Tales From the NICU

 After they were born, the triplets were put into their own little isolette’s in the NICU.

Vivienne and Kian shared an area and Kai was right across the walkway. It was observed on many occasions, that when one would cry, the others would answer. 

That was just the beginning.

Once testing began, if one baby seemed to be getting “Special” treatment, then the other baby’s would find ways to mimic their symptoms so that they would also get special treatment as well.

This behavior held true and seemed more predominant with the boys than with Baby Vivienne because she was always babied more than they were and received FAR more attention from literally everybody else's nursies including their own.

When Kian started looking a little yellow, he managed to blow his I.V. and they had to put it in the vein in his head. 

This meant that he ended up with a huge gauze hat looking contraption that sort of resembled a dunce cap.

This ALSO meant that he also got to sun himself under the jaundice lamp for a day much like a trip to the tanning bed, which meant he got to wear these really cool shades (they looked like tiny baby sunglasses made of foam that were sticky-taped to his head.)

WELL then, the very next day, wouldn't ya know it, Kai, as not to be out-done by his brother, decided that he, too, wanted a very spiffy hat and shades.

Sure enough, when I came in for the morning after "Lock-out time" had ended (ie shift change) he had the EXACT same set up as his brother.

Kian only had to have his for a day. Kai, on the other had, ended his treatment a day afterward, BUT refused to let anyone remove his uber-cool-dude shades.

He fought everyone and anyone who tried to wash his face and remove those shades. 

This meant that Kai wore those spiffy shades for nearly three whole days before the sticky-tape finally became un-sticky and the foam shades finally fell off.

He was so ornery and outright MAD over this, that the nurse finally gave up on the sticky-tape removal and had my husband try and do it. We took a bunch of pictures of him because he was so very proud of himself.

We would discover that the boys had sibling rivalry down to an art form. Soon, the boys were sharing a bed which would lead to fighting. Kai would steal Kian’s pacifier and toss it down into the well of the isolette where NEITHER of them could reach it.

Kian would wrap up in Kai’s wubby (a half blanket/half doll that was used to put over their heads like a tent to keep their heads warm and shade them from the bright lights of the NICU.) 

This would inspire them both to slap at each other much like “Laverne and Shirley” or rather "Larry, Moe & Curly" from The Three Stooges would do.

Then somebody thought it would be cute and sweet & helpful if both were co-bedded with their sister for the first time since birth thinking a reunion would be most welcome.

That was when they figured out that, although they got bottles and sister didn’t, she was getting something that they were not-MEDICINE-and it looked and smelled super sweet and yummy.

It only took them a few days of sleeping with their heads on her chest to mimic what it was that they believed won her all the extras.

Kian was the first to get the “Royal” treatment. Apparently, Kai believed (or rather his brother had told him stories) that his brother was escorted from their bed in his very own little bed with wheels full of fresh-out-of-the-dryer warm blankies down to a place where he was given an extra-special bottle to drink over & beyond their regularly scheduled ones and then they took pictures of him because he was so cute and handsome and debonair.

So the very next day, Kai came down mysteriously with similar symptoms and was also escorted with the same fan-fare to that special portrait room where it was reported later that the techs found him extremely cute and funny and had played with him for quite some time.

It would seem that he basically sang for his supper down there and felt that he had to earn that extra bottle which he drank with such gusto that he didn’t even notice that it was full of barium until he started feeling funny.

He had taken it all in so very fast that it came back up even faster, much to the chagrin of the techs. Yep, he spewed EVERYWHERE like a regular fountain...more likened to the force of a fire hose actually...

Apparently NOBODY ever gets sick on their table….except Kai, and he had done it so very well.

All's well that ends well of course...So everyone ended up with the same formula and the SAME special medicine. And all seemed peaceful, for a time.

Originally published THURSDAY, MAY 10, 2007

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

HTTP://MIMIRANKINWEBB.BRANDYOURSELF.COM/

Breakfast In Bed

 Mornings are very peaceful at my house. Each day I wake up to breakfast in bed. Not you’re usual breakfast mind you, but one for my triplets.

My husband gets up for the day and turns on the baby monitor so he can listen for the baby’s to wake up while he gets ready for work each day.

Once he hears them begin to stir, he makes their bottles for them and brings them to me in bed.

Next, he will deliver my daughter to me for her morning bottle while he picks up both of the boys and lays them side by side on the bed.

They usually will all lie in bed with me together and have their bottles while we change them and cuddle and play with them.

It’s really the most peaceful way to start off a day. After they eat, the baby’s will sit there and play with each other while they wait their turn to be burped.

This is the time when they will usually say and do the silliest things. Each day brings new baby tricks!

Kian usually starts his day saying, “I get up! I get up! I got up!” This is something my tiny couch potato picked up from an early “Shrek” promotion commercial about good habits.

Kai once actually told me not to call him by a pet name, saying, “Not Doodles, Kai!” Now he has decided to create a persona for himself and prefers to be addressed as “The Dude, Doodles!”

Kian replied to this by accidentally banging his head on the headboard of the bed while nodding his head up and down in agreement (he now addresses his brother in this way.)

This led Kai to say, “He can’t help it!” while shaking his head side to side as if to say, “How silly!”

It was one of these mornings that found Vivienne frantic for her bottle, but when my husband picked her up to feed her, she wouldn’t eat.

Because the boy’s were hungry too and needed some cuddling, he put her down in between us and turned to pick up Kai.

She had this look of total shock on her tiny, beautiful face as she gasped and said, “Bad Daddy!”

My husband laughed so hard he almost fell off the bed. My triplets really have turned me into a morning person with our breakfast in bed ritual!

Originally published TUESDAY, MAY 15, 2007

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

HTTP://MIMIRANKINWEBB.BRANDYOURSELF.COM/

Oh the Things People Say and Do!

 As a triplet mom, I hear all sorts of things being said both to us as a family and about us as we go about our daily lives. People always are surprised to see me out shopping with my baby’s or going to the doctor by ourselves.

I know we must be quite a site to see. Our stroller seats three, one behind the other and has foot rests for each baby. It is very, very long. So long, that I call it our limo.

It doesn’t drive well for a stroller; however strollers rarely do drive well. Complete with our diaper bag and bottle bags for three and my purse and adorned with three sippy cups hung over the sides of each compartment, we must appear quite a site.

We stop traffic, that’s for certain. Whether it is grocery shopping at Brookshire’s for our 97 cans of formula or shopping at Sam’s for our case of diapers and wipes, you can be assured of seeing quite a spectacle when I push that limo sized stroller loaded full of baby’s and pull that shopping cart.

People react in many different ways. Some just stare at us, while others will talk about us as if we can’t hear them. Then there are those who will stop us and ask questions. I don’t mind talking to people about my baby’s. It doesn’t bother me if they are pleasant and kind.

Some people ask about the baby’s names. Other’s ask their birth weight, or if I was on fertility when they were conceived, and the usual “How old are they” and “How much did they weigh when they were born?”

I don’t mind the general questions, but the fertility question is really much too personal and really border-line rude. It’s almost like asking if a man is that baby’s father or if that baby is adopted.

Then there are the people who just make comments. I like to think that they are just awkward and don’t know what to say. I really hope that’s the case. These types of people say things like, “Better you than me,” or “Triplets?”

Then there is,”I’m sorry.” I can tell you right off that I am not sorry in the least. These are my children, folks, not lesions caused by a plague, and let me tell you, it is NOT catchy!

Another thing people will say is, “You’re hands must be full.” To this, I always reply, “Very happily full!” Then there is the old, “You must have a lot of help.” Actually, I don’t, something that appears to shock most people, including other mother’s who have multiples.

I always figured that I didn’t deserve my triplets if I couldn’t take care of them myself. I would like to be one of those moms that you see out with their mothers or mother-in-law, however I am just not that mom.  It simply was never in the cards for me and I'm good with that.

You see, my mother died the month before my 12 year old was born and both of my grandmothers died the very next year. My mother-in-law died when Bregon was three. I did have a sort of step-mother-in-law for lack of a better term, however, she lived 45 minutes away and had many, many other grandchildren of her own that she ALSO must be grandmumsy to.

Ultimately, she, too, ended up leaving long before my children turned 4 and they barely even remember her save for the one time she came to take us all for dinner several years ago.

I don’t mind not having help, but it does sadden me when people assume that I must have some.  OR they actually look at me as if there is something wrong with me for doing this all by myself. I like to think or rather hope that they mean well, but sometimes I get the idea that they do not.

It’s really hard to stop and be nice to all of these people and still remember what it is that I was out to buy in the first place, or where it was exactly that I was headed to before they stopped me. I do try very hard to be pleasant and smile and at least try and answer some of their questions as nicely as I can muster, even though it’s most difficult when the children are sad, hungry, or crying and need my attention.

It seems that someone almost always wants to talk when I need to be helping my babies. The strangest person I have come across while shopping actually sped up her walking in the grocery store to physically block me from turning down an aisle that I was in the process of heading down.

This lady literally swung her cart around and blocked the end of the aisle with her buggy and jumped in front of it, heels clicking on the floor and all, just to stop me and strike up a conversation about my triplets as if they were THE MOST interesting  infants she had ever laid eyes on.

I was just as surprised as the ladies who had also been trying to exit that particular aisle and who found themselves also being blocked by the very same person! She actually said that she figured I wouldn’t talk to her if she didn’t block me like that.

I told her that in the future it would be pleasant perhaps if she were to try giving me the benefit of the doubt.

I get all sorts of strange reactions from people while out and about. I try to learn from what they say and do, though. I really have learned to stop and think before I say something to  another Mom  about her newborn or baby.

I know that while I may mean well, ya just never know how what I say may be taken and I would HATE for a fellow Mom to misunderstand and not take something the way that it was meant!

After all:  we're THE MOMMIES and we are ALL In this together!!!

Originally published TUESDAY, MAY 8, 2007 BY MIMI RANKIN WEBB

HTTP://MIMIRANKINWEBB.BRANDYOURSELF.COM/

Triplet Games

 Life with triplets can be really funny. After all, instead of one bouncing baby, I happen to have three. I know there are all sorts of myths out there about multiples.

The funny thing is, a lot of them which seem preposterous are really true. I have found out that they do develop their own language. Yes, I believe that might have been the first thing they ever did…and I have a strong suspicion it occurred in-utero. 'Tis scary, yet true.

Their communication skills in-utero became apparent when it came time for the advanced ultrasounds.

The babies were required to be monitored as breathing so many times for the lab-tech in a given time-frame. It almost seemed as if they knew exactly what it was we were looking for and exactly what the tech wanted them to do...however they soon proved mischievous!

You see, they actually appeared to team up against us on the outside. There were weeks when they were all sorts of moving around inside for the people in the waiting room of the doctor’s office putting on a show for anybody who stared wondering how far past my due date I was inspite of having several more months to go, lol.

But once I got into that huge recliner and they were on “TV” they would clam up and not breathe a bit. I know they had been doing it because they had just gotten over a huge case of the hiccups- yes they can all three have them at the same time- fun to watch, hard to handle for me.

It seemed that they would unanimously agree to either breathe as they were supposed to, or agree not to do it at all. It was usually an all or none situation with them.

Then one day, apparently they forgot to tell Kai that they were going to be good and that the plan was to behave THAT day. Kian & Vivienne both performed their breathing tasks VERY obediently, suspiciously so, even.

HOWEVER, when they got to Kai, he held it and held it and held it. They even hooked me up to the contraction contraption and monitored me for a while then went in and re-checked him.

It was then that we witnessed the funniest thing. They located each of the babies so that they could be sure which was which, then went over to Kai to watch him and waited for him to do his expected baby tricks.

All of the sudden, you could see these two arms come out and hit Kai in the side which made him gasp and start breathing for the tech:  those arms belonged to Vivienne & Kian as if they had planned to get their brother into trouble! We all had a good laugh about that one.

Then there was the night that my husband had been poking my tummy, playing with the boys. He tapped on my tummy three times over Kai. Then we both froze, because Kai tapped back somehow three times to match his daddy. This became a game with him that we would play nightly.

Once they were born, we quickly found out that they had developed a form of sign-language to communicate with the outside world.

Kai seemed to take the lead on this. He seemed to act as their “Spokesperson” of sorts. He showed us their universal sign for bottle which meant that they were hungry. It involved basically a thumbs-up hitch-hiker sort of sign that he would make with his hand and move to it to his mouth.

They also had a sign that would let us know when they were going to spit up so that we could have a towel ready. It was an open hand that they would first place next to their neck at ear level and sort of wave it up in an arc up and over their ear.

I quickly learned that when they made this sign, they meant it. Other people must have found us a bit crazy, but it really helped us communicate with them early on. Kian & Baby Vivienne have since moved on to words like “Hungry” and “Bottle.”

After I got them all home and into their own beddy-bye, I started noticing little things here and there like the uncanny way that Kai seemed to always have three pacifiers.

One day, I caught him crying as I walked into the room. The next thing I know, there are two pacifiers flying through the air only to land right next to his head.

Apparently my children had decided amongst themselves that, since their pacifiers made them happy when they were sad, they would share theirs with whomever needed it the most.

Being that Kai is the greedy one, he had figured out that appearing “Sad” would cause his siblings to share their things with him. He almost always has three of everything.

Another oddity in my house, is that I will find the babies laying in their own beds(they now have one for each baby) with one sock off and one sock on. They are able to communicate enough to agree to remove the same sock each off the same foot or take the same arm out of their pajama’s armhole each. I guess they are getting a head start on setting the latest fashion!

One of their new favorite games is to pick a place in the nursery as a target, and throw the same toy from each bed out and try to hit that target.

I will go in their room and find a pile of Disney World souvenirs in the middle of the floor, or their valentines bears tossed over near the diaper pale.

This game has carried over to their play-yard in a way. Only now, it has evolved into a sort of “Let’s tidy up the Play-yard.” Today, they decided to remove all of the blocks from the play-yard and proceeded to toss them out on all sides.

Only the blocks were tossed today. Yesterday, they sorted out all of the Backyardigan toys. I always marvel at the way they can communicate and carry out their ideas together.

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

HTTP://MIMIRANKINWEBB.BRANDYOURSELF.COM/

SOOO....What's It Like Carrying Triplets?

Carrying triplets is probably the scariest endeavor I have ever endured. In the beginning, of course you find out that you are pregnant and you haven’t any clue that there is more than one tiny person growing inside.

Because of my prior health problems, my doctor decided to do an ultrasound at 9 weeks out. Because of a previous miscarriage, I was worried about the doctor not finding any heart beat. Little did I know, that lab tech would find not one, but THREE tiny heartbeats!

What a shocker! No, I didn’t faint or pass out, although it did help that I was already lying down. But then again, that lab tech was too surprised to say anything more than, “ How many baby’s would you like?”

All I could say was, “How many baby’s are you seeing?” Of course we now know the answer was “THREE!” So there I was, not expecting one viable heartbeat, only to find that I was supporting THREE!

The doctor & the lab tech (after much oh my goodness-ing) printed out many pictures of my tiny trio so that I would have the undeniable proof of existence when breaking the news to my family. After all, who would believe I was carrying triplets?

Funnier still, I had to have the office worker write me a letter saying that I was carrying them so that work would believe me!

Next, it was on to the specialist’s office for my 12 week introductory visit. They don’t want to see you before 12 weeks because anything less than that may not be a viable multiple pregnancy. That was frightening.

I had gained 4 pounds by this point and was starting to feel my jeans tighten at the waist. The specialist turned out to be very nice, however you get to have this consultation in his office where he gets to tell me that I am much to short to be carrying triplets and that my chances for successfully carrying them are very slim. I looked him in the eye and told him, “We’ll just see about that!”

This is the point where selective reduction is implied/offered, which in my case just wasn’t an option. So,  I left my first big appointment with my specialist armed with a list of stipulations: mandatory full bed rest at 5 months, a list of foods that you should and shouldn’t eat, explicit instruction to find, identify and eliminate all sources of stress from my life, and a term date of 34 weeks. The 34 week goal is the scary part, even though the stress elimination was a close second.

I decided to approach this rather like a game. I had a starting point which I had already managed to get past (conception-passed that test with flying colors!) and now I had a set end point to strive for.

After having been told that most triplet pregnancy’s never make the 34 week mark, I decided that we would hit it right on target. The doctor just smiled.

Little did he know that he would find himself writing my OBGYN a letter stating, “Please deliver these triplets the moment Mimi is officially considered 34 weeks. Not a day before, or a day later.”

Much to my doctor’s surprise, after a pregnancy of no complications, I would walk to labor and delivery from the Schumpert parking garage and check myself in for my very planned c-section after the most frightening 34 weeks I have ever sustained!

Originally published TUESDAY, MAY 8, 2007 BY MIMI RANKIN WEBB

 

A Letter of Introduction

My name is Mimi Rankin Webb, and I am a mumsy of a 12 year old boy, two 1 year old boys, and a 1 year old baby girl.

It sounds like an introduction that you would hear at some sort of 12-step program.

Instead, it’s my introduction and has been for a little over a year now. I get all sorts of questions whenever I go out. 

It doesn’t matter if I am in the elevator, grocery store, or a parking lot, I get a LOT of questions! 

I hope that by blogging, I can answer more of your questions in better detail than I can when asked while out & about!

You have to understand, that by nature, I am a very friendly person. However, I often feel that I am being rude by not being able to stop & talk as much as I would like to with everyone who stops me to ask questions. 

Hopefully I can remedy all of this with my blog!

Let’s start over. Hello, my name is Mimi Rankin Webb and I am a triplet mom and mother to a wonderful 6th grader. 

There, that’s better. Now, let’s get to know each other a little bit better.

-originally posted 5/7/2007