Verbal Poo in Triplicate

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.