Take Me Back

I did something today that I haven't done in a long time~I viewed a website of someone whose triplets were born and then died. These triplets were born at 23+ weeks gestation. Two lived for a week, the third one lived for several months, and then he died.

I looked at this site because I wanted to see these small babies. I wanted to see their hands and feet, their heads with peach fuzz hair. I wanted to see them because they were the same gestational age as my Hannah, Ryan and Abby and therefore, looking at their pictures took me back, helped me remember how small my own babies were and what it felt like to hold them.

As I clicked through site, I noticed that first there were three babies, then two, then one. And even though I knew that he died, as I went through the photos, I found myself willing the third child to live. I cried when I saw his tiny hand wrapped around his Mom's finger. I cried at the pictures where his eyes opened for the first time. I cried when I saw him doing Kangeroo Care.

And then I cried when I saw the picture of him with his Dad-one look at Dad's face and I knew the child had died. I have never met this man, but I know his expression intimately because I have seen it before. For me, it was almost as devastating as Hannah, Ryan and Abby deaths, to see that look on my own husband's face.

So today, I cried. I cried for this family that I do not know. And I cried for my own family and the children that I gave birth too that I will never get to see grow.

Bubble Magic

There is a true comraderie between my brother, my sister and me that comes from having shared the expereinces of growing up together.

After Joey was born, I knew we would try again, partly for ourselves, but also because I wanted him to expereince a sibling relationship. I wanted him to have a brother or sister to grow up with, to talk to and to grow into adulthood with.

Of course, when Laura was born, Joey was just two years old, so I didn't expect this bond to be forged right away. In the first few days of her being home, he did express interest by asking "What's the baby doing?" but as the days moved to weeks, his interest waned and the sentiment became more like 'What's the baby still doing here?" After a few more months, she became an avenue for him to exersize his newfound independence and bossiness: "the baby can't play with this toy, it's mine" or "She's too little for this toy so I'm going to take it".

But last night, I caught a glimpse of the friendship that I hope will come. Laura was in her jumper-roo and Joey was blowing bubbles. Not so much out of friendliness, but more out of curiosity to see what would happen, Joey got into her face and started blowing bubbles at her. My first instinct was to tell him to back away a little so he wouldn't blow bubble stuff all over her, but I held my tongue.

Suddenly, Laura started cracking up, which led Joey into a frenzy--jumping up and down and yelling, "She likes it! She likes it and she thinks I'm funny. I'm making her laugh!

And for me, all I could do was smile as I realized this was the first positive back and forth exchange between my children. Between siblings.

The High Road

Being one of three children myself, I had always thought I would have 3 children of my own. Once the initial shock of being pregnant with triplets wore off, I was thrilled that I would accomplish this desire all at one time. Unfortunately, that wasn't to be for me or for them...

For months now, my brother and sister-in-law have gone back and forth about having another baby. She wants one, he does not. They have a beautiful and very spirited 3 1/2 year old girl and a wonderfully cute and funny 18 month old boy. I love these children emensly.

My brother is ready to move into the next phase of life. He is ready to put the sleepless nights of babyhood behind them and move into the active lifestyle that an almost 4 year old and an 18 month old invite you to enter. And, he believes they have been lucky so far and he does not want to push that luck.

She has a longing that she can't explain. Her rational brain knows that two is a good number for their family, but her emotions are tugging at her maternal instinct and as her little boy leaves babyhood, those strings are pulling tighter around her heart and the yearning for one more deepens.

They have both talked to me about it because it's something, as a couple, they struggle with. Especially my sister in law. And yet, I wish she wouldn't talk to me because it sparks a strong internal conflict in me. For completely selfish reasons, I do not want them to have another baby. I was supposed to be the one raising three children and I know that it will never happen for me. And as selfish as it is, I can't help it...the idea of them becoming a family of five is painful for me.

And so, as I sit and listen to my sister in law talk, as she questions outloud what she should do, a little voice inside my head says, "Just tell her, tell her you agree with your brother. Tell her you think two is a good number for their family".

But I never say it. Instead I offer the one thing I know will help her figure it out: an ear and an opinion that I keep silent.

Elusive Dreams...

My husband and I will be celebrating our 10 year wedding anniversary this fall. We recently booked a resort vacation for just the two of us, to celebrate. It will be the first vacation we've taken alone since 2004 and even though we're not leaving until November 1st, we're both really excited~

R is looking forward to the beach, scuba lessons, the tennis clinics, golf and the fine dining that are included in our package.

I'm excited about those things, too. But more so, I'm excited at the prospect of a full week of uninterrupted sleep! Honestly, that thought, well, it just makes me giddy.

See, Laura is 9 months old now but still doesn't sleep through the night. With the exception of a few cheerios here and there, she's exclusively nursing. We introduced solids at 6 months and she loved them, but by 7 months, she was boycotting them completely. My pediatrician said to try every few days but realize it may be a texture thing. So, we tried every few days, but she would just spit them out or clamp her mouth shut and cry. Knowing that I have a life-time of battles ahead of me with this child, I decided fairly quickly that this one wasn't worth the effort. So, I packed up the baby food and gave it away.

She's happier. I'm happier.

However, she's now back to full time nursing, which means she usually wakes at night at least once to eat. This wake-up call tends to happen just as I'm falling into that wonderful, deep, coma like sleep. I’ve finally drifted into a dreamlike state and then suddenly, I'm jolted awake by the desperate cries of my hungry little lamb. I've thought about letting her cry, but then I end up laying there, wondering if my baby is withering away to nothing, from starvation. Of course, if you saw her chubby little thighs, you would understand how ridiculous this concern is, but hey it is the middle of the night, so I don't claim to be thinking clearly…

Anyway, we have her 9 month checkup this Friday. I’m hoping we get the "green light" for pancakes and other easy to eat solids. Somehow, I think this is going magically cure her late night snacking and she will start to sleep 10 hours straight. We'll see.

Perhaps I'm just chasing a crazy dream…

Who is this girl and what did you do with my April?

I journal write. The unfortunate thing about my style is that I tend to write during times of crisis and rarely when life is good. It's not a great way to journal because if anyone were to ever read them after I die (like my kids), it would seem that my life was completely dark and painful without any laughter and fun. And that's simply not true.

Anyway, in back-reading some of my earlier journals, it's interesting for me to see how strong and optimistic I was. Even through some really difficult times, I would see positives. Again and again during the first few rounds of In-Vitro that we did, I would write about the challenges of the treatments, but I always ended with how lucky we were to have this option. The year that Hannah, Ryan and Abby died, the darkest year of my life, I took a lot of time to write about my pain, but I also found myself writing many thankful passages for the people in my life who helped carry me through this period, the outpouring of love that I received and the amount of strength I found within myself to move forward.

Imagine, then, my surprise as I continued to browse through the next few years to the present, only to discover that much of my "thankfulness" has gone along the wayside and my strength and upbeat attitude has begun to wane, rather significantly.

I know the past 6 years have thrown me blow after blow. What I didn't realize was how much my strength has slowly burned down; faded away. I know that I am strong. The problem is that I no longer feel strong. And, perhaps more upsetting for me is that while I am grateful for so many things in my life, I've just realized that I'm not living very graciously right now.

So, the question I need to ask myself is not "How did I let this happen?" but rather, "How do I change this?" I know I can't go back. I don't think we can ever go back, but I do know that I can look deep within myself again and find that strength to move forward into a better light.

Politics Aside

I was watching the Obama/Clinton debate the other night and the final question was one that surprised me. (Paraphrasing here) They were asked to define their most challenging personal crisis.

I was actually unsure of the relevence of that question or what they hoped to achieve by asking it. I thought both candidates did a fine job answering the question-Obama talking about his father leaving and how it forced him to learn to bring people together. Hilary joking about the "trials" of her life, but then bringing it back to the challenges of the American people. They both handled the situation with grace. I wondered if the candidates had copies of the questions prior to the debate? Did they know that the final question would be about their most challenging personal crisis?

I can only picture myself in a similar situation (not that I have any interest in running for president, mind you) and being asked the same question. If I wasn't prepared for it, if I didn't know beforehand, I think I would be thrown by the question. I may even get tears as I choked out "It was during the aftermath from when Hannah, Ryan and Abby were born. And died"

Always, in prepping for interviews, debates, etc. you are taught to take your "negative" and spin it into a positive. I was thinking about how one spins a "positive" on having your children die.

But when I am honest with myself, the truth is, positive things have come to my life because Hannah, Ryan and Abby died. Both of my living children were concieved only because Hannah, Ryan and Abby died. I never would have gone through IVF again had my triplets lived. So, isn't having Joey and Laura the greatest positive that could come from such devastation?

This year will be the 5 year annivesary of Hannah, Ryan and Abby's births and deaths. I can't believe it's already been five years~I have already been thinking about how I can honor them and this monumental annivesary. I was thinking of doing a big road race, perhaps a 1/2 marathon or a marathon with a large fundraiser for the March of Dimes. Or, doing a Teddy Bear Drive for the local hospital. But these things don't feel right for me. It's not even March (their birthdays are in October) and already I have been putting a lot of pressure on myself to do something big to honor them.

Perhaps the best way to honor them is quietly, privately. Perhaps it is to simply love them and look for all the good that their short lives have brought into my life.