ChezPerky

Abigail: My beautiful baby girl.   You were once so teeney and fragile, and now you are healthy and  perfect.  While once we were afraid to touch you, now you are delicate, yet strong.  You are my most reserved baby.  You seem to calculate your moves very carefully before deciding where to go, who to look to.  You used to be a little more fussy, a little more anxious than the other two, but now you are very calm and quiet.  You watch everything around you and only seem to make noise when you have something important to communicate.  You don’t babble much, but I know you will when you’re ready.  You are very smart and you know how to get attention.  We think you were meant to be a singleton, some days – you prefer your solitude, you don’t care for the other babies to be crawling in your space, you don’t like it when they touch you or the toys you’re playing with.  You respond better to adults when you are the only baby in the room.  You seem happiest when you have one-on-one time with an adult and the other babies are in another room.  You are my pickiest eater, but you certainly don’t seem to be suffering for it.  You were the second to roll over, the first to stand, the second to crawl, and you have absolutely NO interest whatsoever in walking.  You have seven teeth, one more than each of your siblings.  You were, in fact, the first baby to get teeth.  You used to be very stingy with your smiles, but now you freely give them away and you giggle for us, too.  You have ten perfect little fingers, and ten really long toes to go along with your really long skinny feet.  I wonder if perhaps someday you’ll be tall, like your father, though for now, you (like your brother and sister) are short.  No matter, because to me, you’re perfect.  I just love you so, so much my beautiful little girl.

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Eliana:  My happy baby girl. You are the one who is the easiest to get to laugh and giggle and smile.  It is such a blessing to have such a happy baby.  You are always smiling now.  We spent a long time worrying about you, but now you are healthy and thriving and gorgeous.  You were the last to roll over, the last to stand, the last to crawl, but the first to take a step, and you seem like you’ll be the first to walk.  You have six teeth and you love to chew on anything you can get your little paws on.  You like to play peek-a-boo with SuperNanny.  You are the most patient of the bunch and don’t mind waiting your turn when you have to.  We try not to take advantage of that wonderful trait of yours; and I hope that we are fair in the future about that.  Meanwhile, we thank you for being the "easy" one.  There had to be one easy one, right?  (and it’s not like you didn’t give us your share of trouble what with the bradycardias, the heart monitor, the failure to thrive…).  I just love you so, so much, my happy little girl.

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Sam :  My snuggly boy.  You always have wanted to be as close to mommy as possible, even since your NICU days.  You turned toward my voice from the first time you heard me coming, and now you reach for me when you see me, and you crawl toward me as quickly as you can when I enter the room.  You love to eat anything I put in front of you, especially broccoli kugel.  You were the first to roll over, the second to stand, the last to figure out object permance.  You are the only baby who still uses a pacifier, but you only use it in the crib to sleep.  You look just like your father did at your age and you’ve got his gigantic feet, too.  You have six perfect little teeth, ten beautiful little fingers, and gigantic toes on those monster feet of yours.  I just love you so, so much, little man.

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A year ago tonight, my friend came and visited me in the hospital and took the last pregnancy belly shot of me that was going to be taken before I delivered my three babies.  I dragged myself out of bed and put on real clothes to get this picture.  I gave myself a demand dose of terbutaline to get me through the night because the contractions that resulted from that little bit of exertion were unbearable – but so worth it to get this last picture. 

Tomorrow at 9:43 and 9:44, my babies my babies will have been in this world for an entire year.    I just can’t believe it.   

I returned Maggie Moo today.  Maggie is my hospital-grade pump.  I’m still pumping, but not so much that I can justify the monthly fee anymore.  I never expected that returning a pump would be an emotional day for me, but it really is.  It’s moving on to a new stage of my relationship with my children, and I’m just not sure I’m ready to be done with this part of motherhood.  I worked so hard to have this – and now, with so little fanfare, I’m reaching the end of this part of mommyhood.  I’m only pumping once a day now.  Sam and Ellie nurse in the morning and right before bed, but honestly, they are nearly ready to drop both of those feedings, it’s me that’s holding on to them.  Soon this will all be a thing of the past.

Tomorrow I’ll post more about the triplets’ first birthday.  Once I figure out what to say.  For now… I’m at a total loss for words.

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Some days I can’t figure out how to fill the void that is
between all the activity. I wonder how
it is that I ever could have thought that I’m busy. I wonder why it is that everyone seems to
think I have so much to do. Some days I
can’t figure out why it is that no one else can’t figure out how to accomplish
8 things at once, and why it is that I’m the only octopus around. 

Yesterday was not one of those days. Yesterday was jam-packed from the instant I
woke up.

5:28am: Sam woke up 2 minutes before the alarm went
off. Seth brought me the baby to
nurse. We love Seth. Seth rocks. Particularly since he also remembered to turn the alarm off in advance
of it starting to beep at me.

5:42am:  Seth took Sam from me, and brought me
Ellie. Somewhere along the way, he fed
Abby, but I’m not sure when. I’m sure
somewhere along the way, he also changed a few poopy diapers as that is
Standard Operating Procedure in Chez Perky first thing in the morning.

6:03am: Got up, handed off babies, got in the shower,
got dressed and got ready to leave for work. 

6:24am: Gave J-man kisses, snuggled babies, ate a banana,
took morning medicine (forgot to take Prednisone, suffered badly for it the
rest of the day), gathered my belongings, found my shoes and stole a bite of
Seth’s bagel.

6:51am: Ran out the door like a mad-woman.

7:06am: Arrived in office, put stuff down,
refilled candy jar, walked into client’s office

7:07am: Discussed changes to policy document with
said coworker

8:00am: Returned to my desk and worked on policy
documents, responded to user requests, performed account maintenance, responded
to emails. Checked my personal email
accounts twice and found some Multiples Club Board agenda items that needed to
be dealt with before tonight’s meeting – responded to those emails (5 minutes,
tops). Called my neurologist and waited
for his return call. Continued working
on policy documents (whoo hoo!).

9:46am: Neurologist returns my call. I explain that I am still not experiencing
any relief from the migraine that won’t stop (3 weeks and still going. Please help!). He suggests going back up to the highest dose
of Prednisone for three days this time before tapering off. Okey dokey. Return to desk and work until…

11:00am: pump

11:26am: Return to desk and continue to work. Nothing particularly interesting takes place
other than work, a little more work, and some more work.

12:45 (approx): Look up directions to tonight’s board
meeting and directions to J’s speech therapy appt. this afternoon. Estimate time to each and calculate what time
I need to leave work.

1:00pm: Return to work. Work some more. Nothing particularly interesting takes place
other than work, a little more work, and some more work.

2:40pm: Make a couple phone calls re: the J-man;
return to work, work, and more work.

3:00pm: Pack up stuff. Eavesdrop on a user having a fit at a
coworker over the usability of software application. Pray that she doesn’t notice me and aim her
vitriol at me. Grab 4 pieces of
chocolate to use as a bribe for the J-man after school.

3:07pm: Leave office.

3:28pm: Arrive at the J-man’s school to pick him
up.

3:45pm:  Leave the J-man’s school.

4:05pm: Arrive at the Speech Pathologist’s
Office.

4:17pm: Glance at clock and wonder if the Speech
Pathologist always runs late for the 4:15 appointment slot.

4:20pm: Speech Pathologist comes out and greets
us. Meets with me for about 25 minutes
and then spends some time with the J-man.

5:08pm: The J-man and I head home and navigate
through downtown traffic. Joy.

5:26pm: We stop for a Slurpee because J has been
totally fixated on Slurpees since the second I picked him up from school.

5:32pm: We arrive at home. I kiss the babies who are being fed dinner
(*sob* I’m missing it! This is normally
MY job!). I check my email, pack up my
computer, grab my Multiples Club Board of Directors Notebook, take some pain
medicine for my still-throbbing head (it won’t work, but I feel like I simply
must try *something*, right?), set up the computer for the J-man to distract
him while Seth finishes the babies’ evening routine, kissed the babies again,
grabbed a snack and got ready to head out the door.

5:50pm: Left the house on my way to the hospital’s
NICU Meeting.

6:02pm: Arrived at the hospital’s NICU
Meeting. Tonight they were filming for
the hospital’s fundraising gala which will benefit the Maternal Child Division
of the hospital, so it was really important that I be there. I was filmed talking about my triplets’ NICU
experience and how they’ve been doing since. Afterward, I talked with two families whose babies are still in the NICU
who were born at 24 and 25 weeks. One
baby has been in the NICU for 12 weeks and one baby was just born 2 weeks
ago. Both families are doing very well
and are getting a fair bit of support, but both have long commutes and need a
lot of support. It is because of
families like this that I have been working hard with the nurse navigator at the
NICU to establish a Parent-to-Parent support program through the March of Dimes
(or other program) . This is why I take the time to go to
these NICU gatherings; to take the time to support these families, because I
know they need it even more than I needed it when I was navigating the NICU
life.

7:02pm: Left the NICU meeting to head to my next
meeting, a Multiples Club Board of Directors Meeting. My bad luck that it all fell on the same
night – thanks to Labor Day last week.

7:31pm: Arrived at the Board Meeting. I hate being late. Fortunately, I was only the third person to
arrive, and I was much earlier than I’d expected to be.

9:40pm: Meeting adjourns. I talk with my committee co-chair by my car
for 20 minutes about various and sundry details until I realize that,
hello? I didn’t nurse my babies before
bed like I normally do and it’s been since 11am since I pumped. Ouch.

10:00pm: head home.

10:19pm: Arrive home

10:24pm: Sam starts screaming (did I mention Sam’s
started waking up at night and we’re not sure why? Maybe night terrors, maybe separation
anxiety, maybe teething, maybe a growth spurt, but whatever it is, it’s
heartbreaking).

10:26pm: Sam’s still not calm despite being in my
arms. Try nursing him.

10:40pm: Try putting Sam back in his crib. A phenomenal disaster and his screaming wakes
Ellie up.

10:41pm: I’m now holding Sam and Ellie. 

10:42pm: This is clearly not going to work; Seth
is now holding Ellie and I’m holding Sam. 

10:46pm: Holding them isn’t helping them fall
asleep, it’s stimulating them. Seth puts
Ellie back to bed. She falls right to
sleep. 

10:47pm: Seth puts Sam back into his crib. We hold our breaths, but he doesn’t start
screaming. A miracle. Still, we hold very, very, very, very still
for a few minutes for fear of disturbing anyone.

10:50pm: I pump while we watch a little TV

11:30pm: Prepare bottles, get unreasonably
frustrated with Seth for not having put away the bottles that the babies ate
before bed (not nice of me, no excuse), get into PJ’s, take medicine, hope that
head stops hurting eventually and….

11:44pm: crawl into bed while Seth re-sets alarm
for 5:45am instead of 5:30am.

And this morning…

The babies woke up at 5:44am. Good babies. But my head? POUNDING.

Just to reiterate, I couldn’t possibly have made yesterday happen without Seth.  There are plenty of days that Seth leaves before the kids are awake and returns after the kids are in bed (tomorrow may be one of those days).  But yesterday proved that Seth can turn around and do the same thing for me when he needs to.  I just try not to do that to him, because you know what?  I really, really, really missed my babies yesterday.

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Today I took a vacation day and drove down to Richmond to see Kelly and Keira and had a fabulous time.  We talked about our babies (not so much babies anymore, but I can’t help but call them babies), and life with multiples, and pregnancy, and grief, and love, and marriage, and craziness.  We chatted for so long the waitress stopped bothering to come over to ask if we had decided what to order because it was clear we hadn’t even bothered to look at menus.  Finally, we squelched our chattering long enough to peak at menus and order and got right back down to the business of chattering away about our kids and the joys of parenting and the joys of being away for a day. 

I really needed this mental health day, and an afternoon with these two ladies was perfect for my mental health and well worth five hours of driving to have this afternoon.  And hey, while I was down there, I got a couple new blouses and a new skirt, because, well, Talbots was calling my name.  You can’t really blame a girl, can you?  I can’t really afford the time off, and I certainly couldn’t afford the new clothes, but boy, am I glad that I got both.  Richmond is one of my least favorite cities on the planet, having lived there for one of the most miserable years of my life, but by golly, am I happy that I went down there today. 

It’s nice to spend time with other triplet mamas, you know?  They get it.   We all understand each other.  We all know where we’ve come from and what’s ahead.  We don’t make stupid comments to each other, and if we do, we understand it’s the result of sleep deprivation.  And I admit that while it was nice to get together with all those triplet families last week, this was an especially nice day because it was just us mamas and we didn’t have to worry about chasing any kidderoonies.  What a relief!

The only thing that would have made the day better would have been if Jessica had been there.  After all, she had been the one to originally plan the day’s event, but alas, something came up for her and she wasn’t able to make it.  She was missed, though, and we did think of her.  Next time! 

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People keep telling me that I look shell shocked.  Tired.  Sick.  Run down.

Maybe I should take the hint.

Thing is, I can’t seem to shake it, either.  I have even skipped my 11pm pumping the past couple nights in order to get more sleep (bad mommy, I know) because I just can’t take it anymore.  I’m so tired.  So unbelievably tired.  It just can’t be normal, can it?  I just had my thyroid checked and it was normal, so that’s not the problem; I just wish I could shake it. 

In other news, my BABY started kindergarten today.  Can you believe it?  He had a bit of a rough start when I took him down for early drop off.  He was clingy and scared and didn’t want me to leave, so I told him I would stay until it was time to move to his regular classroom.  When it was time to move to his regular classroom, I took him down and I started to well up, but he just bounced right in.  WHAT?  Really?  Hello?  Now I’m having a moment, can’t you be a little traumatized with me?  Just a little?  *sniff*

Meanwhile, the kids are sick, sort of.  Ellie had a stomach bug, but she’s over it.  Then Sam seemed to get it, but not nearly as bad as Ellie.  Now Abby seemed fine, but I think she might be coming down with it.  Why couldn’t they get it concurrently instead of consecutively?  J has a "reactive airway" which is essentially asthma, but with a triggering event, in this case probably a viral infection that we didn’t notice.  Poor kid.  Now he’s got two different inhalers and thankfully is being a real trooper about taking them.

But I’m tired.  So very tired, with no real excuse for it, because, you know?  My kids sleep through the night.  But it could be the persistent migraines that won’t quit the past couple of weeks.  Or it could be the nighttime pumping and the early morning wake ups.  Or it could be that I’m just doing too much and not making up for it enough in the sleeping hours.  I’m not sure. 

I just know that I’m tired.

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Yesterday we did something extraordinary: Seth and I loaded J and the triplets into the car along with a metric ton of baby gear: diaper bag, stroller, portable high chair, etc. Plus, picnic supplies. Okay, so none of THAT is extraodinary, but the reason we were doing all of that was because I’ve been planning a Picnic In the Park for Triplet Families since May. This takes a lot of planning, you know, since getting ONE triplet family committed to doing anything is incredibly difficult… but twenty of them? Well, we were pretty darned sure it couldn’t be done.

But the proof is in the picture, isn’t it? In the end, we had 12 triplet families who were able to join us in the park, with triplets ranging from ages 3 months to 5 1/2 years old and siblings ranging from (I think?) 2 years to 14 years old. We had 12 sets of triplets (including one partial whose siblings couldn’t make it due to illness), 1 set of twins, 5 singletons and not nearly enough adults! Quite an accomplishment!

I wasn’t sure what to expect – I had met a few of these parents before – I’ve spoken of Jessica (who has triplets AND twins) often.  There was also a friend who had identical triplet girls back in May who delivered at the hospital Seth works at  – Seth had met them, but I have only spoken on the phone with them and emailed back and forth, so it was nice to finally meet them in person and see their beautiful girls.

We got some toys from a triplet mom whose boys have outgrown them, but which are perfect for our little monsters.  We got to meet some new moms and greet some parents who have been cheering me on since the early days of my pregnancy.  It was really unbelievable. 

One mother whispered to me on her way out at the end of the day, "Is
this ever going to get easier?"  Yes, yes it is.  But I feel unfair
saying that, because I’ve honestly never thought it was all that
difficult.  I’ve had my days, my moments, but it was never as difficult
as I expected it would be.  I expected it to be impossible, and we’ve
had such easy babies that I’ve been pleasantly surprised each step of
the way.  Obviously, some days are better than others, but for the most
part, it’s always been far easier than we ever thought it would be.
Maybe we just had very low expectations. 🙂 

At the risk of singing my own praises, I heard from three separate women, "Karen, you’re amazing, I don’t know how you do it all.  I mean, we’ve all got triplets, but still, I don’t know how you do it."  That makes me feel great.  I mean, I’m not doing anything more extraordinary than any of those other women, but it still feels good to hear.  🙂

It was a lot of work to make it happen, and not without some snafus – in the morning when I went to pick up the sandwich platters I’d ordered I was greeted with "What sandwich platters?" (they found the order slip that they’d misplaced and made the order up for me with a 10% discount) and then when we arrived at the picnic site, we found another family setting up a birthday party in the pavilion that I’d reserved. When I presented my permit, we discovered that we both had legitimate permits and the park ranger discovered that they had accidentally double-booked the pavilion. Ironically, the other party was a set of twins’ first birthday party. Hah. The only thing we could do was split the pavilion down the center and share the tables between us. We were really over capacity, which is unfortunate, but we made do and I think everyone had a good time despite the crowded quarters.

It was so fun to meet everyone in person – people whose blogs I’ve been reading or whose emails I’ve been reading, but who I now can picture in my mind.  I’ll probably miss someone by listing them, but thanks again to Jessica, Cherie, Debbie, Erin, Kelly, Kelli, Dorinda, Joyce, Ivette, Connie, and Jeannie (and all the spouses!).  I’m sorry that Kristin, Kelley and Amanda weren’t able to make it in the end, though they’d all planned to be there.   Next time!  (I hope I didn’t leave anyone out!)   

All in all, it was a truly amazing experience and I’m excited at the prospect of doing this again sometime … just not too soon!

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"Tell me, do you like working?" he asked, pointedly.
"Oh, heavens, no!  I hate it!" I reacted immediately, without even thinking.  "I mean," I recovered, "I used to.  I like the idea of working.  I’m good at it.  Or I used to be.  You know, it’s my field.  But then I had all these kids, and really, that wasn’t even the tricky part, it’s just that then all this with the J-man and all this coordinating and I’m pulled in all these directions.  You know, sooner or later, something has to give.  But I have to work.  How else would I pay you?"

Where did that come from?  There I was in the developmental pediatrician’s office babbling as though I was at my own therapist’s office.  Not that I have a therapist.  Maybe I should, but who has the time?  But seriously, since when do I hate working?  When did that happen, exactly?  Who is this person that I’ve become? 

I actually don’t think it’s all these kids that’s changed me this way.  Yes, to some degree having the kids has made me want to be with them in a way I never wanted to be home before.  But it’s more than that.  The pressure that this diagnosis – those four little letters – has put on my time, my schedule, my way of life has been enormous.  Every day there’s another appointment to be made, a new adjustment in schedule, a different specialist to talk to, a new assessment to squeeze in, a school to talk to, a form to fill out, a new parenting technique to try, a different medicine dose to measure.  My life is consumed with those four little letters, looming above me. 

A. D. H. D. 

The fact of the matter is that the reason my life is so consumed by those letters is because things ARE getting better.  And the reason things are getting better is BECAUSE my life is so consumed by this.  If we were half-assed about this, nothing would be working, but we are methodical, thorough, careful, every step of the way.  We are leaving no stone unturned.  But clearly, it’s taking its toll.

The J-man just finished some extensive speech-language assessments because the developmental pediatrician had some concerns that he might have dyslexia or similar learning disabilities.  I haven’t gotten the formal, written report from the Speech Pathologist yet, but yes, in fact, new words have entered our lexicons already.  Developmental Dysnomia.  Dyslexia.  And more.  No formal diagnosis, yet, but possibilities, words we play with on our tongues, words we work to understand.  The J-man has no sense of visual organization, cannot distinguish any visual cues without prompting, and even then falters.  Auditory cues are right on – no problems there.  His verbal skills are above average.  But his ability to distinguish letters and numbers on a page?  Non existent.  To him, they probably look like random little squiggles – all the same, indistinguishable from one to the next.  Yet he can pick out the tiniest differences from one dinosaur to the next.

Learning disabilities and AD/HD go hand in hand a lot of the time.  Researchers aren’t actually certain why.  It’s a bit of a peculiarity, but still, it means these new words entering our vocabulary aren’t in the least bit surprising, just one more thing to work with. 

Every day it’s a balancing act:  Get enough hours in at work, get
enough work done, do a good job, enjoy what I do.  BUT, get the
appointments made for the J-man that need to be made, coordinate with
the professionals who are there to help make things happen for him, get
all the paperwork filed that needs to be filed (on time) for the
school, for insurance, for whatever, evaluate each day’s progress with
regards to the medicine doses, be a good parent (or at least as good as
the day allows), and on and on.  Nevermind the other three kids in the house, the dishes, the laundry, the straightening, the chores, the grocery shopping that needs to be done, the cooking that’s been neglected, the calls that need to be returned, the board meetings to attend, the thank you notes that still haven’t been completed from the triplets’ birth nearly a year ago… 

Yesterday’s appointment with Ye Olde Developmental Pediatrician was supposed to be with the J-man, but he was sick, so it turned out to be just me, and I’m not sure what prompted his initial question to me.  Perhaps it was that I walked in looking so tired (I was sick).  Maybe it’s because he’s got two ADHD/LD kids of his own and knows how much work it is to juggle it all even without the triplet factor.  Maybe it was the way my badge was swinging around my neck, looking sad and out of place with the rest of me as I flung it out of my way.  Maybe he could just sense that at that moment, I had just about had enough. It’s funny how this pediatrician – this man who specializes in working with children is so brilliant with working with parents.  I firmly believe that no pediatric specialist has any business being in pediatrics unless they can handle parents, too, but this is different.  He has a sensitivity and an awareness about what’s going on from the parental side of things – it makes you instantly trust him.  That’s important, I suppose, when you’re trusting a doctor to evaluate medication needs for your son.   Trust.  Whatever it is – Dr. S. got right to the heart of the matter – I’ve changed.  AD/HD has changed me.  This diagnosis has changed me.  I don’t even enjoy the same things I used to enjoy.

Where exactly have I gone?

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Good Thing:  Having reached my absolute limit yesterday, I called my mother and asked her to stay with the kids and declared that Seth and I were going out after the triplets were in bed.  We went to see a movie.  Since he wasn’t on call this time, he actually got to see the entire movie, and we had a great time.
Less Good Thing:  I really did reach my absolute limit on coping with my life yesterday.  This PMDD thing?  SUCKS. 

Good Thing:  Sam has figured out how to climb up stairs.
Less Good Thing:  Sam has figured out how to climb up stairs.

Good Thing:  Abby has one more physical therapy session, but will probably be discharged after that.
Less Good Thing:  Ellie probably will not be discharged from physical therapy for a while.  (That being said, she’s really doing fine, she’s just further behind than the other two.

Good Thing:  My babies are almost a whole year old.
Less Good Thing:  My babies are almost a whole year old.

Good Thing:  I’ve talked with my friend about the misunderstanding about my blog compromise.  Turns out that it may have been partially a miscommunication on my part.
Bad Thing:  I may have hurt her feelings by having approached it through a vent in my blog.
Good Thing:  The best thing about friends?  We’re already over it.

Good Thing:  We’ve added in a new medication to J’s regimen and it seems to be working nicely.
Less Good Thing:  It’s a real pain in the tushy to deal with because we have to crush a pill, mix it into 1ml of simple syrup, and then draw up .2mls of medicine each time we give him the medicine (2x/day).  Then, since he refuses to take any medicine of any kind by mouth under any circumstances, the only way we can get him to take this is to mix it in with ice cream.  So he gets a couple teaspoons of ice cream BID.  But the new rule is that he may never have ice cream any other time of day ever.  Ice cream is now reserved for medicine taking.  Still, it’s a whole lot of effort to go through twice a day.

Good Thing:  My kids are awesome
Less Good thing:  There is no "less good thing" for this one.

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