The Stretch Mark Post

"...and HER stomach looks like a road map."

I nodded in a polite way, maybe raised my eyebrows a little, as if to meet his displeasure of what this woman's stomach apparently looked like to him.

It was my husband's boss after all.  The first time I was meeting him, right after I had finished a delicious, expensive dinner on him.

He had just found out I was pregnant with triplets and after the normal oohs and ahhs about how crazy our life was about to become, he was suddenly concerned about how I was going to keep stretch marks at bay.

He mentioned coconut oil and how one of his daughters (I think...I don't remember the relation to the women he brought up, I just remember it made me uncomfortable) had used it during her entire pregnancy and didn't get one stretch mark.  But his daughter-in-law (???) didn't do one thing and HER stomach looks like a road map.

He then told Chris he would pick some up for me at this health food store he frequents and bring it to the office the next day.

First of all, let's just skip the part where he has intimate details on the condition of these women's midriffs.  Really.  Weird.

But can we focus on the fact that a MAN was having this conversation with me?  Remember how men don't get pregnant?  Remember how a man has never experienced labor pains, child birth or the lovely weeks after delivery where every place on your body that is able to leak some kind of fluid does?   Or being so large where you can't get up without rolling from side to side to gain momentum.  Or your extremities going numb.  Like unable to pour a gallon of milk numb.  Or the swelling that causes your face, feet and hands to be unrecognizable.  Or being so chock full of hormones you cry and accuse your clothes hamper of trying to sabotage your life because it is never empty. (There are literally hundreds of pregnant maladies I could list...)

Remember how a man doesn't feel the extreme highs of creating another life followed by the lowest lows of not wanting to leave your house for weeks? Remember how men don't experience that societal pressure of being sexy before, during and after pregnancy?  Tabloid headlines will never have pictures of how great DAD looks only weeks after his wife gives birth.  Remember?

But Sir, let's make this conversation about being pregnant with triplets all about the worry of stretch marks. Please.

Present tense Kara is writing this rant.  Kara of September, 2012.  Kara of September 2009 was a little less brash. 2009 Kara was not bombarded with the craziest comments from friends and strangers about the experience of having triplets.  Before comments of people telling me they would rather die than be pregnant with triplets.  Or have three toddlers.  Or say "oops, I bet that wasn't supposed to happen," when referring to my latest pregnancy.  Or say, "isn't there some kind of rule that you are supposed to stop having kids after triplets?" (The guy cracked himself up at that one.  Hilarious, tactful stranger. So funny.)

2009 Kara was before I found my voice of bravery for the sake of my children.  They will after all, hear and read these stories and no doubt have things said to their face when people find out their unique birthday situation.  They must always know how grateful I am for every single day I have with them.

So if Kara 2012 was sitting at dinner in 2009, I would've said, "Yea, everyone is concerned about different things, but I'm just hoping that all my babies are healthy and I can carry them as long as I can."

Or maybe, "Every stretch mark that every woman has or will have is a Purple Heart in the complex world of being a woman.  We are bombarded at every angle about our body image and what we think we should look like, what the world thinks we should look like and what we think the world thinks we should look like.  We are told we don't have enough kids.  We are told we have too many.  We are told we are too fat, too thin, too ugly, too pretty and usually by people who don't know or care about us.  But some broken switch in us takes in every criticism and compliment with a giant magnifying glass.  We are never enough.  So for you to turn this conversation about me housing three miracles of God's creation into how my stomach is going to look after, is borderline blasphemous and undoubtedly insulting. (dramatic pause) Thanks for dinner by the way."

But Kara three years ago, nodded and smiled and thanked him for his concern.  (Gag.)

Full disclosure: (because you always deserve it) I did accept his coconut oil gift and used it.  And I actually never did get stretch marks with the kidlets, although I thought I did.  But really, I'm not convinced it was the coconut oil, nor do I want this post to be about stretch mark prevention.

Because I have stretch marks now.  I carried this new baby of mine to 39 healthy, sometimes miserable, always exhausting weeks.  He was 2 pounds heavier than the triplets combined weight at birth. And although I winced a little when I realized these purple lines were here to stay, (those societal ideals are tough to shake)  I thought of that conversation at dinner years ago.  It made me refocus where my priorities really are and, in a way that only a healthy, big baby, born to a once quivering mother of three pre-mature infants can do--I was grateful for those permanent scars.

I don't see a road map.  I see life and hope.  I see an able vessel where four separate and beautiful miracles have occurred.  I don't have a road map.  I have a reminder that I'm one of the lucky ones.

Did she really just this picture?  Believe it.  Just doing my part to free women everywhere of the irrelevant concerns we should have during pregnancy and focus on what really matters.  After all, I know plenty of women warriors who would move heaven and earth, go to hell and back and be covered in stretch marks if it meant the end result was cuddling a little one of their own.

Believe it.

HypnoBirthing: The Reprogram

Approaching my 38th week and being large (really large) with child, I struggle to roll to one side so I can sit upright. A thought pops in my head.  I turn to Chris and say,

"I think we should name this baby Rocky."

His eyebrows raise.

"Because being born early is Apollo Creed and all this baby wants to do is go the distance."

I pause for a big laugh.  Or a slight chuckle.  Or the corners of his mouth to raise in a friendly, "we both really love Rocky references" smile.  Nothing.

So my joke meter is a little off.  But my tangent scale is as on point as ever.  Which leads me to the point of this post:

Reprogramming Your Brain in HypnoBirthing

That title is one I made up.  Nothing official about it.  In my last post about this subject I talked about how our western culture is kind of pre-programmed to fear child birth.  The book I read even suggests how we think about being pregnant as a medical ailment that needs treatment.  So part of preparing for a hypnobirth is retraining your brain to think positive, natural thoughts about giving birth.  

The first thing it asks of you is to replace words commonly associated with childbirth.  The idea is that these softer words will help with the mental shift needed to approach giving birth without fear.  For example:

Don't say contraction, say surge.

It's not a coach, it a birth companion.

Your water doesn't break, your membranes release.

You aren't dialating, you're opening.

The baby doesn't come down the birth canal, it eases through the birth path.

There aren't complications, only special circumstances.  The list goes on.

Don't you already feel more relaxed about this baby coming?  Just turn on some harp music and I'm ready. Speaking of soothing music, the other part of the brain train are daily affirmations.  Think Stuart Smalley saying he's good enough, smart enough and doggonnit, people like him -- only for having babies.   

Every day I listen to 20 minutes of positive birthing affirmations.  (I know this got weird a long time ago for some of you reading this.  Just go with it at this point, you're already invested in how I'm doing this, right?  Read on gentle reader!  Read on!)

Here are a few of the affirmations I've been implanting in my head for the last 15 weeks:

I put all fear aside as I prepare for the birth of my baby.

I am relaxed and happy that my baby is coming to me.

I am focused on a smooth, easy birth.

I trust my body, and I follow it's lead.

My mind is relaxed; my body is relaxed.

I feel confident; I feel safe; I feel secure.

My body and my baby know how to work together in harmony.

I don't look in the mirror and say these, although I should, while gently brushing my hair in a pink, high collar, silk robe.  I just pop in my earbuds and listen to these on my ipod.  

So there is another piece of my hypnobirthing puzzle.  Next time I'll go over the relaxation practice.  It's my favorite part.

I should cite where I am getting all this info.  The book I mentioned is this one.    The classes and instructor we went to is this one.  

And the Rocky reference?  If you don't know it, your life is not yet complete.  I included it. (You're welcome!) I hope all of you will watch the entirety.  But his "go the distance" speech starts around 3:30.

And really, don't draw too close a parallel to my joke and his comments here. Because I could also make a close connection with my trio all being little Rockys, the underdog preemies fighting the big bad world that is being born pre-mature.  You're not so bad NICU! You're not so bad!

Or the time when there were so many dishes to do, it felt like a giant Russian boxer was beating me to the ground, but I finished those dishes.  If I can do the dishes, then YOU can do the dishes, we can ALL do the dishes!  

I might have a slight Rocky obsession.  I'm comfortable with it though.

HypnoBirthing According to Kara: Part I

light·en·ing

   [lahyt-n-ing] 

noun Medicine/Medical .

the descent of the uterus into the pelvic cavity, occurring toward the end of pregnancy, changing the contour of the abdomen and facilitating breathing by lessening pressure under the diaphragm.

Ok, who coined this term?  Lightening?  Really.  Because I don't think there is anything "light" about feeling like you are walking with a bowling ball between your legs.  Which is what I feel like.  Waddle, waddle, waddle.  That's where I am at 37 weeks.  It's more like heavy-ing than lightening.  (Best part about blogging is making up your own words.)

I've had many (2) questions and requests about going into further detail about my plans for having a hypnobirth.  The name itself sounds mysterious and strange.  Before I divulge the secrets and legends behind this method, I have a few disclaimers.

I FIRMLY believe (like, a lot) that every mother has the right and privilege to have her baby in the best way that she deems fit.  Meaning, I'm definitely not going to tell you that hypnobirthing is the way to go.  Or imply that you've failed as a woman if you don't have a c-section, a VBAC, an epidural, or bite on a stick, a home birth, or squat next to a tree as you gently deliver your baby into a pile of leaves.

Uh uh.  Each woman, baby and birth is different.  I don't think one way is the right way. With that said, I'll share my reasons why I've decided to have this kind of delivery.

My triplets were somewhat of an unplanned, emergency c-section.  I was planning on having a c-section, but not 3 months early.  I was unprepared, a nervous wreck and totally in la-la land from drugs and pain meds for a long time.  When I found out I was pregnant with this little peanut, I knew I wanted a completely different experience.

I didn't know exactly what, but I started with a google search. (Most good journeys start here, right?)  I ended up searching the terms "natural," "painless" and "childbirth."  I had no idea what I would come up with.  But this term "hypnobirth" kept coming up.  So I investigated...

A hypnobirth is a vaginal delivery free of drugs and medication.  The idea is to put yourself into a state of deep relaxation so your delivery is easy, gentle and free of pain.  

The theory is that our western society has a deep rooted idea of fear being associated with childbirth.  Think about movies and television and other portrayals of births you've seen--  screaming women in pain and agony.  There is even a suggestion that Eve, our first mother, plays a role in this fear.  The bible tells us that she was cast out of the garden and told she would bring forth children "in sorrow."  So we have this imbedded idea that childbirth is hard and painful, which is scary.  Pain equals fear.

The science behind the idea is that your body releases a chemical called catecholamine during times of fear and stress.  This is associated with the "fight or flight" reaction.  Since you can't do either during childbirth, your body tenses up and all your muscles become tight and rigid.

All these tight muscles actually work against the idea of your baby being born, instead of allowing it to happen.  You "push," but you're pushing against super tense muscles, all the while your subconscious is telling you your contractions are painful, having a baby is painful, pain, pain, fear, fear, more catecholamine released, more tense and nervous muscles-- including the ones used to birth your baby.

Hypnobirthing trains you to relax every muscle in your body and breath your baby down and out.  You also reprogram your subconscious and your ideas about childbirth.  Instead of your body releasing catecholamine, you release these wonderful, natural endorphins.  There are some cultures and plenty of stories of women giving birth without pain, and that's the norm for them.

I have more information to give you.  We'll call this part one.  More to come: my daily affirmations (real zen-like stuff), practicing relaxing (love this) and what Chris' role will be in all this new-age mumbo jumbo (he's a good sport).

ALSO!  I was given a super-duper, excellent, awesome, extraordinary baby shower that involved no onesies, sleepers, outfits or diapers.  It was so great for a mom that has all that. (Well, let's be honest, I could always use more diapers.)  Here's a preview:

Eh?  Lots of cute girls in the kitchen?  I'll let you know what they were up to!

The Post That Has No Point

34 weeks friends.  I'm happy to be here.  But good gravy am I exhausted.

I had someone ask me a few months ago when I was due.  I told them July.

"July!  That's going to be hot.  And you already have triplets?!?  Man, you didn't plan that one very well did you?"

Yes my tactful stranger friend, we didn't.  In fact Costco checker, you know that aisle in the store that says "Family Planning?" That's never really applied or made sense to us, for a myriad of reasons.  We've never really planned any of this.  Would you like me to walk you through our IUI procedure or the four years of never really using the family planning aisle that led us to the IUI?  No?  Yes, I would like a box, thank you.

I never said any of those things.  Most of the time I just smile and nod my head.  Have you ever said something you regret to a pregnant lady?  I'm sure I have.  What about asking someone when they were due and their answer was they aren't pregnant?  Guilty.  Fortunately that's only a one time mistake.  You never forget the horror in you heart when you discover your folly.  Yikes.

I really want to cut my hair.  I was going through some pictures the other day and realized how much happier I am with short hair.  (At least this is going to be my argument to my long-hair-loving-husband.)

Take a look at these pictures and judge for yourself:


Short haired Kara.  See?  Doesn't she look happy and content with life?  It probably took her 4.5 minutes to throw together that short, curly do.  Maybe that's why she's so happy?  She has so much more time on her hands!  It probably averages out to hours and hours in her week!  (Truth: my hair is pulled up in a pony tail most days, I never do it.  But remember, I'm trying to establish a legitimate argument here.)

Long haired Kara.  Wow.  She does NOT look happy with long hair right now.  She looks down right morose.  She probably has this look on her face all day, her hair just weighing down the rest of her features.  It's probably causing those blemishes too.  Poor thing.  I hope she finds her way.  (Side note: I CANNOT believe I'm actually publishing this photo.  But it makes me laugh, what can I say?)

And since I can't leave you with the above image in your head, a little Photo Booth fun with my boys.  

Anyone else having a hair dilemma at the moment?  And speaking of hair, go look at Steph's blog.  She lost her hair during chemo and it has started to grow back in.  She is over wearing hats (I don't blame her) and I think her current, super short look she has going right now is so beautiful!  I wouldn't be able to look that good because she has that "I beat cancer" glow.  Her fighting ways and love of life just kind of shines through her soul.

Speaking of Steph, (this is a really strange tangent post!) I was supposed to run Ragnar with her this year.  She ran.  I stayed home and kept growing my baby.  I sure did miss those beautiful mountains, the no sleep, the 3 am run and miles and miles of memories.  (Well, the mountains and memories are nice.)

Next time.

Also, here is what 34 weeks looks like via Photo Booth.  I know most of you come here for the high quality photos I post.  And yes, I do have one lone turtle on my bedroom wall.  He's means a lot to me though.

Someone asked me today if I had twins in there.  REALLY? I don't look that big do I?  Do other people get as many crazy remarks as I do?  I can't be the only one, right?

My First Time in the Third Trimester

So, here's the deal.

This third trimester is new territory for me.  Let me first say that I love the fact that I'm having a third trimester.  Awesome sauce.  Did you know that at this point, every day you keep your little bundle inside you is three days she doesn't have to spend in the NICU?  Good news.  Happy I'm here, hanging out at 32 weeks.  Feels good.

You know what doesn't feel good?  Your hands going completely numb and losing the ability to grip.  This is most prominent in the morning.  Try eating cereal without actually gripping your spoon.  Good times.  This happened with the trio, but I figured it was a triplet pregnancy thing.  Nope.  It's a me pregnancy thing.

I've also had a few maladies from the first trimester come back to haunt me.  They've returned and are taking up residency again.  Fatigue, nausea, I'm flattered you took such a liking to me, but come on.  Have you met my kids?!  Their energy and schedule doesn't exactly mesh well with a woman who can't seem to get going until 2 in the afternoon.

But I did wash the floor today.  I also had a neighbor friend come by and play with my busy bunch.  Grandma D stopped by with a new alphabet rug everyone loves.  I had a late girl's night with a friend that included homemade strawberry ice cream and Downton Abbey.  I also worked a green salad into tonight's menu of hot dogs and baked beans.  I scored a dozen packs of blackberries for .88 each.  I'm also itching 87% less than I used to.

So once again, despite my best efforts to be a big fat complainer, my life is good.

Also, I remember literally mourning not being able to feel my little ones kick and move inside me when they were born too early.  So I can say with honesty, I absolutely relish these little jabs and kicks that prevent me from falling asleep and startle me awake.

What my cereal eating looks like in the morning (as long as Chris is still home to pour the milk).  The key is finding a way to grip without actually bending your finger joints.  Tricky.

What it looks like to be the light in mommy's life.

 
Also, my fingers are officially numb and in pain in the time it took to compose this post.  But that's the kind of blogger I am.  FIGHT THROUGH THE PAIN!  ANYTHING FOR THE SAKE OF A BORING, ROUTINE POST!

You're welcome.

Taking Off My Skin and Other Good News

There's a poem by Shel Silverstein I absolutely loved when I younger.  There are actually a lot of poems by this man I adored and still treasure today, but this one has been on my mind.

I loved this ridiculous idea of taking off your skin to get cool.  I even remember sharing this with my sister one night as we were laying in bed.  My little 8 year old mind having a literary discussion about the possibility of taking off your skin.  (Remember, Shauna?)  Such an insane solution to a problem I was familiar with in the sweltering weeks of summer.  

But the heat is not why I've been thinking about this.  Although it has been hot.  

My skin does not like being pregnant.  Last time I was pregnant I developed cholestasis, a lovely condition where your liver produces too much bile and in turn makes you itch. like. crazy.  This was remedied by a pill (not my first choice for physical maladies, but oh baby did it help).  It's also not the greatest thing for the baby come 3rd trimester, although I never made it there.  This time around, I am itching like crazy again.  But a blood test confirms it's not cholestasis.  Booo!  Of course I don't want to have this.   But I was hoping I did, because I already know how fast I can get relief.  But no pill.  Hydrocortisone works for about 15 minutes and I went through 16 gallons of it in 2 days.  Expensive, drug store, dermatologist recommended lotion works for about 10 minutes. 

So I was hoping for that western, manufactured pill.  So now I will see about taking my skin off and replacing it with a brand that's not so sensitive.  That and dandelion root and banana peels.  Both things I read in the oppositie spectrum of western, manufactured pills and potions.

Itch me luck.  I mean wish.  Wish me luck.

Anyone else have a favorite Shel Silverstein poem?  Or any methods of taking off skin?  Or ideas to get me to stop scratching the good gravy gumbo out of myself?  I'd love to hear it all.     

(Gasp!)  Also!!  This is officially the longest I've ever been pregnant.  29 weeks.  Quite happy about that.  Keep growing little bean.  Although we can't wait to meet you, we can wait 8-10 more weeks at least.  

Afternoon Hijinks

3:00pm - 6:00pm is an interesting chunk of time around these parts.  I call it our witching hour.  Mom gets a little nuts.  The kids get a bit gonzo.  If you're family, you know this is when I usually start making a few Face Time rounds.  When no one answers, (quit screening our calls!) it's picture time.

Don't you think Warhol would've found us as interesting subjects?

This is a science-fiction story waiting to happen.

Six months along.  Three to go.  Christian is wondering if I can make it through the summer with my built in incubator.

When we last left our heros...

What do your afternoons look like?  I'm loving this warmer weather.  I think you'll find the four of us lounging in a kiddie pool most afternoons in the near future...

Get In My Belly!

Here it is folks.  Baby #4.  20 weeks.  Had my 20 week ultrasound last week.  Everything looking good!  It was a test of will to not look at the screen when the sonographer said, "look away, I'm headed in "that" direction."  But I held out.  Still a mystery!  It will never get old seeing the tiny little life force inside of you kicking and punching.  Love it.

I wonder if baby knows how much room he/she has!  I wonder if baby knows how cramped the last tenants were.  Hope he/she is enjoying all the leg room!  (Can't bring myself to type "it" for a pronoun.)



And just for fun.  My kids are smart.  You can tell by the size of their brains.  Oh Photo Booth, thanks for the minutes of entertainment you provide.

Daily Schedule During My First Trimester OR My Kids Like Cheerios

Remember this post last year about our daily schedule?

I thought I would give an update on how things are looking lately.

From late November to February (aka my first 15 weeks of being with child) our schedule went something like this:

Early morning:  Chris gets up with kids while I either
        a) moaned and groaned in bed, calling for "crakers! can you bring me a few crackers!"
        b) hit up the bathroom for a good old fashion morning heaving session
        c) took 30 minutes to do what I can usually do in 4
Chris is really good to me.

Morning through late afternoon:  I would alternate between the couch, our reading chair or my bed while the little ones ran amuck (amuck! amuck! amuck!), took a nap, brought me books to read to them or watched a show.  I would of course manage to feed and (sometimes) dress them at some point during the day.

If nothing else, this second pregnancy has introduced my first borns to cold cereal and the wonders of the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.  They love both.

Early evening:  Chris comes home (HALLELUJAH!) to a wife still in her pajamas, kids happy to play with someone who actually moves from time to time and cold cereal for dinner.  (Chris is really good to me.)

6:30 - 7:30 : bedtime routine.  Bath, play with daddy while mommy continues her routine of laying around.

Then I would be asleep before Conan even started most nights.

Of course there were things to go and do.  We spent time during this phase doing holiday things.  Like going to a New Year's Eve party that ended at 8:00 pm.  (That was awesome.  I had a good 2 hours of sleep before being awoken by the bombardment of fireworks.)

I had to pretend I felt great and was not pregnant since we weren't telling anyone yet.

See?  Don't I look like the opposite of wanting to lay down and close my eyes?  And my big scarf disguising my already protruding midsection.  (Love that scarf Margaret!)  Let's not forget to admire my handsome hero.  The real cogs of our ticking clock during this season of sickness.

Christian wanted to make sure the dog was having a fun party as well.  

Being past that first trimester phase feels good.  I feel like a normal person again.  I can play "run" with my kids again.  (It's pretty complicated.  We just run around the play room in circles for an unspecified amount of time.)

We have a regular routine again that consists of mom actually getting dressed AND making dinner.  So now that I'm here, in phase two, my energies can be spent on other things.  

Like wondering how it happened that I thought our mini van was the biggest car in the world, but add another car seat, and we are FULL UP.  

Which is ok.  Because so is my cup.  

Up next... or at some future post: the current schedule sans morning all day sickness.  All the mundane details you can handle.


ps - if you could not tell Chris I have been feeling waaaay better in the mornings, that would be great.  He still gets the kids moving and set up for breakfast while I snag a few extra minutes in the morning.

pps - ok, you don't have to lie for me.  If it comes up, I understand.  But try not to sway your conversation toward our morning routine.

ppss - I'm kidding.

End of the month and phase one

Today is the last day of January.

It also happens to be the last day of my first trimester.  I'm excited about this.  The last time I was pregnant, with the gang, I missed out on a second trimester.  I went from feeling icky to feeling huge.  No in between break.

A lot of things should be different this time around.  For example, my belly won't grow so huge that it squishes everything around and somehow ends up cutting off the circulation to my arms and hands, thereby needing assistance to pour milk on my cereal and open tiny jam jars.  That will be nice.  I'm pretty sure I won't need a shower chair during this pregnancy either.  Or feel the need to eat bacon every morning and drink whole milk.  (Such an interesting time in my life -- hoping and praying to gain 75 pounds.)

The biggest difference will be the little people I have to share this pregnancy with.  I asked Sunny the other day if she got enough to eat and if her tummy was full.  She looked up with sparkling eyes and exclaimed, "Baby!" While she rubbed her little tummy.  Of course I explained that only mommy has the baby in her tummy.  Then she asked if dad did.  Nope, just mommies have babies.  She gave my bump a little rub and went on her way.

I can't wait for everyone to meet in person.

On that note, I've pretty much made up my mind (Chris is on board) that we are keeping the gender of our baby a surprise until it's birthday.  Going to do it retro style.  Like, pre-1990.  What do you think?  Are we crazy?

Do you think I can actually make it until July?  I'll take your guesses up until then, and any old wives tales that will give it away.  

Baby Makes Six

The windows are down on a warm summer day and we are cruising to some little lunch spot we've been wanting to try.  Just the two of us.  A comfortable silence settles when a favorite song comes on the radio.  He looks over at me and smiles during the chorus.  The words remind him of us.  I smile back.  We are happy.  And so in love.


This little vignette with my husband of six years popped into my head last night as I was getting dressed and kind of in shock at how big my belly has grown.  I'm 3 months pregnant.  (Go ahead and read that last sentence again.  It's not a typo.)  I'm not sure why that particular memory came flooding to my tired mind with such clarity.  


It's probably because I really loved those days of just the two of us.  But I also really couldn't wait for them to be over.  I feel lucky to have been so aware of how wonderful it was to go out to dinner on a Tuesday just because.  Or take a 2 hour nap together on Sunday.  Or sleep in until 10 on the weekends.  But those days are over.  For now.  Maybe my subconscious has been looking forward to when they will start up again.  Or maybe just reminding me that what we have together, both then and now is really, really great.  


Because we just extended our delay of sleeping in and Tuesday nights out a little longer.  The little bean that is cooking inside me right now was a serendipitous, spontaneous surprise.  Really a miracle, given our history.  


So I won't waste one minute (I already had my moments of panic and fretting two months ago - I'm done) complaining about having a baby in the middle of two-year old triplets.  Or waste one second wondering where I'm going to have the gumption, where-with-all or energy to do this.  Because I've already shed too many tears in the past over other women's comments of this very nature.  When it was just the two of us.  I hated to see even a hint of disappointment when a pregnancy announcement was made, whatever their reason.  It turned my heart to cement.  It was too much to ask to be forgiving of their fertile womb.  (I've since mended ways of this kind of thinking.  Before the kids got here, thank goodness!) 


I asked for this.  Not this EXACT situation, granted.  But I pleaded, none the less, for a little family to love and cherish.  I put my heart and soul on the alter and said to take it all.  I didn't want to be in charge anymore.  I was willing to go and do what was asked of me.  God heard me.  So how I can be anything less than grateful? 

We're having a summer baby!  

(and just the one.  singular.  confirmed by ultra-sound in case you were wondering.) 

Also, this scripture has been running around in my mind for the last 11 weeks or so.  


  
  

A Little Catch Up

I've been without the ability to post real pictures from my own computer for a very long time. I thought I would do a blast from our very surreal past. Surreal because the picture below seems like it was a lifetime ago. Was I really that big? Did I really need to live in that chair for the last 2 months? But it was only 4 1/2 short months ago. I remember the feeling of missing their little kicking bodies in my belly. That is after I regained the ability to feel below my waist. After they were born I was so sad that I couldn't feel them close to me. Especially when they were all packaged in plastic warmers, not allowed to be held by their mama. Now they are all packaged in homemade blankets, kicking and grunting and sometimes sweet cooing, all together, next to each other, in their own crib, in their own home, trying to fall asleep.


This picture was taken 2 weeks before they were born. The sweet baby in my arms is my darling niece. It was kind of hard to hold her comfortably with the watermelon stuffed down my shirt. But here are all the babies inside their mom's belly.






And here they all are, 5 months later, outside their dad's belly.




And this was taken on the best 30th birthday a gal could ever ask for. I just can't get enough of my little family. (Seriously, who has triplets? What is going on here? I need someone to come over everyday just to pinch me that this is really my life. Let me know if you would be available.)

So, How Are the Kids?

Big! Well, it's all relative. But my last check up showed them weighing a pound and a half each. I'm so proud of how much they are growing! They are right on a schedule. I'm still so amazed that my body knows what to do. Sometimes I wake up in the morning and think, "Ahh! I'm pregnant! Should I be doing something?" Silly, I know. But it's just so amazing to me that my body knows what to do. It's amazing that it knows to make room for three of them!

I have some updated updates. I would like to dedicate this update to the lovely Howe sisters who hail from Sanpete County. I am finally on the ball with getting pictures off my camera, so don't be surprised if a picture from last summer or Halloween shows up sometime.

Today as I post this, I am 24 weeks and 2 days. How am I feeling? Fine. Well, I tell people that. I ran into one of my friend's mom at church on Sunday I hadn't seen in years. She asked me. I said fine. She totally called me out. "Oh, you are not. You have three babies in there!" Okay Connie! You got me! I have felt better, yes. And I remember why I like you so much.

So here are a few picture of the baby's incubator. I can't wait to actually see their tiny faces instead of just staring at my bulging midsection wondering who they are going to look like.



So obviously this picture is a little old. But it's kind of crazy to compare what I looked like over two months ago.





So, yes, this is a documented picture of my belly. But how good looking is the daddy? I hope all three have their dad's eyes. If they do, I won't miss him so much when he is at work. I also love this shirt on him. I found it at some random subway station clothes store in NYC. Also, I would like to note the fuller face. So next time someone tells me, "Oh it's all in your belly!" I will submit exhibit A. I don't care by the way. Just pointing it out. I still have about 15 pounds to go! I've gained about 35 pounds so far. Woo hoo! I owe it all to Vitamin D milk and everyone else that cooks dinner for me!





And here is the latest. Twenty four weeks. Whew! I'm almost in the safe zone.






I needed to document this for posterity. Although I am 29, seemingly in the prime of my life, I've had to acquire a few "aids" to help get me through my day. This shower chair is one of those. It takes me so long to do everything! So, this snazzy purchase that we found next to the canes in the pharmacy section has enabled me to shave both my legs again. (TMI? Sorry.) I won't mention the compression gloves that came from a website that also sells walkers and pill reminders other...er...elderly type purchases. Totally awesome. After Chris put it together I made him model it for me. He makes an adorable shower chair model. He's saying, "Hey! Look how clean AND comfortable I am!"






I have six beautiful sisters. These are just a couple of them. I bet they loved posing next to me. They look quite fit and limber compared to the red headed lady ready to pop huh? Nobody tell her she still has three months to go!



So there it is! Babies doing great! Growing, stretching, kicking, punching, taking everything they can from me! (It's okay! Take it! Take it!) Thanks again to everyone praying for us and thinking about our little one and a half pounders.

Confessions of a First Timer

Before I write anything else, I would first like to make clear that I realize I am not the first pregnant woman in the world. There have been millions before me. I also acknowledge the fact that I am not the first person to be pregnant with triplets. As amazing as it is to me, I'm not the only one. I know my experience isn't totally unique.

Okay, with that clearly stated, I can write the rest of the post with a clear conscience.

Wait, more clarifications. I love being pregnant. I love the fact that my body is housing three perfect little spirits and helping them grow. Especially since at one point, I came to an acceptance that I was never going to be pregnant in this lifetime. I love that our three little munchkins will be a combo of me and my handsome husband. Especially since I also accepted the fact that this might never happen. So now that I am actually bulging and huge, I love it. Very grateful and very happy.

Alright, I think that sums up the disclaimers. Let me proceed...

Being pregnant with 3 babies is crazy!

I skipped that happy 2nd trimester phase where you are pregnant and comfortable and loving life. I maybe had 10 days of that feeling. I went from 1st trimester puking and 24/7 nausea to 3rd trimester swelling and not being able to sleep at night.

Within a couple days I became temporarily unmarried. I had to take off my wedding ring for fear it would make my ever swelling sausage looking finger turn purple and fall off. Chris had to go sleep in the next room because I need 25 pillows in various places to be comfortable at night. I just tell myself it's only temporary. We still love each other. Big sigh on the separate beds thing.

The carpal tunnel is pretty cool. I haven't felt the tips of my fingers for a month. My hands will literally not close in the morning. Sweet Chris makes my breakfast for me. Luckily (well, not for them) my sister's house had some delays in closing so she is still here for my beck and call. Not to mention my mom taking a 1/2 day off from school to drive me to the doctor because I can't grip a steering wheel for longer than 5 minutes. It's a group effort really. My entire family is amazing.

Itching? Yes. Stomach? Of course. Every other place on my body that is covered in skin? You betcha. Itching and itching and itching. I'm wondering if there is a procedure where you can peel your skin off and just start over. I did see it in a Shel Silverstein poem once...but that was because they were hot, not because of itching.

Okay. I feel better. Thanks for letting me be honest. Thanks for not mistaking my documenting of crazy pregnancy symptoms (to me anyway...I've never done this before!) with complaining.

The babies are growing and healthy! I had a mini anxiety breakdown the other night when I was investigating my belly and I came to the realization that these 3 people had to come out sometime and when they did we had to take care of them...like always...there are only two parents...little ones need a lot of love...I'm only one, very inexperienced, first time mom. I almost broke down. Then I saw the strangest thing.

A ladybug crawling down the mirror. I was in the basement bathroom. Usually known for spiders. And it was November. Cold. But here was this beautiful ladybug, crawling right across my line of sight. I used to count spots when I was younger. Each spot was a wish. So I counted. Fifteen spots. Fifteen is a multiple of three. I thought that had to be a good sign. I gave each one 4 wishes. I saved the last 3 for myself. I'm keeping them in reserve for an anxiety ridden rainy
day.


Lady bug from:
myladybags.com/LadyBugs.html

Where Do I Send My Dues?

So, who is the official president here? Do we have weekly or monthly meetings? Just wondering. Now that I am an official member.

Yes, I have them. It all happened so suddenly. I didn't even send in an application.

Stretch marks. So don't say 'join the club.' Okay? I'm already in.

Baby Update

Week number 19 with the kiddos is here. My odd weeks is when I visit the doctor and get to see pictures of all their little body parts and see them kicking like crazy. Talk about movers! I can't believe I don't feel them more often than I do. My ultrasound tech thinks it's because all three placentas (Okay, I just crossed that line. I'm now the pregnant lady who gives out too much information. No one likes to think about someone else's placentas. Seriously. Sorry. Can't go back now.) are in the front. Lots of padding to refract their tiny little kicks.

So, everyone is doing absolutely wonderful! Which brings me to my overdue thanks. I'm not a big fan of the universal show of gratitude via the blog world, but my heart is completely overflowing with gratitude. If I don't share it, there might be a serious build up, flood, disaster, something.

So, thank you. Thank you to everyone who has ever told us congratulations or thought about the health of our little babies or told us they are praying for our family. It is overwhelming to think about all the prayers and blessing being sent our way to make sure our babies are healthy. We feel them. I know our babies feel them.

'Thank you' seems like two weak, unsuitable words compared to what I want to convey. But the tears flowed freely on my way home from the doc when I realized the support and love these babies have been getting from people they haven't even met yet! I will tell our little dudes how they were prayed here. I will tell them how many people were cheering for their health and safety.

By the way, did I mention I will be telling our two sons and one daughter all this? I wish everyone could have seen what I did when Chris found out he was having two boys and a girl. It will be in my mind forever!


Baby stats:
6 arms, 6 hands, 6 legs and 6 feet - all limbs look normal and healthy.
6 kidneys all appear to be functioning.
12 heart chambers all pumping hard and healthy.
3 bladders all full.
6 eyes, 3 lips, 3 noses (I swear baby a has his daddy's nose!).
2 little boy parts.
1 girl part.
Baby A : 11 ounces. (boy)
Baby B: 12 ounces. (boy)
Baby C: 13 ounces. (little girl weighing in the biggest!)
Mama and Papa: pleased as punch. Happy as clams. Tickled pink (and blue).

Thanks again everyone.

My Million Dollar Idea

You've heard of the "womb noises" CD for newborns, right? It supposedly mimics the heartbeat heard by baby in utero.

Well, wrap up your little bundle, place them in a gently rocking swing and let them fall asleep to "Digestion Sounds of Pregnancy."

I'm pretty sure my babies hear that way more often than they the 'whoosh, whoosh, whoosh' sound that we all think is prominent.

Gurgle....

Blurp...

Oogle Loogle Loo... bloop.

Ahh. That's nice. Good night.



PS - Babies are approx. size of a bell pepper. Red are my favorite.

Baby and Belly or Exponential Growth

Post worthy! Attention! Attention! New baby niece has arrived! She was a week early. 12 hours before she was born her mama said she felt like she could be pregnant for another month. (Wow.) Mom and dad checked in the hospital at 1:00 am and little baby girl came to join them 37 minutes later! She is beautiful and perfect and our growing family is getting larger and bounteous by the month. The only tinge of sadness is that she is 12 hours away in sunny California. Does anyone know of a molecular transporter module machine I can borrow? I promise I'll give it right back.


In other baby related news, I thought I would document my ever so growing belly. I am 4 months and 1 week (aka 17 weeks for you purists out there). I am amazed everyday at how large carrying three babies around makes your midsection. Seriously. If this was a singleton how far along would this belly really be? 8 months? No. I have no idea. Chris loves, loves, loves how big I am. He takes pictures every week. I'm sure one day it will be fun to look back and see the exponential growth.

Exponential. That is the word that keeps coming to mind when I think of all the new little ones that will joining our family. (Because there is one more besides ours still to come!) It is also the word of the day every time I catch a glimpse of my round, bulbous belly.


Both are really, really great.

So, What Have You Been Up To?

As mentioned in a previous post, we're living in the mountains right now. What I didn't make clear is where I am living. I'm back home. My hubby and I are mooching it up right now at ma and pa's. Since our return home from working in Connecticut, we've been on the look out and searching for a home to call our own. A home to raise a family in. A family of five! So, graciously and without guile, my parents said, "stay as long as you need to."

As generous as that offer is, we do feel a sense of urgency to get settled. (It's kind of hard to nest in a home that isn't yours, ya know?) So, we look and apply and make offers. It's a process. The good news, we aren't the only ones calling the Oakley homestead 'home.' My sister and her family are here too! Her family too is in a transition period and are patiently waiting for their new home to be built. Gainful employment is the reason we are both living back home a short while, not the other way around. Just in case anyone was worried.

It's been fun to be home. Especially with my sister and her kids. We even had an extra border here from California for two weeks! Yet another sister and her darling toddler. It was like the old days where multiple families and generations living together was the norm. It was a blast. We even canned peaches like they did in the old days - back in 1982. (Joking. We just aren't a canning family, so it was kind of a big deal.)

The nature of our life circumstances lately find me at home. No job, just home. It's a good thing actually. Because sometimes I wake up at 8:30 and am ready for a nap at 10:00 am. Just like my 18 month old niece. The only difference is I don't cry right before I lay down. (Much.) But I have been busy. You wouldn't believe all the things there is to do in a day in house full of little ones. My 4 year old nephew is busy all day long and sometimes I am lucky enough to be included in his to do list.

Like the other day there were a million clones in the the house. A million! Armed with light sabers and jacks, we got rid of a lot of them. Then there is Clifford alphabet bingo, Monopoly, (You think Monopoly is long with regular rules? Try playing by a 4 year old's rules!) and of course the occasional movie for quiet time. (My favorite.)

And while my sister is doing my dishes and changing the laundry for me, I try to be useful and make sure her little one isn't eating soap or trying to jump off the table. Most times she is in the pantry. In fact, when her little cousin from California was here, (they are the same age) that is where they spent most of their time. Pulling out cereal boxes and fruit snacks. Sometimes they would bring something to you if they really wanted it but couldn't quite figure out how to get the food out. But most times, it was a free for all of little toddler hands taking turns dipping into the cereal.

Watching those two together, I couldn't help but think, HOW AM I GOING TO KEEP UP WITH THREE?!? And these two are totally normal toddlers. Busy, crazy, happy, grumpy, going from morning til nap til dinner til night. Phew. But keep up I will. I have a little while before that stage. It's just one step at a time. And right now, the step is celebrating a successful first trimester and countdown to week 19 when we will find out what is cooking in there. 3 boys? (Yikes.) 3 girls? (Yikes.) Combo? (Okay, yikes, yikes.)

My 'yikes' are tongue in cheek of course. 'Yikes' is a general way to describe most days when I think of my expectations I have for myself as a mother of three at once. But, again, there is peace. So, I can't say 'yikes' too much. So bring on week 15. Bring on pantry raids. Bring on morning naps and clones and dear, dear sisters who take care of you (even though one of them is 8 months pregnant herself - love you Meg!).

It really is a charmed life.

Genesis 30:22

My heart is imperfect.

It also has the memory of an elephant. Sometimes it's a curse because I can remember every single heartache I've ever had about NOT being round and great with child. But most times, it resonates the healing that has happened. Somewhere along this journey, while still carrying around an empty womb, my heart was healed. All the cracks and fissures that happened because babies were being born all around me and none were mine - were sealed up.

I'm thankful for the memory of my tiny, hurt heart because it makes my new and improved heart that much better. It's stronger, larger and more capable of loving. It became calm and patient. My desperate pleas turned into quiet hopes. The babies being born all around me were wonderful and beautiful and I could hold them and smell them and be thankful that they joined us in this crazy life. It was okay that they weren't my babies. My once smaller, whole heart is now fuller with bulging stitches and cracks filled in with sacrificial cement from a loving Savior.

I'm so grateful for my new, stitched up heart fresh with scars and memory. Because I have a storm coming my way. A blessed, welcome storm. The way I see it, I will need three times the love. Three times the patience. Three times the gratitude. Three times the diapers! Our famine is over. Please pray for our little family. Pray that this new feast of blessings will continue to grow and thrive. We still have a long way to go until there will be sighs of real relief. But for now, I am calm. I am happy. I am blessed beyond what I deserve.

Isn't Chris going to be the best daddy?