Three Years

It is the beginning of February 2007 and I am 25 weeks pregnant with triplets. My midsection has now surpassed the size of a full term pregnancy and I am bigger than I was when I delivered Abigail. I continue to wear my maternity overalls around the house although I can no longer button the sides. Clothes that fit are quickly becoming scarce so I have been throwing together hodgepodge outfits of pajama bottoms and maternity shirts.

The weather hasn't been too bad but I can no longer leave the house as I have difficulty walking and breathing. My last real outing (outside of a doctor's appointment) was back in December to purchase a new cell phone, mainly for safety reasons. My old cell phone was considered an antique and because it was analog, my service provider was charging me extra each month. I told the salesperson that I wanted the most basic Nokia cell phone that they had, please nothing fancy or complicated to use, and spent most of that outing sitting down while Rich handled the transaction.

My mom visits quite frequently these days as she resigned from her job almost a year ago when I was pregnant with Abigail. She spent most of the fall watching my niece, Beth, for my brother and sister-in-law instead. There are quite a few 'insteads' in my life now.

There is a stomach flu outbreak and my brother and his family fall ill. After five days or so and an enormous amount of bleach, my mom is supposed to watch Beth again and I know that she is going to get sick. And she does. We all agree that she could have picked it up anywhere. The grocery store. The bank. Target. My mom calls in the morning to say that she has been throwing up all night. I spend the next day walking on thin ice. Waiting. And the next morning, it hits me. I puke and puke and puke. There is absolutely nothing in me and I keep puking. My stomach, my uterus, my babies, heave and strain. I think I am going to explode.

After hours and hours of puking, I call into my doctor's office. I want, need reassurance that everything will be fine, that the three little babies inside of me are not in any danger. After I explain my situation to the nurse, I ask, "This isn't going to throw me into labor, is it?" She responds with, "We hope not." Not what I want to hear.

I try to eat a Pedialyte popsicle and I feel better for about five minutes. The icy grape concoction in my mouth is refreshing. Minutes tick by. I start puking again. I try water. Puke. I can't keep anything in my stomach.

The babies have been churning inside of me all day. I make sure to keep track of their swimming, playing, spinning. As the day wears on, they slow down. I begin to have more and more contractions but I have been having frequent Braxton Hicks contractions for over a month. I try to convince myself that everything will be fine. It doesn't work.

After eleven hours of vomiting, I find myself propped up in an uncomfortable cot-like hospital bed in the Labor and Delivery Unit of a Boston hospital. I was immediately hooked up to contraction monitor and an IV upon arrival. My mouth is so dry and full of thick cotton. I am dehydrated. I am having frequent contractions. I am petrified.

But the babies look wonderful during an ultrasound scan.
But my cervix is still completely closed.
But my fFN test returns with a negative result.
But my contractions slowly dissipate.

I know how lucky I am. This story could have had a very different ending.

It is a bit hard to believe but Rich and I have started to plan the girls' third birthday party. We made the decision to have it at a fun spot this year so we are currently working out all of the logistics. I really want them to have an absolute blast and, unfortunately, the weather around these parts in April can be quite unpredictable so there's lots of planning to do.

It seems so odd sometimes to check in on my little babies sleeping in their big girl beds. (That is, when they actually sleep in them.) When did they grow up? (And I need to add, when are they just going to go to sleep without all of this funny business? It is driving. me. INSANE.)

But I am smiling.