Three Months

They are still alive.







.

Happy Turkey

Thanksgiving this year found us once again in Laurel, MD at my aunt and uncle's house. The drive down was a dream. No traffic and no crying. Woohoo!

As you can see, the triplets are getting big.


Elizabeth giving a sense of scale.


They were so big, in fact, that they couldn't sleep side by side in the portacrib.


It was wonderful to have so many helping hands.


Hannah, Adam's sister who is staying with us for a while, was gracious enough to come with us and help out. First and foremost amongst her duties was passing on her legendary Guitar Hero skills. It is the stuff of legend.


She also accompanied me on my first ever Black Friday Crack-o-Dawn Shopping Excursion. There were a few door busters I'd had my eye on and so, after the 3 AM feeding, we threw on some clothes and jumped in the van and made our way to Target. After scoring our new camera for half the price, we went to the nearby mega mall, Arundel Mills.

This place is a mile around and can be seen from space! Okay, so maybe not from space, but definitely from the secret spy cameras in the unmarked helicopters that fly over my uncle's work. (the NSA.) Here is photographic proof that this mall is a BEAST:


And Hannah and I tamed that beast. Oh yes we did. We didn't quit until 11 AM. That's seven straight hours of shopping. By the end of it, my feet were sore, my mind was numb, and I found myself wandering lost and alone in the back of an Old Navy carrying a blouse that I didn't even like to the dressing room. Time to go home. But the savings were insane. I bought stuff from stores I would never be able to afford otherwise. Like the super-cute shirt from Esprit that was originally $80 that I got for $14!!! I've decided the crowds are worth it and that from now on I will be doing ALL my clothes shopping on Black Friday.

Of course, no trip out of NYC would be complete w/out going to see the latest blockbuster. This time it was the much-anticipated Harry Potter 7.0


One word: AWESOME.

The weekend had to end sometime and Sunday found me pretty heavyhearted. Back to Brooklyn. Back to reality. The drive home was almost twice as long and full of babies crying inconsolably. But we made it home in one piece (except my sanity which has been spotty at best lately.) And that was our Thanksgiving! Who's ready for Christmas?

Did She Really Just Say That?

"It's mine! I share with me."

"I need attention!"

An exchange:
"Who do you want to give you your bath? Mommy or Daddy?
Daddy!
Why not mommy?
You burn it!
I burn it?
Yeah. You burn the bath."

Another exchange:
"How was nursery?
Good.
What did you do?
I play, sing songs, eat fishes and crackers.
Who was there? Were your friends there?
Yeah! Garrett and Tommy and London and London was crying and Tommy was crying and . . .
Were you crying?
No. I'm happy."

As we are eating dinner, we hear Adam arriving home from work.
To me: "Daddy's home!"
Shouting over her shoulder: "Daddy! Wash your hands!!"
Ever since the Swine Flu scare, I'm always reminding him to wash his hands after he's ridden on the subway.

"Elizabeth," I say as I sit on the floor, "let's clean up these toys." I start to sing the clean-up song. "Okay," she says, climbing onto the couch. "I watch."

I'm having a rough day and I've burst into tears.
"Mommy! It's okay! Be happy!"

Elizabeth's Blessing of Dinner

Heavenly Father,

Thank you for lunch.
Thank you for mac and cheese.
Thank you for [unintelligible.]
Please bink [?] Mommy and Daddy and Charles and Lucy and Charles . . .

[Mom whispers "and Eddie."]

And Eddie.

[With prompting] In Jesus name,

AMEN!!

Two Months

Can you believe it?

So what have we been up to?

Some of this.

Eddie

Not enough of this.

Charles

And mostly feeling like doing this.

Lucy

We've had a lot of help.

Super Pumpa

Aunt Amy

The Beautiful Soletas

And sometimes it's just me.

We've even managed to get out of the house.


Aren't we the happy family? (Notice the babies are quiet.)


But don't let the smiles fool you. Most days end with us wanting to do this. Is she sleeping or screaming?

Megan, Adam's little sister. What a trooper!

The babies are all chunking up nicely, especially Lucy. They are still eating every three hours and they sleep a lot, though they tend to wake up during naps way too much. It can be rather maddening, playing the binky game.

Lucy has pretty bad reflux and is on a modified formula as well as medicine. And she recently developed thrush, which we're afraid she may have passed to Eddie. So the poor thing gets medicine four times a day. But they're all thriving and for that we're grateful. Charlie is the best eater and sleeper. Eddie is totally caught up with feedings and they all get 4 ounces each time. Best of all, we've started getting smiles out of Lucy and Charles. Since they're 8 1/2 weeks, I figure they're only a few weeks "behind." Tomorrow is their doctor appointment (shots!) so we'll post their stats later. Wish us luck!

Two Years Today

Crazy about this kid.

One Month

We survived. Barely.


The kids are getting along well.


Lucy is by far the chunkiest.


They're all still very sleepy.


Don't let this picture fool you. Most of the time she's pulling hair and grabbing noses. "HONK!"


People wonder how I have time to do anything on the internet. I must confess, it's kind of my drug—an escape I can take five minutes at a time. I should be napping. I should be cleaning. I should be pumping. But this is where I end up.

Our Little Helper

Two Weeks

C, E, and L

Hard to believe. It's been the longest two weeks of my life, that's for sure. Round the clock feedings, near-comatose preemies, and a very excited but very volatile big sister make for some crazy times. But our stress level was significantly reduced when we took them for their weight check on Friday and found out that they all have gained plenty of weight, even Eddie. The doctor says he's in the clear and, though we still feed him more frequently than the other two, he's progressing well and eating at least 2 oz each feeding. HUGE SIGH OF RELIEF!! Charlie is over 6 lbs in fact and he and Lucy have exceeded their birth weight.


Our good friend, M, came by one day to take Elizabeth with her and her son to the playground and brought this double-stroller, which she said she was throwing away. I quickly asked if we could have it and she graciously agreed. This is a picture of our first ever excursion. We walked around the block. It was liberating.

Super G-Ma. Adam and I left three sleeping babies for just 45 min and came back to this.

My mom left on Saturday. That was a very hard goodbye. Things have been up and down since. I felt pretty good over the weekend. We managed at night with just the two of us, mostly because Adam kindly fed two babies and I just nursed one. And we had a lot of help on Saturday. But this morning a heavy fog of depression seemed to settle down on me. It's lifted somewhat as the day has gone on, but it varies according to how well feeding, especially nursing, goes. This morning, I couldn't bring myself to face any of it. I had no patience for Elizabeth. I let Adam do everything. I just didn't care. It's hard to feel a deep, bonding love for three newborns at once. At least, it's been hard for me. I never feel like I'm giving enough, and yet I don't know how I can give more and stay alive. For the moment, at least, I'm stable. I hope it lasts.


Charlie, our first-born, was the first to loose his umbilical cord and therefore got to have his first bath. You can't tell by the picture but he liked it. He's a snuggler. He sleeps a lot better being held. But he's also a pain to change his diaper b/c he ALWAYS pees. This is a new thing for me, projectile urination. Lucy is easy-going. She sleeps well and eats well, from a bottle. But she spits up a ton so we put her to bed in her car seat. And Eddie is Eddie. He's just happy to be here. And he's eating more each day. They all are. They still take a lot of attention to feed and I'm just waiting for the day when I can pop a bottle in each mouth and they can do their thing. But until then, I better sign off and get some rest before the next one has to eat.

Sleepy Time

Eddie, Charlie, and Lucy

Eddie somehow ended up in a pink blanket.

Birth story to follow. The whole hospital stay was kind of traumatic so I'm still processing. But we're home. They're healthy. Eddie of course needs all the attention still, and so is having a hard time eating enough. But we're working on it and trying to stay sane on the negligible sleep we're getting.

Meet Lucy, Edward, and Charles

Final Thoughts

My brain seems too scattered to organize my thoughts into something cohesive. So I apologize for the randomness of the following. But I just wanted to put down what I was thinking and feeling the day before the triplets are born.

What a strange thing to know when your child is going to be born. I can see why it would appeal to a certain personality. But I prefer the unknown of spontaneous labor, mostly b/c, as time passes, the number of days I have left have been inversely proportional to how many hours of sleep I get at night.

We still don't know what we're going to name them. We have a list we keep messing with, but we're waiting until we see them. I think, though, that I've just been putting it off. I wish we'd put more time into it. But it's too late now.

It's hard to think I won't be pregnant anymore. GLORIOUS to think, but hard to imagine. I feel like I've been pregnant forever. This has obviously been the harder of the two pregnancies, but from what I've heard and read, I've had a very easy triplet pregnancy. And it's pretty much a miracle I've lasted this long. The average gestational age for triplets is 32 weeks. I read somewhere that 70% of triplet-carrying women had to be hospitalized before delivery. I have felt from early on that everything would be fine with this pregnancy. That I wouldn't loose one of them; that I would carry them as long as possible; that they would be healthy and whole. Whatever their birth weight or the length of their stay in the hospital, I feel very blessed and give all the credit to God.

I often wonder if Elizabeth has any concept of what is about to happen. But then, I don't know if I do either. There are so many unknowns. I am grateful I won't have to re-learn how to be a mother—that I've already been a new mom and won't be gripped by the same fears. But the ins and outs of how we'll care for three newborns and a toddler are like a big, black cloud of uncertainty, hanging over my head. My mom, along with everyone, keeps telling me to just take things one day at a time, one task at a time. Things will work out. But I wish I knew what I was in for. A friend asked about what kind of system or help we have lined up, but with all the variables, I haven't made much preparation, especially since we don't know how long, if at all, they'll be in the NICU. I know the ward is ready to jump in any time. But there are 5, count 'em, 5 other women having babies in the next few months. The poor Relief Society is going to be babied out by the time it's all over. Good thing we're getting ours in first. :) For live-in help, my mom is here until the middle of September, after which Adam will use his vacation time he's saved up to stay home (if he can wait that long.) After that, we're on our own. It will be a baptism by fire, I'm sure. One parent of triplets told me that if our marriage survives the first year, we'll be set for life.

The rest of my thoughts are scattered bits of strollers, epidurals, baby carriers, bottles, hospital gowns, and so on, combined with memories of Elizabeth's birth. How different this one will be!

Lastly, I have been moved and humbled by the outpouring of love and support. Besides many, many generous gifts, we've also gotten many offers of help, prayers, and well wishes. I sincerely thank all of you for your calls, emails, cards, and love. And now, on to the undiscovered country! This is Emily Johnson signing off. See you on the flip side!

1-2-3-4

special day.

love birds.

























babies on the way.




































incredible years.

D-Day

The c-section has been scheduled for September 3rd.

That's in two weeks.

What was it I learned from my Hitchhiker's Guide?

Oh yeah. DON'T PANIC!



P.S. My camera wasn't working, but friends have pictures of the baby shower here and here. It was awesome.

Quick Update

So I don't have to actually stick myself twice a day. Whew!

I'm receiving medicine from a pump that's hooked into my thigh. The medicine is supposed to lessen contractions. Grabbing a handful of fat and ramming that needle into my thigh was one of the scariest things I've ever done. I was totally crying. But guess what? It didn't hurt. Just like they said. I only have to do that every five days. And the nurse was really nice and said something like, "I've been a nurse for 20 years and I would still be hesitant to give myself an injection." So that made me feel a little less wussy.

I'm also supposed to monitor myself on this home uterine monitor-thing. Twice a day I strap this belt to my belly and have to lie still for an hour while it counts my contractions. And let me tell you, towards the end of the hour I want to rip the belt off and run screaming out the door. Actually, running screaming out the door is something I fantasize about often.

Aunt Kim has gone home and my Mom is on her way. I think these next few weeks are going to take all the mental and emotional toughness I have.

The Beginning of the End

Yo mamma's so fat, she doesn't fit her maternity clothes!

Well, we were lucky to get this far, but my days of skipping through the streets of Brooklyn are over for now.

At my appointment yesterday, the ultrasound showed that my cervix had shortened. And when the doc checked me, I was 1.5 cm dilated.

"So this means you're on bed rest," he said without hesitation. I think that's when my eyes started to glaze over.

Just a few minutes before, I had told him that my Braxton Hicks (or "fake") contractions were getting pretty intense. This had prompted him to decide that I was going off Procardia (a heart medicine that is supposed to put off labor) and going onto a new medicine that will be delivered via pump and needle.

"It's the size of a thumbtack. You just put it on your thigh and whack!" He slapped my thigh.

That was when I gave him my crazy stare—where you lower your brows but open your eyes really wide.

"It won't hurt," he assured me.

"Yeah right!" I shot back.

Somehow, this pump thing is accompanied by a monitor that I will have to use twice a day to check for contractions. The Fed Ex package arrived this morning. It's been shoved out of sight into a corner. I'll let the nurse who's coming to show me how to use it open it.

So after the announcement that I will have to start daily torture treatments, and that I would now be confined to my bed/couch for the rest of eternity (or until the babies come,) I was feeling a little . . . freaked OUT. "Hey! Somebody make this lady smile!" the doctor joked to the nurses. Har. Freakin. Har.

Thankfully, Kim is still here and staying until Saturday night. She's already stepped up her game, cooking dinner all by herself and making sure I'm watered and fed. Then, my mom comes Monday afternoon and she'll be with us for about four weeks. So these babies will have a four-week window to make their appearance, graduate out of the NICU, come home, get on a schedule, and start sleeping through the night. That's not too much to ask, right?

I'm cautiously optimistic about their development. So far, they're all three growing at about the same rate. The ultrasound showed them at 4 lbs and change, but of course it's a very rough estimate. Still, we're praying they'll make it to as close as 5 lbs as possible. We shall see.

So if any of you have been meaning to call and catch up, I'm TOTALLY AVAILABLE and most likely dying of boredom. How's that for subtle?

Ten Years

"Near the blue Ontario's waters, our Alma Mater dear. . ."

Two weekends ago, while commuting home before a visit to my parents house and to attend my ten year high school reunion, I reflected on where and who I was ten years later. On the subway I wrote:

Thinking about the past opens a sort of flood of emotions and memories. It is now 2010. When I look back at where I've come, I am pleased and slightly amazed. Never, Never, would I have imagined I'd live in Brooklyn and be married with almost four kids and be a decent designer working at a prestigious publishing house. I attribute it all to the Lord and His goodness.

As my wife and I walked to the door the night of the reunion, I was pretty nervous, walking into an unknown: of who I'd see, what they would think, and what we would talk about. Fortunately the night, and the trip overall, went better than I had hoped. I got to catch up with four of the seven friends I had hoped to see, and discovered that people don't change all that much.

The weekend was summer all wrapped into one. I finally got to show Emily the shores of Ontario and have a good salt-free swim. We enjoyed a bonfire, BBQ, and an amazing amateur fireworks display at an old friend's home. Elizabeth got to spend time with Aunt Megan, Gramma, Grampa, and Great Gramma. Emily enjoyed the frigid temperatures of the my parents home, while I got to dig in the dirt with Elizabeth, swing, and climb a tree. Unfortunately we didn't see much of Matt. My brother was busy in the shop working on Pedro (our former car) so that he could take us home to Brooklyn for his last family road trip.

Pedro has moved on to new owners and our family is moving on to new life experiences. But it's good to look back on the miles you've gone and how you've been helped along the way. —Adam

Playing with Great-Grandma

Tim and his wife, Rebecca.

Emily taking a break. We're talking with Sarah, one of Adam's closest friends in HS.

Another old friend, Josh, who runs his own tattoo parlor in Santa Barbara.

The reunion organizer asked Emily to pose sideways.

At Lake Ontario. Elizabeth has such good manners. Look at that pinky.

Daddy and daughter.

This, Too Shall Pass

This morning I was sitting with some friends—a young couple like Adam and me, who also have a little girl. They were off conversing about something and when I looked their way, the wife had her arms around the husband's neck and they were smiling and talking. I quickly looked away, though they weren't doing anything especially private. But in that moment, something inside me cried out in pain.

Pregnancy does strange things to you, and not just to your body. (Though those things are strange indeed. Who knew stretch marks could be blue?) I find myself startled when I see someone bend over to pick something up off the ground or when I see moms sitting on the floor with their children. At the post office, at a store, walking along a sidewalk, I feel bewildered and angry if I can't find anywhere to sit down. Why wouldn't they think of that? Doesn't everyone want to sit after five minutes on their feet? I wonder at the self-absorption that makes me see all the world through the lens of my own disabilities.

And it's not just the physical. As I watch romantic scenes in movies, I alternate between incredulity and bitter jealousy. How can she stand being so close to him? changes to why don't I feel like that anymore? It's not fair. I look at pictures of myself on various outings with Adam, before the pregnancy and even before Elizabeth, and I'm shocked by the change. I used to look so happy. So alive. I've never been one to think much of my looks. But at times I almost weep when I see how pretty I used to be. Or, more accurately, how pretty I used to feel. I used to be a wife, lover, friend, and mom. Now I feel like all I am is a walking baby incubator. I suppose that's why it hurt to see my friend with her arms around her husband's neck. There was no baby belly between them. No weight weighing her down. Just youth, happiness, and love.

Of course, I don't know the inner struggles my friend and her husband may be facing. And I know that, all too soon, I will remember, as I did after Elizabeth was born, how "easy" it was to take care of the triplets when they were inside me. But for now, like my toes, these things are hard to see.

Peter, James, and Joan?

Whoa Nelly! That's some belly!

Well I'm 27 1/2 weeks and the triplets are doing great. "Perfect" is the word my doctor used today. The two boys are 2 lbs 5 oz, and little Miss Piggy is 2 lbs 13 oz! So yes that's almost 7 pounds of baby inside me and I still have two months to go. In fact, the doctor said that since everything is going so well, he doesn't see why I won't make it to 36 weeks. Hooray! Oh, wait . . .

But all joking aside, I'm really grateful how well things are going. No shortening of the cervix. No bed rest. No hypertension. None of the manifold complications that are so common to multiple pregnancy. I do admit that at times, I almost wish I would be put on bed rest. Especially when it's as hot as it has been and my energy seems to drain away with every drop of sweat. But heat waves aside, I really don't have much to complain about.

So what about names? We actually sat down and made a list, with Kim's help. She looked up names on the Social Security website (mostly around the turn of the century) and we gave our thumbs up or down. We have a good list now, though Adam still stubbornly refuses to accept Dorothy. Grandma names are cool! So the debate goes on.

In the meantime, they're holding their own World Cup inside me. (I suspect a goal is scored every time they make me run to the bathroom.) And Baby A, the farthest one down, is doing his very best to break my pelvic bone. The little dears . . .