estimating it to be a 3 day job but they won't know for sure until it begins. 

Work begins Monday and so Monday we "move in" to a 2 bedroom/2bath suite at Hilton Homewood Suites. It comes with a full kitchen, a "dinning room", living room, 3 TVs, free hot breakfast and dinner, pool, etc.  one down side to this is I'm doing it solo since Taylor will be working his 3 nights.  But I think we will be OK. We have homeschool co-op Monday, Bible Study Tuesday and MOPs on Wednesday, plus the pool, novelty of a hotel, and did I mention 3 TVs?  Call me crazy but I am actually looking forward to it. 

Between now and then it's life as usual.  The big girls and I went to Home Depot for outdoor swings. We were a bit of a hot mess, between the four of us we had mismatched shoes, a leotard, sequin dress, and greasy hair.

(I didn't even realize I had mismatched shoes until we were at the store. I grabbed the first shoes I could find, of course they weren't matched, so I could play in the yard and protect my feet from stinging caterpillars. Then while we were out there I said, "let's go to Home Depot and get swings."  And so, there's the story of my shoes.)

 We had some stares and some comments, nothing bad "oh too cute" "little princess" and I think the first worker we saw thought we may have walked into the wrong store, lol.  Afterward we walked to the "chicken nugget store" and ate inside. Special treat!!

 Oh, I'm also having a garage sale at my house this weekend. That may be a little crazy but it feels sooo good to get crap out of the house and is even prompting me to clean out the attic. Lol.  There is very rarely a dull moment in our home. We just kind of roll with it and thankfully Taylor is usually on board with supporting my rearranging, organizing, and other such projects.

There are no tricks.

Just minutes ago I was nursing Abby and watched a memorial video for a fellow triplet mom who lost her 3 boys on 3/31/14 just days before viability and exactly 2 weeks before my girls were born.   As I watched the video so many thoughts ran through my mind: that could have very easily been me.  Why did it happen to that mom?  I broke Abby's latch and walked her up the stairs to return her to bed.  Halfway up the stairs  I squeezed her soft bare skin, held her face to mine and just sobbed.  

I cannot even imagine.  Since the Fall of 2013 I have come to know so many mothers of triplets who have lost 1 or all of their babies.  Some moms lost all 3 while still pregnant. Some gave birth to healthy 34w babies only to lose one days later.  While some moms have not lost any of their trio they struggle with chronic health issues, life threatening illnesses, surgery after surgery, months and months in the NICU, and much more.  

Months ago a newly pregnant mom of triplets joined our community of moms expecting in 2014.  In her introduction she said her provider had "tricks up her sleeve" to get her to 35+weeks with the babies.  There are no tricks in a triplet pregnancy.  

My babies and I did not make it to 34w because of anything I did.  The weekly meals of grassfed liver, smoothies with hemp, gallons upon gallons of whole milk, a caring and knowledgeable OB, staying active with my big girls, my previous healthy pregnancies; none of those things are why I carried the girls to 34w.  They are not the reason I had a short NICU stay with feeders and growers.  Did those things hurt?  Probably not.  But I know plenty of women who did all those things too and then some then found themselves praying desperately to stay pregnant until viability because then the babies could be cared for.  So many women had textbook, beautiful pregnancies until one day their placenta abrupted, or pre-e developed, or there was no longer a heartbeat.  There is no trick.  There is no secret.  There is nothing I did or did not do.

34w

Having virtually no control is terrifying and humbling.  I don't know why my pregnancy, the birth, and their first year went the way it did.  I am no more blessed, no more healthy, no more a better mother, no more strong in my faith, no more wise.  I did nothing.  I am nothing.  As I sit here writing this Psalm 139 once again comes to me, just as it did when I was only weeks pregnant with the girls. 

All I know to say to the Lord is Thank You.  

14w

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10 days old and holding all 3 for the first time

Changes

The changes in my children today hit me like a ton of bricks.  

Big Change 1: This morning Lucy came rushing into our room and exclaimed "Evie has a tooth that is loose."  Evie has been imagining losing tooth forever. She has asked on numerous occasions to go to the dentist so he can pull out her teeth.  On any other day I would have brushed it off as another made up reality but not today.  She is 5.5 a loose tooth is very much a real possibility. I was excited, perhaps not as much as Lucy or Evie.  

Them as the day went on it dawned on me that she actually has a loose tooth, there will very soon be a gap in her mouth.  When she got her first baby tooth i got sad because I knew her smile would never be the same. For the last 4 years or so I have grown to love her little girl smile. But in a matter of days, maybe weeks, her smile will change and it will never be the same. I'm not a huge fan of the few big teeth among baby teeth, it's such an awkward yet unavoidable stage of life.  Fortunately Evie's mouth is easing me into this next phase because it's a bottom tooth.  

Big change #2: Today I started weaning the babies. (Keep your opinions about that to yourself).  I told myself if I could make it to a year of nursing/pumping that I would stop and that would be OK.  This will likely be longest weaning process ever so as to avoid mastitis.  It has been such a long, challenging, draining, exhausting, painful, journey. I am glad I pushed to get the babies to nurse but it was not easy.  I am not sure I would do it all again. But I also don't know what else I would have done instead.  I enjoyed seeing the babies hold hands as they nursed tandem. I giggled when the third baby would try to crawl into my lap and push a baby out of the way. I cried tears of joy when each baby latched.  I also writhe in pain a significant amount of time because I have Raynauds (think sharp, burning pain during the latch and hours following).

  This process is bittersweet.  I have been pregnant or nursing for more than 6 years.  In the early months after the babies were born I was not ready to say our family was complete. Some women just know and I envy that clarity.  But as the babies have grown it has become more clear (although not yet crystal clear) that I am done. My uterus is closed.  So that means no more nursing babies in my future. I likely wouldn't even be entertaining the idea of weaning if #4-6 had only been #4. She likely would have been my longest nursing child. But it's not so simple to keep nursing for sentimentality or even nutritionally when there are THREE wanting it. I know moms who extended breastfed their trio and I think it is wonderful. But it is not the right decision for me, for this season, or even for my whole family. It is time for me to take care of my body, to replenish it from the years of growing babies, of sustaining life, and providing the nourishment for 6 lives in addition to my own.  

Big change 3: the babies are 2 weeks from their first birthday. Ok, so this isn't technically a change. But today we took family and 1 year photos so this has definitely been on my mind. In the midst of taking photos Bonnie clapped for the first time. All 3 babies sat up for a long time like pros.  Yesterday in the tub Bonnie and Abby tried pulling up and Betsy was basically tryin to swim, head under and all.

 Where are my little babies who once fit so easily 3 across in my arms?  It is surreal.

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.