Four Months of Freedom In Shreveport, LA

 Most people celebrate the First of May in the “Camelot” fashion seeing it as the whole, “It’s May! It’s May! That lusty month of May…That lovely month when everyone goes blissfully astray” concept. 

In my household, however, the first of May is a day I celebrate by loading up my trio and going out. Where, might you ask? It really doesn’t matter to us where we go, just that we do!

You have to understand, that my trio was born six week early and that was as far as I was allowed to carry them. 

So for us, they were “Full term triplets” but to the rest of the world and medically they received a very large “Preemie” label.

Now, being a preemie means a lot of things, but being a “Multiple Preemie” means ever so much more.

First of all, being born six weeks early means that my babies were about 4 pounds each (Vivie @ 3lbs 15 oz. ,Kian & Kai each at 4 pounds 15oz) actually large considering that the trio shared a very cramped space for a very long time.

Although they were large to me, their tiny body’s still were just not developed as much as a full-termed singleton baby would be. 

This meant that they are more susceptible to catching colds or even worse diseases really easily. 

I was given explicit instructions on keeping them AWAY from large crowds and to keep prying hands away from them. 

This was to be much easier said than done, as I was soon to find out!

Being that my trio was born in March, they received their RSV shots in the hospital prior to discharge. 

I was under strict orders to avoid places like the mall and grocery store if at all possible. Yes this included daycare as well. 

They remain at risk for this disease that can land them back in the NICU until after they turn two. 

Lucky for me, RSV season lasts from September through April and the kids were discharged from the NICU right after Easter last year.

As I don’t really have anybody who can go shopping for me, so I had to be very careful whenever I went out! 

This was easy during the summer months because my twelve year old would sit in the car with the air conditioning on while I would run in & buy what we needed or I could just go at night after the kids were in bed.

The problem began when RSV season hit in September. It was really interesting to find out from my doctor’s office that the risk for this disease is so great that I actually qualified for a home health nurse that would come to my home to administer the vaccines for the babies each month starting in September and lasting through April. 

The insurance covers this because in theory it keeps us from having to sit in the waiting room at the doctor’s office just to have the shots administered, thus exposing the kids to goodness knows what types of diseases.

Oddly enough, I found that once September rolled around, the trio became suddenly very popular whenever we went out in public. 

People would seem enthralled by them and for some reason were compelled to TOUCH them- or at least attempt it- I would intervene as much as humanly possible, trying desperately not to be rude in the interim….

Alas, somebody always seemed upset over my “Please don’t touch the babies-they were born very small and get sick really easily” speech.

Adults did it, children did it, and they really were offended that I couldn’t have their kids touching and crowding around mine for fear of getting sick. 

Scarier still, some kids actually were so rambunctious and crowding that they frightened my babies into crying. 

Did my kids really get sick? You bet they did. We couldn’t even go over to visit my own father without picking up a case of the seemingly never-ending sniffles. 

But thanks to our wonderful home-health nurse, we were lucky enough to avoid getting seriously sick and never did get diagnosed with RSV.

So I quickly learned that outings were a thing of the past and would just have to resume May first, the magic day that marks the beginning of our “Free season” where we can go to the park and go shopping at the grocery store and maybe even check out the Boardwalk finally.

Originally published THURSDAY, MAY 10, 2007 BY MIMI RANKIN WEBB

HTTP://MIMIRANKINWEBB.BRANDYOURSELF.COM/

This is a "Potty Emergency!"

 We’ve covered the fact that our triplet stroller is unusually long and very super-huge, making public appearances very awkward.

We decided to try an outing to the museum last summer while in New Orleans visiting family. 

Being babies, of course the need arises to have to change them at some point and of course it's never in a convenient and appropriate place. 

This time it was smack dab in the dividing line between the Ansel Adams exhibit and the Hurricane Katrina Photography exhibit. 

Now there was this very nice leather-looking chaise-lounge piece of furniture in the middle area that looked very inviting. 

But, being in a part of the museum that was as quiet as a church sanctuary due to the content and seriousness of the subject matter, I had decided that this was NOT the place to change our panties and britches.My aunt and I decided to demurely head for the nearest restroom. NOMA appears to have been built quite a long time ago, as the handicap allocations are mostly out of place (they are there, but hard to access) and the bathrooms would reflect this, unfortunately. 


Now, I have three tiny five month olds that look like newborns all screeching because their tiny hiney’s were being chaffed by their diaper contents in a very nice museum in City Park. 


I turned the corner, heading into the door to the lady’s room, following my aunt, only to feel like I was in the larger part of a hallway that appears to get narrower the further you walk down it. 


My aunt very graciously tried to hold the door to the bathroom open for us, but it involved a turn, and what appeared to be ANOTHER door just to get inside. 


I had to make her move so that I wouldn’t run her over with my over three foot long stroller while attempting to negotiate this latest gauntlet.

After much scooching and scraping and squeaking my rubber wheels, I managed to finagle the stroller into the bathroom only to find that once inside, we couldn’t move. 


There just wasn’t enough room for the stroller, my aunt and myself inside the bathroom, much less the poor innocent bystander lady who had just exited the stall as we entered, thus blocking her into the back corner of the bathroom. 


Puzzles, puzzles, puzzles… We managed to get the stroller at an angle as to free the poor trapped lady stuck in the corner, however it forced my aunt into a stall. 


I very quickly changed the perfectly synchronized dirty diapers (triplets tend to do EVERYTHING together) and set out to try and exit the restroom before some poor souls tried to fit in with us.


I haven’t any clue how a handicapped person would get in much less out of there.

I decided that the next diaper change would just have to be out in the open, for all to see. I tried to be discreet, I wanted to be nice, but it just wasn’t possible. 


Coincidentally, our next diaper change would occur in the presence of the museum’s Salvador Dali piece and Picasso painting. 


It’s nice to have a little culture with our fresh panties and breeches!

Please don’t think ill of me. Yes, I am guilty of having to make use of the handicap ramps and entrances to many places out of necessity, even though I am not handicapped. 


I also can be found in the handicap stall of the bathroom at the mall or toy- store. If it’s any consolation, we don’t fit in the handicap stall any better than we fit into that tiny bathroom in the New Orleans Museum of Art. 


Its very difficult for me to go potty anywhere out and about because of that super huge extra-long stroller. 


So if you’re handicapped, and have to wait in line in the bathroom for your stall only to find it occupied by four very un-handicapped people, please excuse us as the higher order multiple stall has yet to be built!

Originally published THURSDAY, MAY 10, 2007 BY MIMI RANKIN WEBB

HTTP://MIMIRANKINWEBB.BRANDYOURSELF.COM/