In celebration of our triplets' sixth birthday today, I have pulled out this old piece I wrote when they were newborns. If you've ever wondered what it's like to have triplets, here you go! If you are looking for an update on Tyler, you won't find it here. Go to my post from earlier today. Thanks, and happy reading!
Has the thought ever occurred to you that someone could film any
given consecutive 5 minutes of your life and it would be a hit on YouTube? Such
is my life as of a mom of six kids, three being triplet infants.
Picture this. I have one baby (heretofore referred to as baby
#1) in the kitchen sink to give him a bath. While I am there, I see the pile of
bottles that need to be cleaned. I realize that baby #2 will want one of those
bottles very soon. So I give baby #1 a one-handed bath while doing a one-handed
bottle cleaning, which involves a drop of dish soap, hot water, and vigorous
shaking. I manage to do all this while standing on one leg because my other leg
is lifted up at a 110 degree angle onto the countertop beside me in order to
prevent baby #3 (who has already had her bath) from falling off the counter. It
doesn't even occur to me that this is strange until after the fact.
Every three hours comes around way, way too soon. "Feed the
babies every three hours," the doctor said when they were born. That sounded
fairly easy at the time—probably because of the pain meds I was on.
Three hours. 180 minutes. Every three hours goes something like
this:
- 3 minutes to make the bottles.
- 25 minutes to feed the first two babies the first half of their bottles. (Preemie babies would rather sleep than eat.)
- 6 minutes of burping.
- 5 minutes of trying to wake up baby #1 and baby #2 so they will take the rest of their bottle, then giving up on them in frustration.
- 20 minutes of feeding baby #3 until babies #1 and #2 realize they really do want the rest of their bottles and start screaming for them.
- 2 minutes to quickly burp baby #3 while babies #1 and #2 continue to scream.
- 20 minutes of feeding babies #1 and #2 again.
- 1 minute of giving baby #1 and #2 the lecture about the importance of eating quickly because as soon as baby #3 starts crying to have the rest of her bottle I am officially done with baby #1 and #2. (The lack of sleep makes me think that the babies actually understand what I am trying to tell them.)
- 3 more minutes of burping #1 and #2.
- 15 minutes of feeding baby #3 the rest of her bottle.
- 2 more minutes of burping.
- 4 minutes of diaper changes.
- 6 minutes of clothing changes, which can extend to 10 minutes if I realize the dressers are all out of clean clothes and I have to rummage through the piles of unfolded but clean laundry in the utility room.
- 1.7 minutes to change the bedding the babies have just spit up, peed, or pooped on.
- 2 minutes to take out the trash can full of diapers.
- 2 more minutes to wait on my toddler to find and put on her shoes, because she thinks she has to go with me to take out the trash.
- 1 minute to break up a fight between my two oldest kids.
- 17 minutes of doing miscellaneous things for my 3 older kids that I promised I would do if they would please "just wait until mommy finishes feeding the babies."
- 30 minutes to fix the family some food.
- 3 minutes of listening to the kids complain about whatever I chose to fix.
- I sometimes, but not always, get to spend the next 6.2 minutes eating the meal I slaved over before someone spills something or starts crying. (That person is sometimes me.)
- 10 minutes to gather laundry and start a load, wishing I had done this as soon as I had finished feeding the babies because the last of the burp rags are in this load and I will need them again all too soon.
- 1 minute to pull the clean laundry out of the dryer and put it in a basket. (This is much easier than the 20 minutes required to fold and put away the laundry, but it comes back to haunt me later.)
- 1.6 minutes to do the math to determine whether or not I have enough time to empty the dishwasher and put all 15 dirty bottles in a load before it's time to feed the babies again, then realizing that I passed that critical moment about 6.7 minutes ago.
- 4 minutes to hand wash 3 bottles while promising myself that I will start the next load of dishes as soon as I finish the next feeding so I don't have to do this again.
- The next 2 minutes are spent in agony trying to decide whether I should spend my valuable remaining 17 minutes taking a nap or taking a shower. That is a very, very hard decision.
Well, I really don't have the time to do the math to determine
if that's 180 minutes or not, but you get the idea. Interspersed between all of
this is my attempt to parent my three older kids while managing crying babies,
moving them from crib to swing to floor gym to lap to bouncy seat, and so on. Whatever
it takes to keep them happy! Of course, this entire schedule is turned head
over heals if even one of the three babies is gassy, fussy, constipated, or has
diarrhea. It is a really bad day when all three of them have these problems.
Of course, the babies wouldn't be having as many gassy, fussy,
constipated, diarrhea-filled days if I breastfed them. I recently saw an
episode of Oprah in which she was interviewing a mom of sextuplets. This mom
actually managed to breastfeed 6 babies! I began to think this woman was either
a superhero or absolutely crazy. I decided that all of my breasts' super powers
were already consumed by my other three children. "Breast is best" is
what doctors, dieticians, and Oprah say. I whole-heartedly agree—as long as the number
of babies does not exceed the number of breasts.
Lack of sleep is an issue for any mother with a baby. But it
compounds exponentially with every additional baby. It takes about one and half
hours to do a feeding-burping-diapering-cleanup cycle. That is followed by
rocking, walking, and crying with the one fussy child who won't go back to
sleep. In dread, I count the minutes I have left until I have to feed them all
again. That gives me approximately 27 minutes of sleep per night. OK. That was
an exaggeration. But that's what it feels like.
Have you ever fed a baby a bottle with your foot? I have. It's
really not as hard as it sounds. It is possible to feed three babies at once. I
only attempt to do this if all three are screaming at the same time. The time
which you save by feeding three at once is lost in the clean-up time which
comes in tow. When feeding three at once, it is harder to take time out to burp
them. So the result is a much greater volume of spit-up, which means doing more
laundry and scrubbing a couch.
OK, well it's not as bad as it sounds. I really do get a lot of
help. Most thirty-something's like me would cry at the thought of having to
move back in with their parents. Even more crying would result from the
prospect of your parents moving in with you. However, when you have three kids
and find out you are expecting triplets, an exception occurs. You become
ecstatic at the idea of your mom moving in with you for three months, then you
cry when she leaves.
Help comes in other, very unusual ways. Have you ever had a
strange grown man come to your door unexpectedly, saying that he goes to your
church and that he knows your husband, offering to do whatever he can to help,
and then you excitedly take him up by showing him to the lawn mower? I have. Maybe
I should start running background checks first. Have you ever given a basket of
dirty laundry filled with who-knows-what to your cousin so that she can give it
to a lady in her church whom you have never met? I have, and I'm glad to say
that the laundry was returned in tact and clean. Have you ever accepted a meal
from a complete stranger just because she said she was a friend of a friend and
heard we needed help? I have. We prayed against any malicious food poisoning
before we ate it, so we felt safe. Have you ever let in a complete stranger who
looks sweet and says she is here to help babysit your kids? She says our friend
so-and-so sent her. I have, and I am glad to report that she has turned out to
be a huge blessing and a newfound friend.
You may be wondering, "If it's as difficult as she says,
how did she find time to write this silly essay?" The answer lies in my
newfound ability to make mental notes. I can't make real notes when my hands
are full of two babies, laundry, and a dirty bowl, for example. So I spend my
baby-feeding times taking these mental notes, which are not as easily kept
track of as real notes. However, I have managed to compile the highlights of
these mental notes and use my un-busy second foot to type out this description
of a day in my life.
Many people have said to me, "One day you will look back on
this time of your life and laugh." But it occurred to me that if I wait
for "someday," I will spend a lot of years upset about my life. I am
so blessed to have this family. I am making it a point to laugh about it now
while the emotions are deep and sleep-deprivation is fresh—to take joy in the
blessing God has entrusted me with. I'd rather laugh and cry and get excited
and get mad right now while I'm squarely in the big fat middle of it than go
through it like a zombie and wonder where the time went. As a good friend of
mine (actually, several good friends of mine) say, I want to be present during
my life. So thank you for reading my attempt to be present.
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