Our Birth Story

The boys were born on January 2 at 6:44 p.m. I remember hearing three little tiny cries one right after the other, and knowing that was a good sign that their lungs were working. The nurse came over and told us that we weren't going to believe this, but somehow the boys were all born in the exact same minute (wowza?!). About a minute after that, the nurse came over and said Baby A doesn’t need to go to the NICU. He is breathing good, his color is good, and his heartbeat is strong, so he can go back to the room with you. A minute after that she said that Baby B also looked great and wouldn’t be going to the NICU either. A minute after that she said that they were all amazed because Baby C didn’t need to go to the NICU either. She then said the NICU doctor couldn’t believe the boys were only 35 weeks gestation because they looked so very healthy. There were over 20 people in the room when the boys were born, and 16 (a doctor and 5 nurses for each baby) went back to the NICU without babies because daddy got to push them to the regular nursery himself without the assistance of anything (no oxygen, breathing machines, or tubes of any kind). It was truly miraculous!

The day leading up to this miraculous event was long. My C-section was scheduled for 2:30 p.m. The doctor wanted to do it in the afternoon when the OR would be less crowded and there would be plenty of hands on deck. We slept in as long as possible (we knew we needed to stock up on sleep and I knew I wanted to minimize the length of time I had to be awake without eating at 35 weeks pregnant). We got to the hospital at 10:50 (10 minutes earlier than we were scheduled to arrive) and were put into a room. Our family immediately started to arrive to wait for the boys’ debut.

I told myself that with a procedure set for the afternoon there were bound to be delays, so I figured the boys would be born around 4. Of course I was right and there were your typical delays. When we got settled in, they said that my doctor was doing a hysterectomy and had another birth scheduled before me, but would be in soon to say hey. Around 4 when I saw my doctor and said she was getting ready for the birth of our little guys, we immediately got bumped for an emergency twins delivery. At Greenville Memorial, they only have one OR with two incubators. They were going to put us in that room with a portable incubator in the hallway. Since the emergency delivery needed that room too, we had to wait. At this point, I was so tired and hungry and nervous and scared and ready to meet my babies, but I wasn’t in painful labor and I wasn’t in an emergency situation, so who can complain? A tired, hungry, pregnant (with triplets) woman can. That’s who. Also, my doctor could complain. A lot. She was mad that we got bumped and mad that the doctors who took the room from us took so long to assemble and deliver (clearly, she is speedy since she delivered three babies in one minute). She complained to everyone who would listen and also called upstairs to make sure the corner (big) room was reserved for us. All I could think when she mentioned the big room is how lonely it would feel with our babies in the NICU, but as it turns out we needed every inch of that big room.

When it was finally time to prep me for surgery, I really started to get nervous. I have had abdominal surgeries (appendectomy in 2008 and a liver biopsy in 2005) before, and I know how painful recovery can be, so the thought of having a huge hole cut in my abdomen and have over 10 pounds of baby pulled out while conscious was a lot scary.  For some reason (and I am sure it is a very good one, I just don’t know what it is, probably sterility), your husband can’t be with you in the OR when they give you the epidural. So you get to be wheeled back to the OR scared and alone. Thankfully, the nurse warned us both that this would probably take about 20 minutes so that took the edge off a little bit because it actually took about FOREVER minutes and the whole time I just felt like they would rip the babies out without him there, especially as dozens of people filed in the room and I was strapped to a table. Remember I was a tired, hungry, and irrational pregnant woman, but the look on Jay's face when he got back there to me told me he felt the same way too.

Those of you who’ve worked in or spent time in hospitals know that 12 hour shifts usually end at 7, so there was a lot of anticipation for the boys to arrive as new nurses and staff were arriving and the people who had been taking care of us all day were getting ready to leave. My doctor, in her anger and advocacy for her patient kept saying “shift-change triplets. I can’t believe we are having shift-change triplets.” As I mentioned, there were over 20 people in the room and while the team for the boys left after we found out they didn’t need to go to the NICU (yay!). The team there for me transitioned, so that one set of nurses and nurse anesthetists prepped and delivered me another set was there to stich me up and take me to recovery. Of course it all worked out fine, just not the ideal way to deliver triplets.

Absolutely none of these things mattered the minute we found out our boys were here and healthy. Throughout my pregnancy I had prepared myself for the fact that the boys may have to immediately have any number of supports to keep them alive, many of which could have prevented me from "meeting" them before they were taken to the NICU. Since the boys were so strong, I got to meet each one. We never stopped to take pictures of this because Jay and I were both in such disbelief and stupid happy. Time literally stood still as we met each one, and immediately I realized how it was possible to love them each so much and so differently all at the same time. We told the nurses that Baby A was Archer, Baby B was Andrew, and Baby C was Alden. Information that they quickly wrote on their tiny little baby hats so everyone would know who was who.

Meanwhile…during the birth one of the nurses went out to the waiting room to alert all our visitors that the boys were about to make their debut. She told everyone to line up in the hall and then they could see them on their way to the NICU. Baba, Steve-O, Grandpa, Grandma, GG, Papa, Paula, Matt, David, and Morgan were all there and waiting. Once we got the great news about the boys. The nurse went out and said something like, “I’m sorry. I was wrong the boys aren’t going to the NICU but you can still see them on their way to the regular nursery.” Well, once everyone got over the initial terror that her first words were “I’m sorry,” they were elated.  Jay got to wheel the boys out in a bassinet for all to see. On our wedding video, Jay does this endearing thing where he shakes his head a few times to try and strop himself from crying. I am told he did a similar motion as he wheeled out our healthy boys.

Back in the OR, as I lay on the operating table, in a complete fog of happiness, in amazement at how blessed I was to have three perfect miracles – happy and healthy, I hear the doctor say (TMI alert), “get me a tweezer. We have an ingrown hair here.” Apparently, this was impeding successful stitching. In the midst of my seemingly out-of-body, blissful experience, I was confused that this woman was talking about me or that I even had a body at all.  This snapped be back into reality, and I thought to myself, this is motherhood – sublime happiness mixed with a whole lot of messiness.  There was work to be done, but we wouldn’t mind it one bit.