Four years

Tuesday was called "High Risk Day" in the OB office at the hospital because it was the day that all high risk pregnancies were scheduled for appointments. As you can imagine, almost all of those appointments ran over so it made for a very long day. It wasn't unusual to have to wait an hour past your scheduled time for the doctor to see you. Especially if you were having an ultrasound.

I had been seeing an MFM (Maternal Fetal Medicine specialist) from the start of my pregnancy. Before I even knew that I was pregnant with triplets, my pregnancy was considered high risk because they could not conclude on what happened with Abbey.

One of the 10 billion questions we asked after three babies were discovered was when could we expect them to be delivered. My doctor told me that his goal was to get me to 34 weeks. In January, I started asking when we could schedule my c-section appointment. He wouldn't and told us that in all likelihood something would happen before then. My water would break. I would go into labor. "Something" would happen.

I now realize that there was a whole laundry list of items he excluded. Most likely for my sanity. The babies would develop twin-to-twin transfusion. One of the babies would be in distress. Placenta issues. Anna's hydrocephalus. Something would happen to the babies.

So even with a few scares, I was there every Tuesday for my appointment with no signs of the babies coming. It became a running joke. At each appointment, I would ask if we could schedule my c-section. And my doctor wouldn't. When we hit March, I just wanted a date on the calendar to look forward to. I wanted a goal that I could see. Plus, I was getting tired of saying, "We don't know," whenever someone asked when the babies would be born.

Four years ago today, I was 34 weeks and 4 days pregnant. It was extremely uncomfortable to sit upright for more than 10 minutes. I could only sleep for an hour and a half at a time. I waddled into my appointment supporting my belly with one hand while the other held my pants up and was told that my c-section had been scheduled for April 16th, Marathon Monday.

That was four years ago. This is now.

Well, two days ago. And we won't mention the fact that the television was holding their attention.

And no, the girls weren't born on the 16th. A week later, at my last appointment, I was told, "Surprise! We have to change your c-section due to scheduling conflicts." I received a phone call the next day. "Surprise! Can you be here first thing in the morning?"

Surprise is a good word to use when you have triplets.