As long as I can remember, I have gone out of my mind during what I now know as the luteal phase of my menstrual cycle. I clearly remember going off the deep end the night before my first period. I’d been moody for days. I had gotten yelled at about the printer (whatever) and that was enough to make me think I needed to end my life. I made myself take 20 Tylenol (I was 13, give me a break). Then as I started having physical symptoms like cramping, vomiting and a massive headache, I begged my mom to take me to the ER. You know when we got there… boom, period. Awesome.
It wasn’t until my late 20s that I learned about PMDD. It’s Pre-Menstrual Dysphoric Disorder, and it is real. You can google, but basically my brain chemistry cannot handle hormonal shifts. It is not the hormone levels, but the changes of them that create symptoms of intense depression, rage, and suicidal ideation. It makes interactions with anyone difficult, and especially close relationships. It makes having a job difficult. Especially combined with the lack of sleep from working nights.
Now that I am aware of it and know it’s coming, it’s understandable, but the intense feelings do not go away. I’ve tried almost every birth control there was up until 28. I had nightmarish issues with bleeding from one, cystic acne from another, as well as painful fibroadenomas and an ovarian cyst. I finally just said screw it.
I’ve tried taking medication and increasing the dose during that time, but it still shows up. It is always a tortuous 10-14 days where I just don’t want to do anything. The best I ever did with it was while I could get to hot yoga and run every other day.
I’ve just started cycling again after having the triplets and add in the fact that THEY ARE GOING INSANE RIGHT NOW… let’s say I’m having a rough patch.
The boys are 7.5 months actual, about 6 adjusted now. They’re amazing. They’re big, they’re happy and silly. They’re driving me crazy.
They have gotten so busy trying to become mobile that they cannot be bothered to do anything else. Mainly, eating. Then we go to bed and need to eat all night about every 3-4 hours. We tried a lot of different strategies, but less milk meant more waking times three and it’s just awful. So now they don’t want to eat all day but are awake and unpleasant and frustrated by trying to move and me trying to reverse their reversed feeding cycle.
This cycle, I’ve become unable to tolerate this frustration. I found myself yesterday literally growling after failing to feed the babies during daytime hours. I was so crazy, I had to remove myself. I got them all to nap and took off on my first run in years. A whole whopping mile. But I felt a little better after.
I don’t know how to get the boys back on track. I think there will just have to be a lot of crying. From all of us.
But maybe I can start to get myself back on track and embrace the crazy triplet momma life.
The wildest 2 hours of our lives…. all of us. Except Lisey (Zzzzz)
On August 31st, Ben and I sat down at night to watch Netflix and wind down. The boys felt like they were winding up inside me. Not unusual at that time of day, but I was impressed by this. I think I had gotten up to pee 3 times already in a brief period. I told Ben, “(baby) A is kicking me so hard I can’t tell if I really have to go or not.”
I sat next to Ben and made him feel down at baby A’s region just how crazy he was being, and his intense hiccups. I said, “Oh my god, I have to go again….”
I got up and made it a few steps.
I was peeing myself.
I hadn’t done this the whole time! What the hell?!
I took one more step. Okay, this is more pee than could possibly be in there…
Get to the bathroom. Pull down PJ pants.
Insert scene from Carrie. From my waist down.
“Ben, get in here.”
I sat on the toilet and let loose some large percentage of my blood volume. It just kept flowing. This is a strange experience… you keep waiting for it to stop like you are just going to the bathroom. You sit there holding toilet paper planning to clean yourself up. You slowly realize this isn’t stopping at all. In fact this is bad, bad, bad.
Ben says something, looks very pale. I credit him my life with not fainting. I know he wanted to. He scrambled to find me my phone.
I dialed MFMs answering service. They told me if the doctor didn’t call in 20 minutes to call her back. Hmm, I’m watching my toilet water rise up to meet me with bright red blood… I’ll pass on waiting that long. I dialed 911, who had to remind me I should check and make sure that I couldn’t feel a baby coming out. Then, to get off the pot, since we don’t want anyone born in there. Eventually, we got the local EMS out to our sort of tough to find house.
Ben had contacted our amazing neighbors, Nate and Beth to come by and sit with the baby monitor while my mom traveled over from NH.
The EMS driver, Owen just happened to have triplet younger brothers! So strange. So perfect. The older, more experienced EMT, Mike, was so “Maine”. If he was a little nervous, it didn’t show. He told me he’d delivered 2 babies en route, but we would try not to do numbers 3, 4, and 5.
My bleeding seemed to have slowed some while sitting on a stool. But as we got up to get on the stretcher (in my kitchen hallway) I had another huge gush. Mike felt we needed two super absorbent large trauma pads… No biggie. The stretcher was so uncomfortable, our bumpy driveway was awful… I was hooked up to a ZOLL(the defibrillator that shocks you during CPR), my telemetry and vitals were reassuring to me.
Mike told the young driver he wanted this 50 minute ride to MMC to take 35. They sure did.
Meanwhile, I had heard from the Dr covering, who after planning to see me at MMC, called back to be sure there wasn’t somewhere closer… there really isn’t time-wise. I assured her of Mike and Owen’s ambitious goals.
No way was I showing up at Bridgton hospital bleeding with triplets… they would send us to MMC anyway.
Mike and I were alone in the back, Ben up front with our bags packed for exactly this emergency. I kept thinking two people can not do NRP (neonatal resuscitation program) on three babies! We didn’t have a single fetal monitor, let alone one for triplets. They had to make it there inside.
Reassuringly, I felt babies moving. Surely B and C. I kept tapping at Baby A to be sure he was okay. I could not honestly tell. I was terrified. I was in pain. I looked out and saw us fly through a 30mph zone in Standish faster than I think anyone has gone through it.
Mike started an IV on me and ran “an aggressive KVO”; enough fluid to keep the vein open and also maybe replace some of my fluid lost.
I saw bits of Gorham, Westbrook go flying by. I actually prayed for my babies to be okay. I haven’t gone to church in YEARS. I saw the MMC garage. Thank you, lord.
We got inside and the guys tried to bring us to the ED. They want nothing to do with triplets that aren’t falling out yet, believe me.
Up on L&D triage we got in a room and I had to shift from one stretcher to another. The blood gushed out again. This time with a big old clot in there. The EMTs and the nurses exchanged some info on me, and we settled down. I met and sort of made a plan with the resident. So happy to be there and see Ben again I stopped worrying for a few minutes. I heard from my mom that Elise hadn’t even stirred. I briefly thought about the gross scene in the bathroom…
The resident did an ultrasound and all babies had heart rates. Phew.
Laying there, talking with our nurse Lynn; who had admitted me to have Elise when I was in labor, we were struggling to catch everyone on the monitor. Get one, lose one, get one, lose two. Lynn looked at my bleeding after I had another gush. I saw her nurse face… “that’s really bad but I’m not saying it out loud” I know that face, I make that face. She realized no one had seen the blood quite yet who could make a critical call.
Dr Rainville came in with the resident and clearly decided these guys are getting here tonight. Sign C-section consent, sign anesthesia consent. Get labs drawn, a second HUGE IV placed. The nurses prepping me for massive blood loss. Talk with anesthesia… But Lynn was finding baby As heart rate down in the 90s, down from where it should be. He was in distress.
Everyone showed up throwing on scrub hats, we were going! I had to get general anesthesia. No time for a spinal procedure, no chance to be awake to meet my babies, no chance for Ben to even come with me. I glanced at the three baby stations, panicked. So many things happened getting prepped for surgery in sheer minutes.. painful positioning, a catheter, iodine painting on my huge belly.
Lynn, seeing my fear, was so reassuring. I could barely see through the oxygen mask over my face. I heard them say NICU was coming in. I turned my head to the left and saw Jani’s eyes through her hat and mask. I cried with relief. They pushed drugs, I was out.
I imagine shortly after, so were my 3 boys. Born at 12:10, 12:11, and 12:12, Andrew, Isaac, and Caleb were finally here.
If you want to know how they were when they came out, ask my NICU coworkers, because I really don’t know.
Andrew Everett and MichelleIsaac LawrenceCaleb Matthew
Mid July brought the official start of the third trimester of my triplet pregnancy. They say things come in threes right? This “third” was a little ugly.
I really panicked about taking Lisey for family fun and that our days together were ticking away too fast.
I could handle maybe one outing a day and would then be too tired to do much else. Early on in this stretch we brought Elise to pick blueberries on a perfect day and she thought it was the BEST place in the world. We would take a day off at home, then spend another day going to the lake, or the beach. After a bit of this it started to be clear it was too much. I would wake up wanting so bad to bring Elise somewhere fun… but could tell I was going nowhere.
Late in July I decided we would take her to the wildlife park in Gray. I showered, got out and the scary started. I had a large amount of pink tinged mucous (you’re welcome for the image) pass that morning. I became very crampy and tight. I was terrified I was going into preterm labor at 29 weeks. Too soon for these boys. I also knew with a low lying placenta I had a risk of bleeding badly. (Ahem, foreshadowing.)
I went in and got checked, the cramping tapered off… but it was real now. They thought my cervix looked closed; unable to really check due to the placenta.
I had to chill. We had another weekend where we had more of this drainage every day and spent a Sunday at MMC. Again it “looked” okay. So I had a new normal. Don’t do anything.
Doing nothing.
Ben had to take over all of the dinner planning and cooking on top of getting his plans ready for his substitute teacher. He had to keep entertaining the 2 year old and helping me, caring for the house and yard. A visit from nana and GPa was a big help. Cleaning up and playing with Elise.
Appointments continued to be consistently “fine”. We had a few great 4D ultrasound photos of two of the guys, and they looked so sweet and just like their big sis. Finally, in August the boys were given their notice to vacate the premises.
The next week, they got it moved up even further. I would’ve jumped for joy but I couldn’t. It had been another long sleepless night of Braxton Hicks and going to the bathroom, resulting in more soreness in the morning than the night.
Me Tuesday 8/28. On the way to the doc.
Plans were made, setting things up for after the big day. Ben went to school for a week; had students for one whole day. The first day he was gone, I pushed too hard and shopped in target with my mom and Elise. The next day she came to the doctors and then we went out to eat. We spent Wednesday at home together. I did too much with her again. Thursday I rested while she went to miss Rara’s; but I hurt the from whole week.
Friday, we had another ultrasound. Our first week of two scans a week. It was 33 weeks exactly. We brought Elise to an ultrasound finally, to see the brudders. They “painted my belly” and she got to see the guys jammed in there. She said “they’d do the poops”.
They looked great. All behaving and practice breathing. Plenty of fluid and movement. Not like Tuesday where it took baby A 20 minutes and a buzzer to the belly to wake up and practice breathe.
We took Lisey to Deering oaks. She did awesome. Then we went to El Rodeo as a family for what might be the last time. I had all the excuses to keep going. It was a great day. Elise napped, played with us sweetly outside in the evening, and went to bed easily in her new “comfy bed”. (A pillow and comforter).
Ben and I watched the long anticipated return of our favorite Netflix show; Ozark. He rubbed my feet, back for the millionth time. The babies were active, as usual. Things were “fine”.
We had no idea how soon we would meet the boys. We didn’t know it, but the third trimester was over.
In May, I cut back my work hours. I thought I could make it working 2 separated nights a week. I found myself needing to nap longer than I was okay with at work, and could hardly care for Elise at home (to my own standards, one could argue). I tried going down to 8 hour day shifts. It was good the first week but after 3 days of it I was run down, sore, and ended up with an awful cold. Yay. I think I made it through one more day, hardly… before I had an appointment at MFM where we decided it was time to stop pushing.
There was a lot of worry for us financially, but there was a chart in my book about expecting high order multiples showing the likelihood of extreme premature birth related to working (depending on the job, etc). Ben and I had listened to a panel with some twin moms at a Multiples class and all of them wished they had taken it easier, sooner. It also showed the average cost of a hospital stay per baby by weeks of gestation and I was okay with maybe owing thousands, but not millions. NICU is no cheap place for a baby or three to hang for a few months.
Even scarier for me was going on disability at 22 weeks meant my FMLA time only protected my job until just August. I’m not having babies until maybe September? So it feels kind of awful not knowing your job is there when you are ready to come back after such a change. And I wouldn’t have enough paid time off to take more than the allotted 6 weeks post-partum from Maine Med. I have yet to figure this out, but I’ll do what I have to. I finally have a job I love; I’m not leaving.
In early June I started on a medication for my reflux that actually ended up helping with my nausea quite a bit. I still got sick every morning but I felt better after. Jump for joy right?! Wrong. I went from sick to immobile.
My whole life I have had very loose joints, helping for dancing and cheerleading, but by my twenties I was living in a good bit of pain normally. It’s likely a genetic condition called Elhers Danlos, I’ve been told by multiple PTs that I have this, and even had an ortho doc pull on my upper arm from my shoulder and say, “Oh my god, that’s really loose.” So what do pregnancy hormones do? Make you even more loose and unstable. Add in the fact you are having three babies and have delivered one vaginally before… let’s just say my pelvis was already pretty jello-ey. I (still) sleep on a massive pregnancy pillow plus 5 or 6 others, on a heating pad, with an ice pack in my crotch. Realness.
Even after I stopped work I pushed stubbornly to have some normalcy. I ended up stopping the same week Ben got out of school for the summer and that was perfect. The last day of school I was in tears chasing Elise around the house and yard, putting her in her crib, etc. It was daddy’s turn! Although my clingy girl still doesn’t allow me to avoid picking her up at times.
It was time to really focus on getting triplet ready. First was the van, then the house. We were pretty productive in July. We found a used Toyota Sienna with low miles and I said goodbye to my pretty CR-V. We built three cribs in the boys room since we feared we wouldn’t find time once they were here to do it.
Still trying to be the cook.
We were also blessed by both of our work communities. Ben’s school collected thousands of diapers and wipes for us. My sweet work family threw us a great shower. Other family and friends have showed support and gifted us funds or things we need. It’s really humbling to see how much others care. It’s so hard now to do more than be on the couch, but the thank yous are in process. Even if you haven’t heard from us, we haven’t forgotten your kindness!
The last big deal of the second trimester was June 29: Viability day! There’s some debate in the Neonatal world about the true age of viability. I’ve seen babies born this tiny, it’s not pretty. Some do okay, some do not. Just the fact that my boys were finally viable was a huge weight off my shoulders (still there in the belly though!). It felt even better at the end of the trimester to get to 28 weeks; where survivability soars up to 90-something percent. By this point the boys had names picked but not shared, were all doing perfect at every ultrasound, and even growing at the rate of three singleton babies. Things were looking good to head down the home stretch.
Every time I look at this, I think of the mask from the Scream movies. Ironically, it’s the same face Michelle and I made when we found out there were three babies instead of one.
For the very first few weeks, before we knew about the trio, I was ravenous. I recall some nights when Ben and I would have our time to relax and watch Netflix after Elise went to sleep where I would snack so hard, I knew he was mortified. Too nice to say it, but it was clear in his eyes.
After maybe 6-7 weeks I started having the familiar feeling of constant yuck. Waking up and vomiting, vomiting if you don’t eat soon enough, not eating because you feel like vomiting… wanting absolutely nothing to eat. This plus working nights, gah! Forget it. It straight up sucked. When we found out there was three, I was finding little ways to cope, getting by every day, but surely not eating the recommended 4000 calories a day(ha!). And I wanted crap. Soda made me feel better. Bagels lasted a good while. Greek salads and mozzarella sticks. Never meat. Mexican food always appeals to me.
We had our initial consult at MFM on March 23rd. We met with Dr Litton, who reminded me that my three little parasites would just get glucose from me any way possible, whether I was eating or not.
We learned that despite being high risk, the chorionicity and amnionicity was tri/tri – meaning each baby had their own placenta and their own amniotic sac. This eliminates a slew of issues that other types of multiples can develop when sharing a cord or placenta. It also meant they were fraternal, unless by the slightest chance they all split from one egg early and implanted separately. There was a brief mention of selective reduction… but for whatever reason, I was given these three babies and if they were doing fine, I would carry them as long as I could.
I pushed through every day, finding that I already needed to nap at work instead of taking a 30-minute meal break. I also had to give up a lot of the extra shifts I had signed up for and let my boss know pretty quickly in order to do so. After about 12-14 weeks I felt mildly less fatigued and sick, but still vomited every morning, still had no appetite for healthy food. I made it to work… and tried to sleep. I started feeling more and more like physical activity was getting impossible by Elise’s birthday when I chased her around open gymnastics. The pain in my pelvic area and back was getting increasingly bad, and the stretching feeling in my abdomen was unreal.
By 14 weeks, I was as big as I was around 20 or more weeks with Elise, half-way to full term. I started working just in the CCN (more growing and feeding babies than tiny and sick ones) because my brain was a complete fog most of the time. Then I cut down my hours slightly at the end of May, and figured I could tough it out until the third trimester came along.
We also had a guess on genders in May. The crazy part was it was done first, by Elise. The night before an ultrasound she was in the tub, Ben and I were both in the room with her and trying to talk about the babies a little (she ignored most conversation about it for a long time). She wasn’t really talking to us or doing anything, but turned around and pointed at my belly and just said, “That’s my brothers.” and kept on about playing with her toys.
The next morning, we found out she was right. It was an early guess, but the tech was pretty sure I had a belly full of boys.
Michelle Finding out you are having more than one baby when you’ve never had any reproductive therapy is just crazy. It’s never really even been on my radar. Telling your family, friends, and so on is just insane. We decided that day to tell our parents that day. My mom simply said, “Don’t tell me that.” As if I could try to pull off a joke like that. She has accepted the idea, and even enjoys getting reactions out of people herself now.
Ben First off, we’ve got to rewind back to when we tried to tell my parents that we were pregnant again, before triplets were even a thing. We dressed Elise in a shirt that said ‘BIG SISTER’ in very large letters. She walked around the house with it for what seemed like an eternity. Michelle and I kept on exchanging glances like, “How have they not noticed yet?” In my head I was thinking like Kristoff from Frozen, “someone’s gotta tell ’em.” Eventually, we had to point out the shirt. My parents were very surprised and happy, but my dad admitted he ‘never reads shirts.’
When it came time to let them know we were having triplets, we really weren’t trying to be slick about how we presented it to them, but Mom was traveling and Dad was home so it required two separate phone calls. I told my dad first and after he came down from the initial surprise, I told him to call my mom and have her call me but also, DON’T RUIN THE SURPRISE! (My dad has been known to let a secret or two slip in his lifetime.) He agreed.
Two minutes later my mom calls back. I tell her she should be sitting down for the news she’s about to get. She says, “What are you, having triplets or something?” After a bit of confusion, we figured out that G-Pa had not spilled the beans, rather Nana simply took a wild guess at the most ridiculous news she could think of. Murphy’s Law, being what it is, meant that Nana was exactly right.
Michelle I was completely overwhelmed and terrified. We waited what felt like a long time for another baby, and now we had this risky pregnancy. I called Larissa, who is one of those people you can talk to whether it’s been a day or a few months. I forget details, but I know I was less shaky.
My sister I texted an ultrasound photo to. Her reply:
Congrats! I have no clue what that blob is but it looks like A baby is coming!
A baby, and B baby, and C baby!
Ben I called both of my sisters to let them know and they were incredibly excited with a side of ‘Holy S***!’ My nephew Sean and my niece Hannah now will have triplet cousins on both sides of the family. What are the odds of that? My sister Erica runs a daycare, so we joked that they should just move south because we have an entire daycare waiting for them.
Since I found out around basketball season, the only two friends I told were my assistant coaches, Dave and Sam. They could tell something was bothering me and Dave nailed it right away. Being a twin himself, he had some interesting advice about how close an eye we should keep on the wee little trio. Sam, the math teacher, was interested in the odds of this occurrence as well as the odds of them being identical.
Word eventually got around the school and the students knew. We probably wasted a few too many classroom minutes answering questions about triplets. Students were genuinely interested in how things were going; even the ones who didn’t love English class seemed like they wanted to know more.
Before we knew genders they figured out the odds of each combination and proceeded to hazard guesses as to what they would be. After, they would just pepper me with daily questions about what we would eventually name the babies, but they never figured them out despite heavy persistence.
Michelle After a few days I was still basically walking around not only feeling sick and pregnant, but shaking with anxiety and fear. How was I supposed to deal with this and keep it a secret? I’m pretty sure my coworkers were going to think I was on drugs or something since I was already a mess from being sick. If something happened and we lost the trio, I would never be able to hide it. I decided to just let it come out as it needed to. I told a few people I was closer to first, and it gradually came out. These were people who work in the field and understand the risks I was facing. We even have an NP there who had her own triplets! I am so grateful to them for helping support me along the way. They continue to help me keep going when I am still pretty nervous about bringing these guys home.
We were going to wait the standard 12 weeks before sharing with the online community… but that coincided with April fools week, and this was nothing to joke about. So we did the week before, and the responses were great. A lot of “Oh my god!” Most people are just curious, I know. But even those people share kind words and supportive sentiments. I know we both have needed the support and I don’t regret sharing our story.
Social media has also given us the gift of connecting with other moms and families near and far who have gone through or are currently going through the same adjustments. I have learned so much and enjoyed being part of the 2018 Triplet community. I’m not sure how anyone could go it alone. Seeing families who already have their babies home for a bit makes us feel that we can figure this craziness out.
On Feb 5, 2018 I knew I was pregnant. However, it had taken over 6 months to happen, and I continued to get negative home tests. I called my OB since my cycle was a week late and they had me come in for blood work. Later that afternoon, it was confirmed. Finally, a little brother or sister for sweet Elise.
We waited excitedly for the first ultrasound. In that first month, I was sick. But I was sick last time, I expected it. I was convinced it was the same. Ben was not. Our family trip to Vermont was complicated by my lack of ability to eat. Ben wasn’t able to make it to the first scan for Lisey, and I remember seeing that tiny nugget waving her hands already and just losing it. He had to come to this one.
So, on March 5, 2018 we went in for a “quick” dating scan and OB appointment. We joked on the way in about people finding out they’re having twins and needing to get a minivan. I only had 3 ultrasounds with Elise, but as a nurse found it easy to see most things and understand what it was. Early ultrasounds are done with a vaginal probe which the technician hands to you to insert into yourself before they take over. I inserted it. I looked at the screen. There were two bubbles. “Oh God, there’s two” I said to the tech as I handed it to her. She wiggled it a bit, made a few faces…
“Actually, I think there’s three.”
Now I honestly don’t remember everything after this. Its fragmented. I know I started shaking like a leaf. I know I heard Ben say “We’re having f***ing triplets?!”. I know I just thought of my poor sweet Elise, my whole world, and how her world was about to get flipped.
The RN brain speaks up. It’s super early, this is not necessarily going to stick, one or two could get absorbed, are they even all alive?
Ben makes some joke about a basketball team, I tell him to shut up. I just want to know if they all have healthy heart rates.
Of course they do. They’re perfect. They’re measuring to be 7 weeks and 3 days gestation. Of course my blood pressure is a bit high in the exam room with Dr Kenny. Of course I find a great OB that I like and then have to transfer to MFM for high risk care.
Of course we wrap up the plan for another viability scan in a week and go eat at El Rodeo. Ben walks in and says to the host, “Just two.” I die inside. We laugh. You mean 5, buddy.
Holy moly. Now what???
That night, the three of us had a cuddle on the couch, and Lisey must have sensed something was up. She comes out with the cutest head shaking and “Don’t worry mom, don’t worry Da. It’s be okay.” Thank God for that girl.
We had our initial consult at MFM on March 23rd. We met with Dr Litton, who reminded me that my three little parasites would just get glucose from me any way possible, whether I was eating or not.
Lisey Plus Three 