I swear a hungry time monster is eating away at my minutes and hours each day. I have no other explanation for how the end of the day flies up without warning.
AKA I’m nine days late on writing this. Bah.
Half a year has passed since I first laid eyes on my sweet babies. They’ve now officially been outside babies for longer than they grew inside my body.
KAPOW! (that was my mind exploding – yours, too?)
They play with toys. They chatter and babble and mimic and are starting to laugh sometimes. They all love to stand (with assistance) and deliver huge smiles when you bounce them on your lap. They notice each other frequently and are sometimes reacting to each other’s moods. Toby’s eyes well up with tears when Eleanor cries, and the girls both fuss and act concerned when Toby cries. It doesn’t happen all the time (thank goodness), but I find myself holding my breath and checking the other babies while I console the sad baby.
We’re trying to get out more, to show them more of their world than our little house, but it’s difficult with three good sleepers who love their naps and don’t want to wait up while mama hits up the milk machine. But it happens sometimes. (It’s also difficult when a certain someone whose name starts with E doesn’t like her routine to change a tiny bit.)
Everyone had a fantastic six-month well-child checkup. They all showed off how well they stand and hold their trunks and heads strong while sitting. Toby flirted with the doctor, Callista chattered the whole time, and Eleanor? Well, she should have been home in her crib, napping. Let’s just say she was unhappy absolutely pissed that her routine had been messed with.
Then came the shots. Oh, the shots. Eleanor surprisingly recovered quickest followed by Toby. Callista whimpered until about five minutes after we were already in the car on the way home.
Then, at 2 in the morning, Toby woke up crying. He sometimes does that, so I wasn’t alarmed. I went in and tried soothing him without moving him much, but when he didn’t calm after about a minute, I picked him up. He was BLAZING hot, which snapped me out of my 2-a.m. haze right away. I gave him Tylenol and went to wake Rob so he could get the girls up for their own dose before they got too uncomfortable. As I was waking him, Callista’s cries sounded over the monitor.
I ended up stripping both babies and myself for a late-night nurse-and-cuddle session (recalling from our NICU days that skin-to-skin contact with mothers helps regulate babies body temperatures and recalling a study I heard about that said breastmilk is a fantastic analgesic for sad babies). As I was getting myself into place, Rob was taking the girls’ temperatures and fixing a small bottle for Eleanor. Milk in their bellies and nothing on but diapers, I cuddled two while Rob cuddled one, the five of us tired and sad on our couches in the middle of the night. Soon enough, the babies happily went back into their cribs, and we crawled back into our own bed, survivors of our first at-home “sick” experience.
Stupid immunizations. They’re mean sometimes.
The best news from the checkup was learning how much all three have grown. They’re finally on the growth charts for their actual age (although 99% of babies their age are bigger than them), but the doctor was really pleased to see their head circumferences are good for their age – Toby is at the 22nd percentile, and the girls are both at the 16th percentile. Their brains are developing and growing fantastically!
Some stats to blow you mind, in case the six-month thing didn’t.
Tobias, at birth, weighed 2 lb. 8 oz., was 14.37 in. long and had a head circumference of 26.5 cm.
At 6 months, Toby weighs 12 lb. 5 oz., is 23 in. long and has a head circumference of 42.4 cm.
Eleanor, at birth, weighed 2 lb. 5 oz., was 15 in. long and had a head circumference of 26.5 cm.
At 6 months, Eleanor weighs 11 lb. 2 oz., is 22 in. long and has a head circumference of 41 cm.
Callista, at birth, weighed 2 lb. 7.5 oz., was 15 in. long and had a head circumference of 26.5 cm.
At 6 months, Callista weighs 12 lb. 6 oz., is 23.75 in. long and has a head circumference of 41.4 cm.
THEY ARE HUGE.
They also just had their first “solid” (but seriously soupy) food yesterday – oatmeal made from ground steel-cut oats, water and breast milk.
Toby was super enthusiastic about getting the spoon in his mouth, grabbing for it and moving his head toward my hand with each bite.
Eleanor was rather pensive and seemed to study the new stuff in her mouth.
Callista was a total champ. It wasn’t long before she barely had any oatmeal anywhere but in her mouth, while her brother and sister had the typical dribbled baby-food mess.
They all three liked it a lot, though. Amazing!
(Toby, Eleanor, Callista)
and a bonus video, but we only got Eleanor:
We adults know the truth all too well – life isn’t fair. Children don’t know that, though. Rather, they shouldn’t – especially infants.
You know how the Internet is – click here, click there, and you end up somewhere you’ve never been and see something you never knew existed. Last night, wandering clicks introduced me to Owen, a gorgeous, chubby 6-month-old little boy with two triplet brothers.
He’s 11 days older than my trio, and he’s been fighting for his life this week. Today, his parents are preparing to say goodbye and to donate his body to help others in need.
I can’t imagine. I won’t try. I don’t want to diminish what the Bissing family is living right now. While I can’t imagine the pain this family is facing, I can imagine the financial burden. It should come as no surprise that triplets are expensive to raise, but they’re also expensive to birth. This family, like ours, has happily done what they could to pay hospital bills, to cut back on family expenses, to provide a loving home that meets everyone’s needs.
Now they’ll add to that burden paying for Owen’s final hospital bills, his funeral, a memorial.
I’ve been praying for them nonstop since learning about Owen, but I want to do more. Our own finances limit what I can give, but I know that isn’t just a triplet-family thing.
If you can help, will you? Help this family ease their financial burden. Help them buy a meal out so they don’t have to cook. Help them raise money to make a special place for Owen to leave a physical mark on the world he left so soon.
Read about Owen and his fight at the Bissing family’s blog and give $1 of your hard-earned coin at his very own Owen blog.
Please. Thank you.
I used to spend hours in the NICU. Many wondered what I did in all that time.
I’d sit and stare. I’d stare at the monitors. I’d stare at the babies. I’d watch for connections between their actions and the alarms. I’d pump in the corner, watching Netflix on my iPod Touch while listening for beeps, sighs or cries.
I (eventually) held my babies while they slept. I held their hands and rested a hand on their head if they were having a procedure.
I watched. I listened. For hours.
Now, the hours fly by as we bounce through our daily routine of eat, play, sleep (for the babies) or prepare/feed, play, pump, eat, clean, rest, blog, tweet, e-mail, blah, blah, blah (for me). Now, the hours I once spent by their bedsides have dwindled into just moments.
An occasional mid-nap fussy baby captures my attention, and I find myself unable to leave their room even after I’ve calmed the storm. I stand, holding my breath in the quiet of their room at home – so different from the noise of their NICU rooms, and watch them sleep again. I study their toes, their fingers, the way they hold their mouths, the way their hair is growing in and filling their fuzzy little heads.
They’ve changed so much. Callista sucks her thumb. Eleanor sucks her fingers. Toby sleeps best with his arms at his sides. I used to pop pacifiers back in desperately sleepy mouths. Now they do their own thing, and my attempts to help are met with tossed heads and annoyance at my interfering.
I want to spend more time watching them, but I’m afraid a cracked-open eye will spot me, smile and be too distracted to get the sleep that’s so needed. I’m afraid the nap time will zoom by, and I will still have laundry left to do, milk left to store, food left to eat.
What I fear most, though, is time speeding by and stealing all opportunities to watch my babies sleep. Everything else can wait a few extra minutes. I need to drink this in before it’s gone.
photo by Ken Blaze
Four years of marriage are behind us now, and this past year has been the fullest.
Nothing about this past year has been easy, from learning we were expecting triplets to learning how to be parents to tiny babies in plastic boxes to learning how ugly we get on no sleep in the wee hours of the night.
The difficult times make the good times sweeter, knowing that, no matter what problems come our way, no matter what obstacles attempt to block our path, no matter what demons we think we’re fighting alone, he is mine, and I am his. Best friends, partners, soulmates. Always and forever.
Happy anniversary, Rob. Thank you for always being my biggest fan, even when you want to flick me in the forehead. xoxoxo
Clockwise, from left: Eleanor, Callista, Tobias – all 3 enjoying their Sophie giraffes from their Auntie Sara.
