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Archive for the ‘My precious angels’ Category

My babies are FIVE MONTHS OLD today. Can you believe that I’m such a lazy sloth that in FIVE MONTHS I still haven’t managed to write about the day of their birth??? Man, I suck. Maybe before they’re six months old. Hah, I say, Hah!

It didn’t escape my notice, though I failed to find the time to make a blog post, that February 14th marked an anniversary for us. A year ago, in the midst of a pretty nasty ice storm, despite J having school cancelled, and terrible road conditions, S and I dragged ourselves out to the clinic for IUI day, for an IUI that was doomed to fail. The IUI was SO definitely going to fail that I had my IVF consult two days later and Dr. Amazing told me flat out that it was time to move on, and there was no way I was going to get a positive beta out of that ridiculous cycle. Everything went wrong with that cycle. Everything. Except my three precious miracles. They were right. A year later and here I am, looking at my three beautiful babies, and I know that no matter how WRONG that cycle was… everything was exactly right.

I cried tears of emptiness every day that I didn’t have any babies in my arms. And I cry tears of joy every day now that my beautiful babies are here. S heard me say that to someone recently and asked if I meant that literally. “I mean, I know that I’m dense sometimes, but did I miss you crying every day?” In the beginning, no, I didn’t literally cry tears every single day… but by the end… yeah, I really did. Not sobbing, wretching, buckets of tears, but I wiped a tear or two off my cheek every day toward the end. Especially after the miscarriage. And now, sometimes I stand over my babies’ crib at night and hold their tiny little hands as they sleep and I’m so overwhelmed with joy and love and even a little sadness for all the years of loss… that I still wipe a tear away. But these are hard-earned tears, and I wouldn’t give them up for anything.

And our babies…our beautiful babies… they’re growing up. I went through and took out all their Newborn clothes from their shelves. And I even took out all of Sam’s 0-3 month sized clothes. Ellie still fits in 0-3 month clothes (and even some NB clothes, but I put those away anyway, since she’s not lacking for clothes). They’re getting bigger every day, and it’s so funny to see it happen right before my eyes. My nanny tells me things don’t fit and I don’t believe her and then I take a look and it’s true! How could this be!? But, despite my belief that they are as teeney as the day they were born, they just aren’t. Abby is over three times her birth weight, and Sam is getting close to three times his birth weight. Ellie’s not there yet, but she’s finally double her birth weight, which is astounding. They just keep getting bigger and bigger.

In other milestones, Sam learned a new trick last week… If I leave the room and he cries, I come back! Yep, he’s got me wrapped around his little finger. And when I walk back in the room, he smiles and coos and calms right down. And then if I walk back out of the room, he starts fussing again! And so it goes… He’s still my little piggy and he wants to eat ALL NIGHT LONG nearly every hour and I have no idea how to break him of this habit, because he’s clearly truly hungry when he wakes up. I tried explaining to him logically last night that Dr. B. said that at his weight he should be ABLE to sleep through the night, but Sam was having nothing to do with it and he responded quite indignantly.

Abby is our smiliest baby who coos the most of all. Yesterday S even got her to giggle for the first time! More significantly, this week she started sleeping laying flat in the pack n’ play. She had been sleeping in a bouncy chair, which was really aggravating, because I was totally convinced she was never going to sleep in a crib, ever, but it’s finally happening! Best of all, she wakes up happy and smiling in the morning, which is a beautiful thing.

Ellie didn’t grow at all last week, but it’s clear that she’s growing now. She’s far more alert now than she was even last week, and she’s not nearly so skeletal looking. You can still see her ribs, but her thighs are chunking out a little and her face has a little more pudge to it. She’s finally got enough fat on her face that we’ve discovered she has dimples! Now that she’s more alert, she’s been rewarding us with lots of beautiful smiles. She’s also been fussing more than she had been, but I take that as a sign that she’s more aware of her environment, so it’s a good thing. She has another appointment on Friday, and I expect that she will have grown a bit then, so we’ll see. She still has a gastroenterology follow up scheduled next week. I haven’t cancelled it yet, but I suspect I might. I feel like her pediatrician is handling it appropriately and I don’t see how the gastroenterologist will really add anything of value at this point. We’ll see.

My father and his wife are coming to visit this weekend. It’s the first time they’ve seen the babies since the day the babies were discharged from the NICU, over four months ago. Amazing how time flies when you’re sleep-deprived. In many ways, parenting triplets (so far) has been a million times easier than I expected it to be. In other ways, it has been far more challenging than I could ever describe. I don’t feel like it’s more than I can handle, but I feel terribly inadequate for the job. I fear that I will be an inadequate parent for my children…that I will shortchange them in ways that I might not have if I’d had them one at a time. I fear that they will miss out on the individual attention they should be getting. I fear that J is missing out on individual attention that HE should be getting right now. But I also know that these are all fears I’d be having even with a singleton. I know that all parents fear inadequacy, and I know that the only thing I can ask of myself is that I strive to be the best parent I CAN be on any given day. Some days that will be enough, and some days it won’t be, but every day it will be as much as it can be and that’s really all I can ask of myself today.

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My babies are FIVE MONTHS OLD today. Can you believe that I'm such a lazy sloth that in FIVE MONTHS I still haven't managed to write about the day of their birth??? Man, I suck. Maybe before they're six months old. Hah, I say, Hah!

It didn't escape my notice, though I failed to find the time to make a blog post, that February 14th marked an anniversary for us. A year ago, in the midst of a pretty nasty ice storm, despite J having school cancelled, and terrible road conditions, S and I dragged ourselves out to the clinic for IUI day, for an IUI that was doomed to fail. The IUI was SO definitely going to fail that I had my IVF consult two days later and Dr. Amazing told me flat out that it was time to move on, and there was no way I was going to get a positive beta out of that ridiculous cycle. Everything went wrong with that cycle. Everything. Except my three precious miracles. They were right. A year later and here I am, looking at my three beautiful babies, and I know that no matter how WRONG that cycle was… everything was exactly right.

I cried tears of emptiness every day that I didn't have any babies in my arms. And I cry tears of joy every day now that my beautiful babies are here. S heard me say that to someone recently and asked if I meant that literally. "I mean, I know that I'm dense sometimes, but did I miss you crying every day?" In the beginning, no, I didn't literally cry tears every single day… but by the end… yeah, I really did. Not sobbing, wretching, buckets of tears, but I wiped a tear or two off my cheek every day toward the end. Especially after the miscarriage. And now, sometimes I stand over my babies' crib at night and hold their tiny little hands as they sleep and I'm so overwhelmed with joy and love and even a little sadness for all the years of loss… that I still wipe a tear away. But these are hard-earned tears, and I wouldn't give them up for anything.

And our babies…our beautiful babies… they're growing up. I went through and took out all their Newborn clothes from their shelves. And I even took out all of Sam's 0-3 month sized clothes. Ellie still fits in 0-3 month clothes (and even some NB clothes, but I put those away anyway, since she's not lacking for clothes). They're getting bigger every day, and it's so funny to see it happen right before my eyes. My nanny tells me things don't fit and I don't believe her and then I take a look and it's true! How could this be!? But, despite my belief that they are as teeney as the day they were born, they just aren't. Abby is over three times her birth weight, and Sam is getting close to three times his birth weight. Ellie's not there yet, but she's finally double her birth weight, which is astounding. They just keep getting bigger and bigger.

In other milestones, Sam learned a new trick last week… If I leave the room and he cries, I come back! Yep, he's got me wrapped around his little finger. And when I walk back in the room, he smiles and coos and calms right down. And then if I walk back out of the room, he starts fussing again! And so it goes… He's still my little piggy and he wants to eat ALL NIGHT LONG nearly every hour and I have no idea how to break him of this habit, because he's clearly truly hungry when he wakes up. I tried explaining to him logically last night that Dr. B. said that at his weight he should be ABLE to sleep through the night, but Sam was having nothing to do with it and he responded quite indignantly.

Abby is our smiliest baby who coos the most of all. Yesterday S even got her to giggle for the first time! More significantly, this week she started sleeping laying flat in the pack n' play. She had been sleeping in a bouncy chair, which was really aggravating, because I was totally convinced she was never going to sleep in a crib, ever, but it's finally happening! Best of all, she wakes up happy and smiling in the morning, which is a beautiful thing.

Ellie didn't grow at all last week, but it's clear that she's growing now. She's far more alert now than she was even last week, and she's not nearly so skeletal looking. You can still see her ribs, but her thighs are chunking out a little and her face has a little more pudge to it. She's finally got enough fat on her face that we've discovered she has dimples! Now that she's more alert, she's been rewarding us with lots of beautiful smiles. She's also been fussing more than she had been, but I take that as a sign that she's more aware of her environment, so it's a good thing. She has another appointment on Friday, and I expect that she will have grown a bit then, so we'll see. She still has a gastroenterology follow up scheduled next week. I haven't cancelled it yet, but I suspect I might. I feel like her pediatrician is handling it appropriately and I don't see how the gastroenterologist will really add anything of value at this point. We'll see.

My father and his wife are coming to visit this weekend. It's the first time they've seen the babies since the day the babies were discharged from the NICU, over four months ago. Amazing how time flies when you're sleep-deprived. In many ways, parenting triplets (so far) has been a million times easier than I expected it to be. In other ways, it has been far more challenging than I could ever describe. I don't feel like it's more than I can handle, but I feel terribly inadequate for the job. I fear that I will be an inadequate parent for my children…that I will shortchange them in ways that I might not have if I'd had them one at a time. I fear that they will miss out on the individual attention they should be getting. I fear that J is missing out on individual attention that HE should be getting right now. But I also know that these are all fears I'd be having even with a singleton. I know that all parents fear inadequacy, and I know that the only thing I can ask of myself is that I strive to be the best parent I CAN be on any given day. Some days that will be enough, and some days it won't be, but every day it will be as much as it can be and that's really all I can ask of myself today.

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I’m still alive! I’m here and well! I have a minute because I’m here attached to a breast pump, which seems to be my fate in life for the next while… at least until the babies come home (and then, hopefully, I’ll just be attached to them forever). Moo. There are so many overwhelming details of the last few days that I can’t possibly summarize them except to say, “Wow.” It is utterly (udderly?) amazing to be thinking of my three babies with actual names and faces now. They are actual little people, not just tiny little parasites anymore!

What’s that you say? Did I mention… names?

Well, the girls have names. Officially even. Our beautiful boy has part of a name, but we’re not disclosing it quite yet. This won’t make sense to some of you and others of you are saying, “well, of course not!” So let me explain. Jewish boys are given their names officially at their bris (circumcision), which generally speaking is 8 days after birth, or as soon as medically possible after that if medical reasons preclude a bris at 8 days. For families giving their children very different English and Hebrew names, sometimes they still immediately name their boys with an English name, but halachically (that is, according to Jewish law), a child’s “official” name is the one bestowed upon him at his bris. Does that make any sense? In our case, we’re not giving a completely different English name, so we’re not telling. Yet.

Girls are a different story. Girls can be named in the synagogue as early as the next time the Torah is read in the morning services. Torah is read on Mondays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Even better, the girls don’t have to be present to be given their names… nor does the mother. The father simply announces the name in a special bracha (blessing/prayer) before a portion of the Torah is read. So the girls could have been named as early as Thursday, and they would have been except that I had a miserable, horrible, awful night Wednesday night/Thursday morning and ended up calling my husband in hysterical tears at 6am on Thursday and he came to the hospital to be with me and to speak with a nurse manager instead. That’s part of the longer delivery and post-partum story which I’ll put together in the next few days, but is relevant here only as explanation for why the girls didn’t get named on Thursday, even though we did pick their names (FINALLY! Seriously, we were entirely nameless until the night before the surgery). So they didn’t receive their names until Saturday, which was, conveniently, also Yom Kippur. The holiest day on the Jewish calendar. An auspicious day, to say the least, to receive your name.

So yes, our girls have names. Have I teased you long enough?

Our beautiful Baby C, our tiny one, currently weighing in at two and a half pounds, is Avigayil (Abigail) Nechama. We’ll call her Abby. Avigayil, or Abigail, means My Father’s Joy and Nechama means Comfort. She may have caused all the trouble that led us to having to deliver quickly, but she is her father’s joy and comfort … trust me… you should see him with her. They are amazing together. I know some of you are wondering how to pronounce Nechama, and it’s hard to spell phonetically, but I’ll tell you that the “ch” is pronounced like the “ch” in “Loch Ness Monster”, not like the “ch” in “charm”. It’s a Hebrew name.

And our gorgeous baby B, our biggest baby right now at three and a half pounds, is Eliana Miriam. We’ll call her Ellie. Eliana means My God has Answered. As you know, we prayed for a child. I, specifically, prayed for a singleton. God answered “No” to my request for a singleton… in triplicate. He was right. I was wrong. They are so worth it. Every last miserable second of this pregnancy was worth these precious angels. My God did, indeed, answer every one of my prayers with these beautiful, perfect babies. We chose the middle name “Miriam” less for the meaning and more because she is a strong and beautiful Biblical character, just as we know that our Ellie is strong and beautiful. Look what she’s already accomplished, after all.

And our beautiful boy will receive his name when he is ready, but for now I’ll call him Smiley, because he smiles all the time, and because he brings smiles to our faces every day.

I cannot begin to tell each of you how much your kind words and thoughts have meant to me. Shelby and Desiree came to visit me before I delivered when I was in the hospital and came bearing gifts on behalf of the DC infertility blogging crew, which was absolutely amazing of them. I am overwhelmed with the love and support which has come from each and every one of you, local and far, anonymous and named. I’ve written back to some of you, but not others, which has been mostly a function of time and energy (and availability of email addresses), not a function of how much your words have affected me. I love each and every one of you. I cried and cried when I saw Jessica’s slide show (my husband downloaded it for me so I could see it in the hospital and I called her bawling) and I saw that many of you cried right along with me. I’m still crying just thinking of it.

There is a lot more to tell and many more pictures to post, but I’m done pumping (MOO!) and I’m exhausted (go figure), so those things will have to wait for another free moment (don’t worry… I pump a LOT). I love you guys. Thank you. Really. For everything.

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I'm still alive! I'm here and well! I have a minute because I'm here attached to a breast pump, which seems to be my fate in life for the next while… at least until the babies come home (and then, hopefully, I'll just be attached to them forever). Moo. There are so many overwhelming details of the last few days that I can't possibly summarize them except to say, "Wow." It is utterly (udderly?) amazing to be thinking of my three babies with actual names and faces now. They are actual little people, not just tiny little parasites anymore!

What's that you say? Did I mention… names?

Well, the girls have names. Officially even. Our beautiful boy has part of a name, but we're not disclosing it quite yet. This won't make sense to some of you and others of you are saying, "well, of course not!" So let me explain. Jewish boys are given their names officially at their bris (circumcision), which generally speaking is 8 days after birth, or as soon as medically possible after that if medical reasons preclude a bris at 8 days. For families giving their children very different English and Hebrew names, sometimes they still immediately name their boys with an English name, but halachically (that is, according to Jewish law), a child's "official" name is the one bestowed upon him at his bris. Does that make any sense? In our case, we're not giving a completely different English name, so we're not telling. Yet.

Girls are a different story. Girls can be named in the synagogue as early as the next time the Torah is read in the morning services. Torah is read on Mondays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Even better, the girls don't have to be present to be given their names… nor does the mother. The father simply announces the name in a special bracha (blessing/prayer) before a portion of the Torah is read. So the girls could have been named as early as Thursday, and they would have been except that I had a miserable, horrible, awful night Wednesday night/Thursday morning and ended up calling my husband in hysterical tears at 6am on Thursday and he came to the hospital to be with me and to speak with a nurse manager instead. That's part of the longer delivery and post-partum story which I'll put together in the next few days, but is relevant here only as explanation for why the girls didn't get named on Thursday, even though we did pick their names (FINALLY! Seriously, we were entirely nameless until the night before the surgery). So they didn't receive their names until Saturday, which was, conveniently, also Yom Kippur. The holiest day on the Jewish calendar. An auspicious day, to say the least, to receive your name.

So yes, our girls have names. Have I teased you long enough?

Our beautiful Baby C, our tiny one, currently weighing in at two and a half pounds, is Avigayil (Abigail) Nechama. We'll call her Abby. Avigayil, or Abigail, means My Father's Joy and Nechama means Comfort. She may have caused all the trouble that led us to having to deliver quickly, but she is her father's joy and comfort … trust me… you should see him with her. They are amazing together. I know some of you are wondering how to pronounce Nechama, and it's hard to spell phonetically, but I'll tell you that the "ch" is pronounced like the "ch" in "Loch Ness Monster", not like the "ch" in "charm". It's a Hebrew name.

And our gorgeous baby B, our biggest baby right now at three and a half pounds, is Eliana Miriam. We'll call her Ellie. Eliana means My God has Answered. As you know, we prayed for a child. I, specifically, prayed for a singleton. God answered "No" to my request for a singleton… in triplicate. He was right. I was wrong. They are so worth it. Every last miserable second of this pregnancy was worth these precious angels. My God did, indeed, answer every one of my prayers with these beautiful, perfect babies. We chose the middle name "Miriam" less for the meaning and more because she is a strong and beautiful Biblical character, just as we know that our Ellie is strong and beautiful. Look what she's already accomplished, after all.

And our beautiful boy will receive his name when he is ready, but for now I'll call him Smiley, because he smiles all the time, and because he brings smiles to our faces every day.

I cannot begin to tell each of you how much your kind words and thoughts have meant to me. Shelby and Desiree came to visit me before I delivered when I was in the hospital and came bearing gifts on behalf of the DC infertility blogging crew, which was absolutely amazing of them. I am overwhelmed with the love and support which has come from each and every one of you, local and far, anonymous and named. I've written back to some of you, but not others, which has been mostly a function of time and energy (and availability of email addresses), not a function of how much your words have affected me. I love each and every one of you. I cried and cried when I saw Jessica's slide show (my husband downloaded it for me so I could see it in the hospital and I called her bawling) and I saw that many of you cried right along with me. I'm still crying just thinking of it.

There is a lot more to tell and many more pictures to post, but I'm done pumping (MOO!) and I'm exhausted (go figure), so those things will have to wait for another free moment (don't worry… I pump a LOT). I love you guys. Thank you. Really. For everything.

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