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/

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

 

Reflections: Baby Bonding

One of the problems facing new mothers of multiples often goes un-addressed.

It’s a subject that is almost taboo in nature, yet it is one that is so pressing that something really needs to be done about the lack of support and available information.

I suppose the reasoning behind it is that most other mothers and the general public, even the subject’s own family, just will not understand where the new mother is coming from.

Most people will be quick to pass judgement on the mother based on the subject matter.

What I am referring to is the question in most new mothers of multiple’s minds, of when she will be able to bond with her children.

There, I’ve said it. It really doesn’t sound very good does it? I suppose that’s why so very few of us really will talk about it.

It's because of the lack of information and support out there, that I feel that I need to give it a try.

It’s different when you have only one baby to bond with. I know, because I have a 12 year old in addition to my triplets.

It was very different the first time. I was able to see my first child as they were taking him to the nursery, shortly after he was born.

This was allowed even in spite of the emergency c-section that it took to get him safely into the world.

My only worry and fret at the time was that it was a few hours between our first meeting and our next.

I was kept in recovery for a few hours after the surgery, and allowed to come down off of the epidural and recover from my emergency c-section before finally being released to a normal hospital room.

I was allowed to have my baby in my room as much as we could tolerate each other.

Of course, being a first time mom, I kept him at my side as much as possible.

It had been love at first sight and I was reluctant to let him out of my sight even for his bath!

Fast-forward eleven years and I found myself pregnant with triplets. That in itself is enough to show what a difference this pregnancy was going to be!

Almost immediately, I felt the difference between this and my first pregnancy.

For one, there was never a time when I knew for a fact that I would be able to successfully carry all three babies to term safely.

I had three times the raging hormones while pregnant, and three times the chance for post-partum depression from the drastic changes my body would go through after delivery.

That's not to mention the strain on myself mentally over having to handle my very high risk pregnancy along with trying to work as long as my body (and doctors) would allow!

I found myself micro-managing my body and my pregnancy, trying to gain some control over the changes that were taking place.

All of this was done in hopes that I would be able to give my babies a fighting chance at survival.

I had to come to terms with the fact that I had to remain cautiously optimistic for both them and myself in order for us all to get through this.

I spent a lot of time learning how to tell the babies apart just from seeing them on the ultra-sound screen and from the scant pictures I would glean from the ultra-sound techs.

I discovered their personalities even before they were born and became intimately familiar with their every known trait, good and not so great!

Nothing could have prepared me for what would happen once their birth date arrived.

I had been in as much control as anyone could hope for in my situation.

My doctor had set goals for me and my pregnancy. I had followed through with them to the best of my ability (for those of you who have been there, you know that we really cannot control what our bodies do at this point.)

I proudly walked from the Schumpert parking garage to the third floor labor & delivery to check in for my c-section.

I even was able to sit up and talk to the nurses and everyone in the operating room while I waited for the rest of the staff to arrive and my surgery to begin.

Once the anesthesiologist arrived, I realized that this wasn’t going to be anything close to like my first c-section was.

To begin with, they wanted to do a spinal instead of an epidural. And for some reason, they just couldn’t get it to work.

After about an hour, they finally decided to put me totally out, which meant I was supposed to be asleep for the entire procedure.

Neither my husband nor my father would be able to be there for the babies birth, and I wouldn’t know if the babies were okay until I woke up.

My body just didn’t do well during delivery, and I had to be resuscitated several times.

Each time they woke me up, I was able to hear exactly what was happening and exactly what was being done for me and my babies. It made the whole thing even scarier.

When I was officially allowed to wake up, I remember asking after my babies and being told that they were all okay.

That was it. I would spend the next 24 hours in recovery because of all of the complications and problems that I had.

I didn’t get to see my babies except when someone from the NICU sent me pictures of each of them in their little beds all taped up and wired to machines that weren't in the picture.

Those pictures made them look so very big, but they really weren't. My babies just didn’t seem real to me yet because I had yet to meet them.

Nobody could tell me how they were really doing, and I missed out on everything that a Mum normally gets to do and take part in during their babies first days.

The babies were born about 9a.m. Monday morning, and I wouldn’t get to see them for real until Tuesday night late.

I had finally had enough of hearing about everyone else getting to see them (before me,) and I made my husband go find a wheel chair and take me down to meet my tiny trio in spite of the late hour.

I have never felt so isolated or detached from my children. I had spent the past 8 months with them and those hours apart seemed like eternity.

I lay in my hospital bed with my pain button wondering if they would even know me. Would I know them?

Were they really okay or had they been telling me that because I was too sick to know the truth?

I just didn’t know what to expect, and NOTHING could have prepared me for how I felt now.

When my husband finally wheeled me into the NICU, I had to try and stand a bit just so I could see into their isolettes, which really hurt.

I was finally able to see them, though. I thought that would make everything better somehow, I really did.

The problem was, I couldn’t hold them yet because of all the wires and tubes attached them at that point.

Besides that, I could barely stand because I had spent the last day and a half in recovery hooked up to wires and machines of my own.

I had to leave them there, lying in their little beds alone, and return to my room, which was the saddest, most lonely feeling I think that I have ever had.

That night, I decided that my staples and breathing treatments and all were not going to keep me away from my babies any longer.

I vowed to find a way to get mobile again (my legs were still tingly from the surgery) and find some way to get to hold them and care for them, NICU. staples and wires or not.

After my family left for the night, and I was alone in my room, I spent nearly the entire night learning to move around, sit up and to stand.

It took a while, but I was finally able to walk the 10 feet from my hospital bed to the bathroom and back again.

I had those three pictures of my tiny trio lined up across the tray that was at the foot of my bed for motivation.

It had really bothered me that they looked so different in person than they had in those photographs.

I wanted nothing more than to actually get to hold them and meet them for real instead of having to peer through the glass/plastic of their little isolettes.

The next day, I had the nurse take me down to the NICU and leave me there.

I spent as much time as the nurses would allow with my babies. I even was finally able to hold both of my boys.

My daughter would be nearly a week old before I finally found a nurse who would let me hold her. It was a very frustrating and scary time for me.

All three babies had their own wires, some of which did different things.

Then the boys had to have their IV’s redone into the vein in their head because their arms just couldn't support them anymore.

Each of the boys also had to sun themselves under the heat lamps. It was very overwhelming for me and them, and all the while I was still recovering from their birth as well.

I did everything that I could think of to try and bond with them.

Because there were three of them, and we were all sick in our own ways, it felt very different from when I had my eldest son.

I worried that they babies wouldn’t need me or might even begin to prefer their nurses instead of me.

I worried that something would happen to one or all of them when I was released from the hospital.

Yes, they sent me home way before my babies. I went home the Friday after they were born.

The babies wouldn’t come home for another three weeks. I had to go home to an empty nursery.

I know it must sound silly, but is nothing sadder than an empty nursery. It is just depressing.

I would spend the next few weeks getting up each day and driving the three minutes down the street to the hospital to spend as much time as I was allowed with my babies.

I made sure that either myself or my family made it to as many feedings as possible.

I scheduled everything around the babies’ schedule, what I called “Lock-out” time which was really shift change in the NICU and pick-up time for my son’s school.

This was the only way I knew of to try and bond with them. I felt that they were getting slighted in that respect because of their extended hospital stay.

I still didn’t have that warm fuzzy feeling that I had with my eldest son.

I didn’t have the time to actually sit down and think about it having it, or rather I didn’t allow myself the time.

I felt that if I kept forging along, helping them reach their tiny milestones, that in time we would all get to be together and at home and all would fall into place.

I know it must sound awful, to say that the warm fuzzy feelings just weren’t there.

You have to understand that our bodies are literally pushed to the max to carry multiples and having the added stress of a complicated delivery made things much more difficult.

Then you have to add in the normal “Baby Blue’s” period of what has become labeled as post- partum depression that should have kicked in.

Did I have it? I honestly don’t know. I didn’t have time to stop and smell that sort of rose at the time.

I do know that Mums who have multiple deliveries are more prone to having it based on the extra amounts of hormones in their bodies.

I do know that my body had to adjust back to normal after all of that stress and all of the hormones.

I also know that my babies needed me and that I needed them.

And that if I stopped and allowed any sort of emotion to take over at the time, that I ran risk of losing my mind and that none of us could afford that!

I had my moments, don’t get me wrong. Nobody is perfect, and I of all people understood that I was far from it.

I had allowed myself to push all emotion out of the way to the point that I was surprised at my reaction to the possibility of something happening to one of the babies.

It was after we were all home together and I had been rocking my daughter to sleep in the glider.

I had gotten up to take her to the nursery, and my cat had decided that he was tired of being neglected and had taken to weaving in and out of my legs while I was trying to walk.

He tripped me, and I fell into the wall. I managed to keep my balance enough to prevent the baby from getting hurt, but it scared me so badly I couldn’t stop crying.

Afterwards, it really bothered me that I hadn’t realized how much I loved her before.

Somewhere in all the wires, feedings, NICU visits and carpool, I had managed to bond with my babies.

I had been so busy overcompensating for everything that I hadn’t even noticed.

It sounds odd, even callous maybe, but it’s the truth. In retrospect, I don’t know why it surprised me so, just that it did at the time.

I had been taught during my pregnancy to slow down and eliminate all sources of stress from my life in some attempt to try and keep my body from going into early labor.

After the babies were born, I had quite forgotten to follow that rule for whatever reason.

I don’t even know if it would have been possible really to do so, but I wish I had tried it!

I thought of all of this last night, while holding my eldest triplet on my chest after he woke up during the night from a gas bubble.

He was snoring quietly, and I could have put him back into his little bed, but I just couldn’t do it.

I had that nice warm fuzzy feeling… the one that makes you never want to let your baby go.

And, as we lay there in my bed, I tried to remember the first time I had felt it with him and I couldn’t.

That, to me, is upsetting. I know that it’s not my fault really, but I honestly, really can’t remember.

I remember everything else. I remember insisting on hanging the only family portrait that we have of all three of us in their little beds (it’s of my husband, son and I at faire-we are all in our red yeoman outfits and are standing in the artillery garden on industrial row where the cannons are kept-Bregon is waving at the camera with his hankie and we are all laughing.)

I remember having to explain that it was the only family photo that we had and exactly why we were wearing renaissance era clothing to just about everyone who took care of the babies and some who didn't.

I remember us giving them their first bottles and how we had to teach them how to eat from it.

I remember having to demand that my daughter be taken off of her gavage feeding and be allowed to take a bottle only a week before she came home…

I remember the waking up in the middle of the night wondering if the babies were okay and my husband reminding me that while my kids are my happy thought, that we are the babies happy thoughts too and that everything was going to be alright.

Somewhere during all of that, I managed to bond with all three of my babies in spite of all of my fears and worries.

That warm fuzzy feeling crept in when I least expected it, and I missed it.

Somehow, I think it had always really been there, but that I had been too busy worrying to notice.

Looking back, I think it must have happened the first time I got a glimpse of my new family portrait on that ultra-sound screen.

I didn’t know it then, but that little fuzzy feeling wasn’t really shock or surprise.

It was the warm fuzzy feeling a mom get when they meet their babies for the first time and I had been too scared at the prospect of them not making it to allow myself to feel it.

I hope other mom’s out there understand that sometimes, it takes time to bond with your babies, especially if there are more than one involved.

It will come eventually and maybe, just maybe, you will find that it was always there from the beginning, no matter what anyone else will tell you.

How To Handle The Holidays?

Lately, I have been dreading the coming of the Holidays. It's not that I don't love them, I really do. It's just that I am not too certain how I should handle the holidays with my over-abundance of toddlers.

Last year was really quite simple. Thanksgiving was easy because the babies were not quite as mobile as they are now, and they really just spent most of lunch in their carriers, content to watch the folly of the adults which apparently made for interesting amusement.

Christmas Eve at my Grandfather's went well because the babies again were regulated to their carriers and were fine with sitting in a semi-circle chattering amongst themselves about the goings on with the adults.

Christmas was cancelled for the most part at the last minute due to my nieces and nephew all being sick. We just stayed at home and did our own thing there and it was all good.

In fact, it worked out well because it took the babies a couple of days to unwrap all of their presents because they had to test everything out before going on to the next one!

This year, though, we are mobile. Not only can we all walk, but they can climb and have the coordination to not only open cabinets and drawers, but can also move furniture if they are so inclined (which actually has happened a few times believe it or not!)

So, here is my folly. Do people normally take their multiples to their relatives houses for the holidays, or have do they just move everything to their house to make things easier on everyone?

Mine are going to be 21 months when Christmas rolls around this year and I am not too sure it's a very good idea to unleash them on the houses of others during the holidays, given their newly acquired skills!

At least at my house, I have a way to feed them (containment in the feeding chairs) and their toys to keep them out of trouble...somewhat!

My fears are that they will find the houses of others more fun than new toys & treat it like a jungle gym or worse!

It's not easy keeping one toddler under control during the holidays as a guest at other peoples houses (especially main gatherings.)

But being able to successfully keep three toddlers under control & out of trouble is a quite a whole different ballgame altogether!

When one toddler gets into trouble or hurt, the other two usually end up taking advantage of the focused parent and use the opportunity to try and get into some sort of trouble themselves!

I have already hurt some feelings when I had to try and explain to a few family members why it was that we couldn't come for a visit.

I was only thinking of their breakables that they so lovingly cherish and really do not want to put up out of reach of tiny hands. Then again, when it comes to Kai, climbing is his forte' and "Up" may not be high or safe enough!

I shudder to think of the possibilities of disaster. Think of Thanksgiving. This is a time when we normally haul out the pretty table linens and fine china and the crystal. My kids just love breaky noises.

Would the temptation of a table cloth prove too much for the ever-conniving mind of a toddler? What about three little minds that work in tandem?

Then there is the matter of the Christmas tree. I have a sort of idea or game plan on how to actually get to have mine and it survive the year.

But the tree at other unsuspecting family members may not be so protected. Just think of it. A Christmas tree to a child is all sparkly, lit up, and hung with all sorts of little toy type objects just waiting to be played with.

How am I to keep my tiny trio from playing with something so inviting? Then there is the matter of other people's presents.

This year, the babies should be able to figure out and master the art of unwrapping a present.

They aren't all that adept at the communication skills with folks other than each other (that multiple thing) so trying to tell them "No" might just entice them to pump up the effort a bit and go a little further.

So, I am torn. I want them to have family time and celebrate with others. But, at the same time, I am worried about the rest of the family getting stressed over the idea that my tiny trio would basically be overrunning their homes!

So, does anyone have any ideas on how to handle the situation? Should I be daring & venture over to the unsuspecting relatives homes for Thanksgiving & Christmas?

Or, should I try and convince them that it's a better idea to come to my house and celebrate?

Good Shopping Trip Versus Bad Shopping Trip!

Our day went unusually well today. I managed to get all three babies up from their naps. They had lunch fairly quickly, and let me get them dressed and loaded into the car with little fanfare.

I would find out later from the tell-tale bumps on Kai's lower lip that he is allergic to his lunch which had been pesto with chicken and vegetable noodles. He didn't cry, though. He didn't swell up, luckily for me, and he was nice and sweet and good ALL DAY LONG!

All three babies were nice and chatted and sang along with my new Cyndi Lauper C.D. on the way to the big consignment sale. Nobody even fussed while they waited for me to load them into their limo-sized stroller.

I was in shock. I was able leisurely shop the sale without the babies doing any major vocal contribution. All I did was talk to them along the way about the things that they said and what we were looking at on the racks.

We only had one case of tears and it was very short-lived. Kai became very sad when Kian accidentally pulled his hair while trying to play with the long tag attached to the back of Kai's stroller seat. I gave him a quick kiss on his forehead and the tears went away magically!

I managed to spend about $100 all in all. That's not bad considering they have everything from furniture and strollers to clothes and toys (indoor & out) in there. I mostly bought Vivie some fall/winter outfits because the boys always get their cousin's hand-me-downs (everyone seems to buy for him to the point where a bunch of the clothes are actually still sporting their original price-tags!)

I found each of the babies a Christmas outfit, too. It's hard to find boy Christmas outfits for some reason.

Kai's outfit is a pair of green over-all's with a reindeer head on the front that has Christmas lights strung through-out its antlers. Kian's outfit is a pair of red plaid over-all's and has a jar of several gingerbread-men cookies on the front.

I found Vivie a blue dressie with Christmas bears embroidered on the front and smocked into the bodice. She also ended up with a few other smocked outfits as well, some are dressies, some are the long bubble suits.

We even shopped the toy department. I had hoped to run across a spring horse for the boys for Christmas, or even a ride-on truck of some sort, but alas they didn't have any this time.

We did find a sort of Tigger-in-a-box that is really supposed to be a Christmas decoration, but will serve just fine as a jack-in-the-box substitute. It also has a motion sensor on it so you don't have to push the button for him to go off. It basically will play peek-a-boo with you!

Kian made friends with a rock-star Elmo doll, so it had to come home with us as well. He is quite an Elmo connoisseur. We have a family of Elmo's at our house!

Overall, I really enjoyed shopping the consignment sale today. My kids were as quiet as I could have hoped for, and I found some really nifty clothes for them, too.

When I finally got home, husband had just pulled in the drive as well, and he offered to take the babies inside so Bregon and I could run to the grocery store for a bit, which is quite a luxury.

Bregon and I had tried shopping at Wal-mart on Sunday with the trio and didn't get so lucky as I did today! My babies had started out happy that day,. But we got stopped or rather blocked in several times early on by people who wanted to stare (not talk to us) at the kids.

A few of these people felt that they needed to BLOCK us from being able to go down the aisle or turn onto another one.

One guy parked his motorized cart in front of my stroller and blocked the whole main aisle by doing so. He finally said something to us after about three of the longest minutes ever!

I really don't normally mind meeting new people while out shopping, but Sunday a few select actions by some onlookers really caused some problems for us.

The babies got bored pretty quickly. Even Kian and his, "How-D-do's" soon tired of waving and saying, "Hi" to everyone.

This ended up in the babies resorting to OTHER ways to amuse themselves, mostly at their sibling's expense.

There was more hair-pulling, attempted maulings (biting,) and eye-poking and kicking than in a high school fight. Tears ran freely, and they got very loud very fast.

I quickly forgot whatever it was that I was there to buy in the first place, even though I had a shopping list to try and follow (which I swear I couldn't follow for whatever reason, I tried!)

I did manage to remember the blue-berry waffles which the babies have decided is their second new favorite food besides macaroni & cheese.

Unfortunately, I missed meeting one of the people from our forum by being so focused on not forgetting them. I really do wish I had gotten to meet her, too. I hope I wasn't rude or anything!

Bregon and I both finally ended up giving up trying to find what we needed when we had both tried looking at two different parts of the same produce aisle only to look up and find some lady trying to make small talk with my screaming and fighting trio.

I know she probably meant well, but she was asking them things such as, "What's the matter? Why are you crying?" And some of the people who had tried talking to them had succeeded in getting them to respond positively back to them WITHOUT tears.

This lady was NOT one of those people. What she had failed to see or notice, was the reason that they had started crying harder.

She and her buggy had been parked directly IN BETWEEN the stroller (my babies) and their MUMSY, blocking me and their brother from their sight entirely, hence the deluge of tears and increase in volume.

My babies thought that they were ALL BY THEMSELVES and had reacted in turn. They couldn't even hear me trying to talk to them because of the things she was saying to them. I know that she probably had meant well, but oh my goodness!

She was not very nice about my trying to get to them once she took notice of me, either. I tried to nicely excuse their behavior and all, but she was no longer interested and apparently was offended by my talking to her. Ah well, I can't win them all over.

I felt really bad about our shopping trip that didn't go so well. Today's experience gave me hope that maybe, just maybe it was an isolated experience.

There really wasn't much difference in the procedure or the day for the babies. So I am not sure if it was just the atmosphere and the way people treated them that made them upset that day as opposed to being happy and nice today or what.

Everyone we ran into today was really friendly and nice and nobody did anything odd like try and block us physically from going anywhere. Then again, most of these people shopping today were Mumsies and Grandmumsies and people who either had children or grandchildren.

Who knows what the difference really was! I understand that kids have their good days and bad days as well as adults too, but Sunday was pretty upsetting.

I am very hopeful that it was just an isolated incident! I suppose only time will really tell! In the meantime, if you see us out and about, do say hi (just please do not be offended if my kids decide to be cranky!)

Saved By the "Goldfish" (or part 2 of A Mumsy's of Multiples Best Friend

Now, both Kian and Kai can walk. Today, I learned exactly what other people meant when they talk about triplets being a handful.

It’s easy to chase one baby. However, throw in another walker, and you start to wonder exactly how one is supposed to go about keeping them all out of harm’s way.

Add in the third baby who does what we call the “Cripple” crawl where she sort of walks on one leg while dragging the other one underneath her body. She knows how to crawl the “Normal” way, but this way is FASTER!

Now, you have to understand that the new house is MUCH larger than the last one. It’s also very open and has a fireplace and an upstairs.

For the first time every, the babies have been allowed to just BE. There isn’t any need for the tiny play-yard here. This arrangement seemed fine at first, too.

Then Kian decided to go mobile and my world changed FOREVER! This meant that both he and Kai could both walk in different directions, with different motivations and get into trouble equally and with great distance, sometimes rooms, between them.

Kaiden discovered that there are Pyrex dishes in the other cabinet that has yet to get its baby-latches installed. Meanwhile, in the hallway, Kian has discovered that there is more to the house than the first floor. He found the staircase.

At first, I was lucky. Because Kian had only been walking for a few hours at best, he couldn’t yet fathom taking on the task of mastering the art of stairs.

Then Vivie decided she, too, could go exploring. While Kai was busy placing his blocks carefully into the Pyrex bowls under the counter, and Kian was eye-balling the stairs with the eye of a mountain-climber, Vivie had jumped right in and managed to climb up onto the hearth of the fireplace.

Meanwhile, the oxygen deprived mummy was trying to figure out who was more apt to be in immediate harm’s way. These decisions are NOT fun and are not anywhere near easy to make.

I somehow managed to get Kian’s attention from the end of the hallway, giving him the urge to have a gold-fish cracker RIGHT THEN AND NOW!

The very idea that Kian might get something that Kai would miss out on was NOT sitting well with Kai who suddenly decided that his blocks could just sit on the floor for the moment while he too went into the hallway, following the sound of Kian’s voice saying fishie, goal-fishie.

The new-found “Pied-piper” syndrome that I had acquired from possessing that much needed bag of gold-fish crackers gave me enough time to head for the fire-place to try and convince Vivie NOT to try and get down by herself (she cannot walk yet but apparently can climb very well) or just scoop her up away from the brick.

Nobody got hurt that time, but this was about the point that Debbie’s (my nurse from the hospital) advice popped into my head. “Gates are my friend,” she had said. Gates. That was the key here. What we need are gates!

Triplet Time Out!

Everything is different when you have multiples. Because they are born early and with their siblings, they develop at a different rate than a single-born baby. This means that they are smaller and do not do the same things at the same time as other babies that are the same “Age” as they are do.

My trio rolled over later, learned to sit up later and didn’t even cut teeth until they were a little over nine months old. Actually, only one of my triplets can even walk and they are currently 16 months old.

I don’t know if it is because they are tinier than normal babies, or if it is because I have babied them too much, but this go-round I have been a bit more lax in the discipline department. My eldest was disciplined from the beginning as I could recognize that he understood what it was that I meant.

My triplets have been different in that I just haven’t thought that they would understand the concepts of right or wrong yet. Don’t get me wrong, I have been teaching them the difference between “Yes” and “No” and what “No-No’s” are. I just haven’t found that they can fully understand what it is that I am trying to convey to them in a situation where one of them is crying.

Recently, because my triplets are teething very badly, they have developed a habit of biting each other. I have caught them biting each other in attempts to get stolen toys back from each other and even when one got into the way of another. I have been in quite a quandary over how to address this with them.

What I have been doing, is making sure to turn my full attention to the child who was bitten or hurt after stating to the other two children that biting is bad, biting hurts, and biting is a no-no etc.

Of course half the time, I can’t even tell who did the biting, or caused the crying, but I sure can tell who lost the fight! Usually I end up consoling the baby who got hurt, leaving the others to watch the bitten sibling get all of the attention.

Saturday, I had to take my eldest son to Dallas to see “Sweet Charity.” This meant that husband had baby duty. After the show, I got a call from a very excited and proud husband.

As luck would have it, there was a biting binge in the play-yard. Kian had decided to pull Kai’s hair and at the same time bite Vivienne’s arm. Apparently he is very adept at multi-tasking for a toddler. Most adults aren’t so coordinated!

My husband had this very bright idea! He decided to try putting him in time out, something which we had thought of before, but hadn’t been able to find a good safe place to implement the punishment that wasn’t a fun place to play!

What he did, was sit him in his little feeding chair, turn it away from the television to where Kian had no choice but to sit there and watch his daddy play with his siblings and have loads of fun. He told him that biting and pulling hair hurt and were both no-no’s.

Husband did not do anything more than buckle him into his little chair and turn it around. He didn’t give him his feeding tray or a snack or a toy, either. He even managed to ignore Kian’s little sniffles and all (which is very difficult for a doting daddy to do!)

Poor biting and hair pulling Kian had to sit and watch his daddy play with his siblings in their play-yard with their toys. He apparently figured out that he was missing out and it made him very sad. After he was allowed back into the play-yard he was even GOOD for a time.

Husband only had one other incident with Kian biting and he went straight back into time out again. Each time, he sniffled and was sad about missing out and each time he was good afterwards.

I am so very proud of husband for solving our discipline dilemma. Now we have a good way to get our point across to the babies when they do something wrong. This way, I can actually separate each of them in a safe manner and where they cannot get to the others or communicate easily.

Hopefully they will get more teeth and the biting will go away and fade in time (and other habits!). If not, our new, modified time-out system may just help us quell our tiny trio problems!

Teething Troubles

It's very quiet right now, considering it's about four in the afternoon. As of late it's been very noisy for some reason or another. My trio are all cutting molars and various other teeth in odd places.

This means that they are teething. Teething means that ANY object that can fit in their mouth must be BITTEN and often! This process has involved chewing on such things as a tiny moose figurine (sorry Tyrone) that apparently is best chewed upon if you insert the antlers into your very wide open mouth and twist it a bit to where you can get those antlers in between the gaps in your teeth so that the missing ones can be enticed to break the skin.

Unfortunately for the moose, that pesky tooth has yet to break the skin yet. Sadly for my teething toddler, that moose's antlers just BARELY fit into his mouth so he has to open super wide to even be able to have the chance to maneuver it into his mouth. The laws of physics just are NOT in either party's favor here.

Kai has quickly discovered that if he isn't careful, those antlers will get stuck in your mouth (keeping it forcibly open) and just will not come out unless a parental unit takes pity in his plight (which often is very hard to do speedily as we are much to busy trying not to laugh at his predicament!)

Then there is the strange case of dental imprints popping up in places they shouldn't be. Poor Vivie has quite a collection running up and down her tiny, apparently very tasty, little baby girl arm. Kai has them on his bicep and even running down one leg. Oddly enough, Kian isn't sporting but a few bruises. I can only guess that it is Kian who has been leaving his dental imprints emblazoned on his siblings for all to see.

I really am at my wit's end with the biting business. It all happens so very quickly so I rarely can catch the actual act occurring. I know that if someone is crying, then someone usually was up to no good. However, in my house, It's the person who is wailing that gets the soothing mommy attention and not the one who may have caused them to cry.

I know that once they are old enough to really understand what they are doing that I will have to really crack down on this behavior. For right now, all I can really do is tell the general onlooking siblings that biting is bad and a no-no and hope that the offender really figures out that they are the one who is in trouble.

I have to take some reassurance in the idea that at least I am not giving them my undivided attention over the situation in that I must comfort the baby who is crying over being most recently mauled. I can only hope that this works out in the end. Either that, or those teeth will hopefully finally come in and the teething/biting urge will fade away along with it.

I am trying to hang in there and be a sweet and nice and loving mom, but it the power's that be are making it so very difficult. None of the babies seem to sleep entirely through the night. Thankfully, they rotate waking up which makes it a tad bit easier to soothe that baby back to sleep. The bad part is, that once I get one back into their beds, another one starts to squirm and cry and needs to be soothed.

This means that usually I don't get much in the way of sleep at night. I try and nap when the babies do so that I am at least tolerable to be around, but as of late that is becoming less possible. Today, they actually tag-teamed crying through-out nap time. They have been doing the same thing for most of the day. In fact, it's odd that it was quiet long enough for me to write this! Those teeth HAVE to come in sometime!

Don't get me wrong, I am not complaining. I know that it will be over in a heartbeat. I even am trying to find ways to find the humor in all of this. Maybe it's some sort of honor to get to sport your sibling's dental imprints on your arm...a sort of baby right of passage maybe? I remember when my baby sister proudly left her dental imprint on my arm. She was always so proud of herself. I must have had that bruise for at least two weeks.

Ah well, it's almost dinner time for babies at my house. I have until "The Backyardigans" ends to have dinner ready and avoid the fussies! Maybe I can find something for them to chew on that is SUPPOSED to actually go in their mouths this time!!!!

Those Less Fortunate

As you probably already have already realized, as a triplet family, my husband, son and I are seasoned NICU vets. We pretty much knew from the moment that we were given the news that we were expecting triplets that they would be in the NICU instead of the normal nursery after their birth.

Nothing can really prepare you for what it’s like, having to see your three very tiny babies hooked up to all those wires and IV’s and even the ventilators (which I pretty much missed because I myself ended up spending nearly two full days in recovery after having failed anesthesia 101.)

Over all, my family handled the entire experience rather well. We had watched those Discovery Health Channel programs as a family, where the babies all were born early and had various problems that resulted in NICU treatments, all of which were caught on camera somehow.

Even my 11 year old (at the time) seemed fairly prepared to see his tiny siblings hooked up to scary machines that make them seem more like tiny aliens than the ultra-sound pictures had made them out to be. We even found some humor in the idea that when one of the boys managed to blow his IV’s and had to have his re-inserted into a vein in his tiny head, the other one appeared jealous and managed to get a really cool cone hat just like his brother’s the VERY next day.

This rivalry would extend to such accessories as the little foam stick-on sunglasses that you get when given a day to sun yourself under the jaundice lamps, and even to the icky nasty barium bottle that Kai appeared to think of as getting extra grocery’s for the day and a cool ride in his own warm blankie-ladden chariot down to have his photo taken in radiology which resulted in both boys getting diagnosed officially with reflux. They even tried to have heart murmurs after three weeks just so they could get the same extra meds that sister was getting. That rivalry exists even to this very day.

In order to juggle life with a graduating fifth-grader, a husband who had to work, my recovering from my very large very yet necessary c-section and three tiny babies who needed a cheering squad and family support, we would have to make some adjustments. We didn’t mind making them, mind you, it’s just that nobody can explain to you exactly what it is you are preparing for prior to having to just do it!

Each day, I would be up and dressed and head to the hospital for the first feeding that I could make which usually ended up being the 9 and later 10 o’clock feeding, after seeing my husband and son off for their day. I would make as many feedings as I could each day, making sure to hold them each for a while so they could have one on one mommy time. I would stay until it was time to pick up my son from school, then we would return for the 6 o’clock feeding with my son and husband along so that the babies could have some daddy and brother time too!

My babies were each very lucky. They thrived and grew and were home before their first month birthday arrived- just barely, but home all the same with little problem. Sure they had reflux meds and Vivie had a small heart-murmur, but it closed on its own and everything went smoothly from there.

It would be October, during the Revel, that I would make an unusual discovery. It’s an issue that nobody really ever thinks much about, but is a very sad one none the less. I was taking my kids to have lunch at the Revel and listen to our favorite band, Trout Fishing in America, when we were stopped by a lady who was pushing a twin stroller.

Being stopped in public isn’t all that unusual for us, in fact it’s quite the norm. But this time was a little bit different. This lady wasn’t the actual mother of the twin toddler’s she was pushing in that stroller. She is a foster mom who specializes in preemies and multiples who are given up for whatever reason by their families for adoption.

During the course of our conversation, her phone rang and she excused herself to answer it. I would find out after she ended the call, that it was the social worker from the hospital calling to see if she was available to foster three tiny triplets, born to a teen mother at only 23 weeks and left in the NICU to their own devices. The truly sad part, was that this lady had been forced to turn down the offer because she already was fostering twins and another child as well.

I really wanted to help. I know that, much like the lady from the Revel that day, I have my own very full house right now. I just cannot help myself when I find myself tearing up over the whole thing. After all, one of the first things that I learned about babies born prematurely, especially micro-preemies like those triplets were, is that they draw their strength from their mommies being there with them.

Its part of the premise behind the whole kangaroo care treatments and the reason so many micro-preemies make it through the NICU and grow up to be healthy babies. I just can’t imagine anyone abandoning their very tiny children like that on the assumption that there is someone out there who will step in as a foster parent and be there for them as an advocate of their care and as support for their tiny growing bodies.

From speaking with this lady, I learned that there are really very few people willing to take on the work involved in caring for a premature baby that is still in the NICU, much less anyone willing to care for multiples. Multiples rely on each other for comfort and self-soothing as very tiny babies. The thought of what might happen if they were to be split up is a very sad one.

Today, as I was lurking on the preemie forum for Preemie Magazine, I ran across a thread that involved a very select few people in the world, people who were actively fostering and trying to adopt children left by their families in the NICU. It gave me a little hope that there are people out there willing to care for these special babies. Unfortunately, they appear to be very few in number.

In today’s world, most people aren’t looking to adopt a special needs or high medical maintenance child or children, unaware that many of these children would qualify for Medicaid to cover medical expenses. Instead, they are turning to other alternatives in the adoption world. Don’t get me wrong, I am not saying everyone should only adopt these children. Adoption is a very personal choice for anyone considering it.

I often wonder what ever became of those tiny triplets left in the NICU to their own devices. I can only hope that someone out there was available to step in and give them a chance.

My husband and I have talked about it at length about it, and have decided that once our own kids are grown, we are going to try fostering preemies and multiples. I challenge others out there who are looking to be foster parents or adopt to look into this growing problem and explore this issue further and see if it is right for your family.

Banning The Bottle

We received the bad news at our last Doctor’s appointment which was our One-year Well-Baby Appointment. We needed to kick the habit, get on the wagon, join ye-old baby-bottle twelve-step program. The doctor had mandated that we get rid of those much-loved bottles.

These are NOT the words any mother wants to hear. We thought we are doing well just to have arrived at the doctor’s office on time and with all three of the triplets AND the twelve-year old in tow, only to be given THE NEWS. “Bottles are addictive,” we were advised by our pediatrician.

We were advised that we had about a three month window to try and wean the triplets off of theirs before they entered the “Needy” stage which would make it really difficult, in fact, next to impossible, to wean them off of THE BOTTLE without a fight.

Our goal date, June 13th, 2007, the day my trio turns 15 months, was appointed as our day of reckoning. We had to have them all three weaned by this date, or face the horrors, trials and tribulations of trying to wean them during “Their Difficult” stage, as described by our doctor.

What should I do? Where should I start? With my eldest, I just didn’t know any better and I followed the precedent set forth by my mother and let him decide when he was ready to give up his bottle when he was good and ready to. I don’t recall exactly WHEN he gave it up, but I do remember him having it when he was two.

In retrospect, it didn’t seem to harm anything. After all, my baby sister was allowed to have her bottle until she was nearly three. I have a distinct memory of my mother and her best friend loading my sister into her car seat, and me into the back seat of our station wagon next to her, and driving us out into the country just so my baby sister could throw her bottle to the mama cows who had so graciously loaned it to her while she was a baby.

I think they must have made her agree to do this, making her feel like she was giving it to the new baby cows to use for their milk in some attempt ease the transition. She was turning three in April which meant that there were A LOT of baby cows to choose from. My mother actually let her pick the lucky cows, and rolled down the window for her so she could toss it to out the window to them.

Was it effective? I sadly don’t remember. I think we must have had a few tears and a few compromises with her, but over all it helped her transition to the cup.

I really wish my mother was around to help me, but sadly she isn’t, so I would just have to find some way to make this June 13th deadline work for us all on my own. After all, I don’t fancy myself enrolling my trio into the “Bottle’s Anonymous” program at the tender age of 15 months, but that’s basically where my pediatrician insinuated that we would be headed, if my tiny trio didn’t manage to kick their bottle habit.

“What to do, what to do,” I thought. I worried about it while trying to go to sleep at night. I pondered my query while in the shower, and over washing the dishes. Then it finally dawned on me. What was I thinking, worrying about all of this?

I was the weird mommy who had given her children sippy cups to drink juice out of when they were but three months old. Everyone had thought I was crazy, but I was actually desperately trying to find a solution for outings that would keep everyone calm and happy so that I could do the grocery shopping or buy them pajamas at the mall.

I had found cups that had very soft spouts on them (much like the nipples of their bottle so they wouldn’t be terribly confused) and these also had handles that conveniently fit over the sides of our stroller, which meant that they had a place to ride when they weren’t being used. They actually held their sippy cups before they could hold their own bottles. My trio had been used to these cups for over a year now.

I already had the babies acclimated to drinking their milk out of their sippy cups on outings and at mealtimes. All I needed to do was start substituting the sippy cups for their bottles at their “Bottle times” each day. I looked up and found that we were down to only two times a day when we would use bottles, early morning and just before bedtime.

I could do this. I started by eliminating that bedtime bottle. They don’t take it to bed with them anyways, so it wasn’t all that difficult. In fact, now they sometimes just have it with dinner anyways instead of having it in our laps just before bed. I still offer it, just in case, but my trio has let us know that they don’t really have the addiction the doctor warned us about.

We were even able to eliminate the early morning bottle. Did it take a long time to do this? The whole transition actually only occurred over the space of about a week. They were confused at first, but being triplets, they adapted really quickly. Thankfully, it turned out thatthey couldn’t care less if their milk comes in a bottle or a cup.

This Wednesday, we will proudly march into our pediatrician’s office, armed with the knowledge that we have kicked the bottle habit. Our set of fifteen bottles has been boxed up with little fan-faire and is ready and waiting for the next newborn baby who really needs them.

I will save the bottles for my super-duper garage sale that really must be staged soon. I never fancied having to explain to some police officer exactly why it was that I was throwing three bottles to the baby cows, anyways. In today’s times, I probably would have been fined or ticketed for littering, and that would be really hard to explain!

Diapers, Diapers, Everywhere!

One of the biggest expenses that mothers who have multiples will have is that of diapers. In fact, we go through so many diapers, that sometimes I think I should advise all of my friends and family to buy stock in our diaper company.

Before our triplets were born, we could only guess how many diapers we would go through in a day. There just isn't any way to fathom how many a family with multiples will use during the diaper wearing years.

That first week after the babies were born, we would get some idea as to what was to come. Once they were allowed to begin bottle feeding, we were advised to change each baby prior to every feeding as a general rule.

The baby's quickly learned to suck, swallow and breathe all at the same time and were soon on a four hour feeding schedule. This meant that they would eat five times each day and be each changed before given their bottles. That added up to fifteen diapers per day, one hundred and three diapers per week.

Now, if you look at the average amount included in a case of diapers, you might think you have it home-free. Most new mom's find that they go through about a package of diapers per week. If you buy your diapers at a whole-sale club such as Sam's Club, or Costco, you will be getting about 240 diapers/box. Which, in the beginning, should last a triplet mum a little over two weeks providing you are buying preemie sizes at first.

Then, much to your chagrin, you find that preemie sized diapers no longer fit! A mum is happy on the one hand, because it means your trio is growing which is a good sign. On the other hand, you watch as the amount of diapers included in that case of diapers starts to drastically drop. Soon, I found that we were going through about a case a week on the whole.

It's not that the babies are filling them any quicker; it's just that the diaper company's seem to not be able to squeeze in as many diapers as they could when the size was extra-tiny. Hmm... I wonder if maybe it’s because the diaper company's know that there really isn't any alternative or if it’s really all just a matter of space.

I guess you COULD try and potty-train your infant. Most reports say that these people who do try aren't really training the baby to use the potty, but training themselves to know when their kids have to go and how to catch them at just the right moment to get them to the potty on time.

I can't see myself sitting there, staring at my children, trying to read the potty signs on my trio's faces, waiting for the moment to come so that I can rush them to the potty and dangle them precariously over the edge of the seat, trying my best not to accidentally let one slide into the bowl and get their first swirly...It's just not something a mum should initiate her baby to...

Did I mention that my triplets tend to do EVERYTHING together? Yep, you guessed it. Not only are they conditioned from birth to eat at the same time and sleep at the same time, but their tiny bodies become synchronized to go potty at about the same time each day as well.

I get to plan my day around synchronized feedings and their nap-time, and I can even let you know about when to expect the dirty diaper fairy to put in an appearance. Stench times three! It's something, let me tell ya!

I have learned how to make judgments as to which fussy baby needs to be held first, fed first, and even put down for their nap first. I just don't think that I can make that choice as to who gets to be dangled over the potty first, in hopes that one will go quickly enough to allow their siblings to get the same chance at hitting the jackpot as the first triplet did.

I mean, how would you feel if you were conditioned to think that you HAD to use the potty instead of a diaper and your mumsy couldn’t juggle your siblings in time for you to get to use the potty on time and you had an accident in your panties or britches. It would send a horrible message to any child in the same situation.

So, for now, I will remain a faithful slave to my diapers, all one hundred and sixty of them that my case now currently contains. I am going to hold off on potty training until they can walk on their own, understand what it is I am really asking them to do, and are tall enough to actually climb up and sit on the potty all on their own (all stools aside!)

Early Christmas Shopping...Finding the Right Dollie!

I know I seem a bit early, starting my Christmas shopping in June. The new situation, having four kids, demands a bit more planning than starting shopping on the day after Thanksgiving. Last year, I shopped all the summer toy sales and consignment sales for Christmas.

I have since learned that EBay is my friend! I figured this out when, armed with my 20%-off-anything-in-the-store-coupon, I set out to try and buy my baby girl her Christmas dollie. Usually, these come from places like "The White Rabbit" or "Toy Fair"-everyone always gets excited over the red and white striped wrapped presents from "Toy Fair!"

Now, I am very picky when it comes to dollies. My grandmother and mum always made sure Santa remembered to deliver very special dollies under my Christmas tree each year, and I am doing my best to try and stick with tradition.

That day, I scoured the shelves of Toy Fair, hoping that the most wonderful dollie would be there waiting for me. It just wasn't happening. The new "Madame Alexander" collection was out there-I had done my homework on-line before heading out, however none of them seemed just right.

The only one I found that I liked ended up being the same dollie Vivie already has (coincidentally named "Baby") only she was dressed in a christening gown. I was tempted, but I had problems buying the same dollie with a different outfit... (she would know!) So I headed out, sans a Christmas dollie.

The problem wasn't the selection, so much as the fact that the newer dolls just aren't as pretty and nice as the ones we had growing up. I remember my second Christmas (I know what you're thinking-I must be nuts, but seriously I do) and my very own Bye-Lo baby was under my grandmother's Christmas tree in her very own canopied crib.

You have to understand that Bye-Lo is the name of my grandmother's most dearest baby doll (second only to Eloise) and we were all allowed as small children to sit in a chair and carefully hold the 1922 very breakable version of the doll given to my grandmother by her daddy. My grandmother and mum had very carefully helped Santa find one that looked as closely as possible to the original, finding her named as "Madame Alexander's Victoria." This was back around 1975 or so!

Although both my mum, and my grandmother are no longer around to help me, I am doing my best to carry on this tradition...Only "Madame Alexander's Victoria" no longer looks like the original Bye-Lo Baby, or even looks like the ones my sister and I received as children. I have both baby's in my china cabinet to compare them to, and they just aren't the same anymore for some reason.

This left me with a dilemma. How do I find the right baby doll? I finally broke down and got on-line and begin to search. I don't know what we ever did without EBay. There you can find the original breakable Bye-Lo's and I was even lucky enough to find a "Victoria" doll about the same era as the one I had as a child!

It only took about a week total, and I have managed to acquire two baby dolls for Vivie for Christmas- yes, one is a miniature version of my Bye-Lo Baby doll, the more modern "Victoria" circa 1975 and she is in perfect condition, smells like new (yes there is a distinctive new baby doll smell!) and is dressed in her little pink linen dress with her panties and booties still in tact! The other dollie is called "Madame Alexander's Little Sailor Pink Dumpling" and she was only $5.99 + shipping. Both baby's are much prettier and nicer than the current collection available in the area stores.

Funnier still, during my search for Vivie's perfect Christmas dollie, I ran across little sailor boy versions of "Huggums" dolls for my baby boys. Now everyone will have a Christmas dollie! I know that you are probably thinking that little boys shouldn't play with dollies- but when you have a baby girl the same age, it helps for everyone to have something similar to avoid conflict & perpetuate happiness! This Christmas should be very interesting and my shopping has only just begun!

Touchie-Feelie or Please Don't Play With the Babies!

Sometimes I feel like I should write a manual on outings with multiples. I should call it, "The Art of Crowd Control." I know it sounds like some presumptuous celebrity, but truly it’s necessary. Its one of those tiny well kept secrets that nobody tells you when you find out that you are pregnant with triplets.

Sure, people say don’t let anyone near your babies when they are tiny. What they don’t tell you is, that while people like to pinch the cheeks of babies when they are infants (singletons,) people feel the overwhelming need to not only crowd multiples, but touch them, feel them and do things to them that they normally wouldn’t do to even their own children.

I know it sounds mean. I know you want to see my cute adorable children. I understand that we are a novelty and that you have probably never seen a set of triplets before. Don’t get me wrong, I love to hear how precious and adorable and wonderful my kids are, really I do. But you have to understand a few things about us as well.

They are triplets. This means that they were carried together inside my small five foot three inch frame. It doesn’t look like that many babies could possibly fit inside my tummy, does it? You are right, they barely did fit and they didn’t fit for as long as a normal single baby would have fit, either.

This also means that they shared that space normally allocated for one baby to grow and they did it for a tiny bit past eight months. That shared space means that these babies grew at a good rate, but also grew at a rate that was determined by the space they had to grow inside of as well. This means that they are smaller when they are born and consequently are also not as developed as a single baby would be when born at the same time that mine were3.

Their very tiny, very cute bodies cannot fight disease as well as normal kids can because they were born early and smaller than most. This means that if you get too close, you may inadvertently give them something more than a friendly greeting. We know you mean well, and that your intentions are totally good, however they may get the sniffles, or even something worse from you if you touch them.

Its not that we find you diseased, please don’t feel as if we are treating you as if you had the plague. It’s just that when we get the sniffles, they may not go away for months on end and can give us a cough. That can lead to pneumonia or even an ear-ache or worse. They are very susceptible to disease and will remain this way until sometime after they turn two.

This past year, starting in September, we had to have a nurse come to our house and give us the synagis vaccine in hopes that it would prevent us from catching RSV, a respiratory disease that gives most people the sniffles, but could land us in the NICU if we are not careful. Although we have many friends from our month long stay in the NICU, we would rather visit them at the annual Christmas party or run into them at Wal-mart or Target than at their workplace! Luckily, our shots worked for us this year!

We really do enjoy talking to you and hearing about how cute the babies are. But they do sometimes get frightened if you get too close to them and forget that they don’t like loud noises or being crowded. They promise to try and be as cheery as they can be for you when you say, "Hi," but please remember that we get tired and cranky sometimes and cannot always be pleasant and chipper! The babies don't mean anything by it, really.

As long as you speak to them in a soft, pleasant voice, they will most likely respond in turn to you. If you are very lucky, they may even wave hello or bye-bye or even say something to you! Please remember that they are only one and often times will not talk or play with people that they are not familiar with!

I am very sorry if I come across as rude or uncaring sometimes. I don’t mean to at all. It’s often very difficult to answer questions and be friendly while trying to calm and attend to my kid’s needs and still remember what it is that we are out shopping for in the first place! I have a habit of tuning out distraction so that I can focus on the needs of the babies and sometimes it’s people that I am tuning out!

Please don’t take offense with me, I am only trying to take care of my kid’s and I really will try and answer any questions that I can once they are calmed and happy and safe!

The Most Helpful Resources According to Me!

I quickly found out that there are very few helpful resources out there for mothers who are pregnant with multiples and even for those same mother’s after delivery. Locally, the multiples support groups are pretty much dissolved due to lack of interest.

I scoured the web looking for contact information on anything in my area and came up with only dead-ends save for the one lady who was kind enough to at least let me know that the chapter she had headed had been dissolved due to lack of membership interest.

I did run across several television programs on the Discovery Channel that were very helpful. I had quickly realized through my research online that no two multiples pregnancies are alike, hence the lack of consistent information. I did find that watching these programs about other women experiencing complications of every imaginable combination did help me learn what to watch for with my own body. Ironically, I never did run across one show or website account that came even close to my own experience with my pregnancy and my triplet’s birth.

I had been one of those mother’s who had planned on working until I was physically unable to work anymore, however being pregnant with multiples resulted in my body appearing near full-term pregnant by the time I was required by my physician to take my leave at five months due to mandatory bed rest orders. This meant that I felt as if I was almost full term as well!

I did learn a valuable lesson when it came time to take my maternity leave from my job of nearly six years. It would appear that very few employers understand anything surrounding leave taking or even have any type of policies in place involving multiple/extremely high-risk pregnancies. They weren’t prepared for me to have to limit my physical activity so very soon nor were they prepared for me to have to wear my maternity clothing as earlier than most expectant mothers. You need to be very careful and document everything when initiating your maternity leave because of this!

While on bed rest, I found several websites that had some helpful information. One is for "Preemie Magazine" http://www.preemiemagazine.com/ which provides information for anyone who is having or has a preemie. It has information on what to expect during your NICU stay and how to manage your child’s healthcare and be your child’s advocate while in the hospital. It also has a forum where preemie issues are discussed and people can talk about what they have gone through and get support and information not normally discussed elsewhere as most people find the subject matter taboo.

Another invaluable site for mothers having or who have had multiples is "The Triplet Connection" http://www.tripletconnection.org/. This site of course is primarily for people with triplets but also allocates for twins as well as higher order multiples. Here I found all sorts of helpful things on life with my multiples and I was able to plan everything based on the advice of people who had been where I was and were where I was headed! You can also meet people who are selling triplet equipment which isn’t something that can be bought at the corner store! I found it a wonderful starting place for me and I still refer to it and browse their forum every so often.

Of course, your doctor will be able to give you some information, however they won’t be able to give you advice on feeding or clothing or even differentiating between your multiples! All you can really do is read as much as you can and talk to as many moms like you as you can find and try to be creative!

I have to say, even with all of these resources, nothing could have prepared me for what happened after I checked into the labor and delivery unit at my hospital. But the information and research did help me stay focused on my goals which was recovering from my delivery as fast and as best as I could so that I could work towards getting my children home and starting our new life together as a family!

Organization???

Something happens to a mom when they have multiples. I don’t remember exactly when it happened, or exactly how, but I suddenly found myself an organized mom. Not that I wasn’t organized before I had the triplets, I had to have been, or was to a point.

It’s just that now I am super-organized. I have all these folders full of my maternity benefits and leave information, medical insurance and Medicaid benefit forms, middle school application process forms and school related information, and several that are full of nothing but health claim information and medical bills for me and the triplets. I save everything related to medical bills and claims and copy those things that I cannot save.

I have even learned to micro-manage our health claim information, something I never dreamed would be necessary. I now appear to know more about claim processing than the representatives with my insurance company who have to hear from me almost every Friday to ensure that my triplet’s health claims are processed correctly and don’t slip through those pesky cracks.

At some point, I learned how to schedule my day and that of my triplets, managing to keep them all on the same schedule that they originally came home from the hospital with. I am one of those moms who can actually make appointments and lunch dates around that schedule, knowing exactly how my kids will be temperament-wise at a given moment. Sometimes I wonder, how did it all come to this? When did this happen? My eldest wasn’t ever on any sort of schedule and it never occurred to me that I would find myself with one now!

I actually bought five sets of three multi-colored bottles each so that we could know which baby had what amount of formula. We would know which bottle had which meds measured into them for each baby and I even went as far as to place them in a certain order in the fridge that would make dosage times a no-brainer. How in the heck did I manage to come up with that one? I’ll never know because it’s something I just did and luckily, it worked!

Sometimes I look in that mirror and I don’t recognize that Mom even though it’s my own reflection. People ask me how I do it, and I never know what to say. The truth is, I don’t really know. I just do whatever it is that I have to do to get my children safely through their day with my sanity in tact (or mostly!) I have learned to let things go that I just cannot always get to like the dishes or the vacuuming. Hopefully, I will remember to show my twelve-year old how to do some of these things…but I do forget.

I have had to learn that its ok to do things when I can and understand that sometimes things just have to go by the wayside. I have had to learn not to care what other people think of me because of this. All I can do is sit back and enjoy this wonderful ride of a lifetime!