Our Hospital Story

Imagine our surprise that we had three healthy babies to take back to the room with us! All three breathing on their own, maintaining their own body temperature on their own, and (later) even eating on their own. 

After the boys were weighed, degunked, and vital checked, they were returned to me in surgery recovery by their beaming father and two (also beaming) nurses.  There began the urban legends about how long it had been since triplets were born and did not have to go to the NICU. We heard everything from “three years” to “ten years” to “never before in this hospital.” Either way, we were pretty stoked. Our family, who had been warned that it may be days before they could actually hold the babies, flooded in to see the boys.  Even though there were three of them, there just weren’t enough babies to go around since so many people were there to love on them.

Our family unloaded our car and then left for the night (it was dinner time after all). Jay and I just kind of looked at one another in stunned stillness and grinned. We had never dreamed we would get to experience this time with them so soon because although we had progressed fairly far in the pregnancy, we had tried not to get our hopes up. To say we were utterly shocked is an understatement (I mean, full disclosure here, I hadn’t even paid attention to all the talk about meconium and child care in the first few days and hours in child birth class because I assumed the NICU nurses would take care of that for me).

It is a very strange feeling to instantly have three little humans to care for when you previously had none. It is also very strange to have the new responsibility when you have no feeling in the lower half of your body, are peeing into a tube, and are taking lots of pain medicine.  I mean seriously, how are you supposed to care for three humans when you have no idea what you are doing AND you just had surgery? Yet there we were. 

After we were moved to a room, the nurse came in to check their vitals and tell us she was going to need us to start feeding them.  Newborns can go 24 hours before eating, so usually letting them suckle on your breast before your milk comes in is good practice for you and comforting to them.  She told us that our babies, however, were tiny and needed to eat right away.  Both Archer and Alden could latch on my breast.  I began pumping immediately and was getting like two drops of colostrum, but sadly that wasn’t enough to feed three babies and the latching and sucking was hard work for them.  She brought in little syringes with tubes attached (kind of like what they sometimes hook up to your IV to add additional medicine) except these little tubes had openings on the side. We were supposed to put these up against our finger, put our finger into the babies mouths, and slowly push in formula while coaxing them to suck by tickling their cheek or under their chin.  Sounds easy, huh? X3 and with no feeling in your legs. Well, it’s not. It is also incredibly scary to know they need to eat and yet they don’t yet know how.  It is also incredibly scary to worry about what they are ingesting.  During my whole pregnancy, I worried so much about not making enough breastmilk. I did a lot of research, bought supplements and oils to both induce and keep up my supply. I even researched milk banks and how to make your own formula (from goats milk) because my nutritionist told me that it was better than traditional formula. Well all that nonsense goes straight out of your mind when the nurse tells you your babies have to eat and they have to eat now.  You pop open that bottle of ready made Similac (that you had been told your whole pregnancy was the devil) and you do everything you can to coax those tiny humans to drink. Jay was a wiz at this. Mainly, because he is patient and I am not, but I would also like to reference my aforementioned state of temporary paralysis and stonedness. The reason you give the babies your finger and this tubing rather than a bottle is to prevent nipple confusion. It gives them sustenance without giving them a bottle which could later cause problems for breastfeeding, so I was pleased that even though I had to make the concession to give them formula we were still doing everything we could to help them breastfeed later.  Right? No, the first thing that happened on Saturday morning was the lactation nurse came in. Great. She will help us get this figured out in no time. Wrong again. She was no nonsense, which I do appreciate in a nurse, and basically said something to the effect of, “Finger feeding is a temporary fix to what, for your babies, will be a long term problem. It will be weeks, months, or maybe never before you are able to breastfeed exclusively or tandem feed.  These babies are going to have to learn to take a bottle too, so there is no point in killing ourselves with this finger feeding business.” It had only taken me one night of attempting this to agree with her, so we popped nipples on those ready-feed Similac bottles (best things ever) and plopped them in their little mouths. Hallelujah! Looking back, I sometimes wonder if I should have fought harder to try and breastfeed them or hold off on bottles a little longer, but then when Andrew had so many feeding problems as it was, I think it was all for the best. I mean when the lactation nurse tells you not to breastfeed, you kind of feel like you should listen. Well she didn’t exactly tell me not to breastfeed, our plan was to have one baby start each feeding on the breast (sometimes two – one on each breast) and then give them the bottle.  This way they got to practice and maybe get a little colostrum, but not wear themselves out since the bottle is so much easier for them. Then I would pump. This is so easy, takes no time, and was repeated 8+ times a day J. During these first couple of days, I never wanted to leave the hospital. Why would we go home where there were no nurses or lactation nurses on hand to help with feedings? So this was our normal (I’ll tell you about the irregular stuff later).

First, more about that first night. We had an amazing nurse, Amanda. She was so supportive and reassuring. She included us in everything she could. She did as many of their vital checks and tests in the room so they never had to leave us (she was sensitive to us being a little “gunshy” about having them taken away). She even gave them their first sponge bath in the room for us to watch and explained it all to us and how to do it at home until their cord fell off. I later found out that this nurse struggled with infertility and even did a round of IVF shortly after the boys were born. This just breaks my heart because she was one of the most nurturing and yet firm people I have ever met, a born mother.

A few more post c-section details that people may or may not have told you. Once you regain feeling in the lower half of your body, you will think you are dying (or at least I did). It didn’t help that this happened to me in the wee hours of the morning (since my surgery was so late in the day) after waking up to feed/pump ever three hours and listening intently between feedings because you are just convinced that one of these little babies will stop breathing at any second. So in the middle of a brief period of rest, I awoke to intense pain as I regained feeling. Now, I understand that they don’t want a bunch of high mommies walking around trying to learn to care for their babies, but they really could have been a little more liberal with the pain meds. I don’t consider myself a wimp, so I like to think that my body was a little more in shock since I had just had three babies instead of one, but either way, I needed more meds.  If you have this same feeling, ask for a heating pad. They gave me one that barely got hot, but it was better than nothing. Also, watch the clock and ask for your medicine on schedule. Do not let yourself actually feel the real pain before you ask for meds. My nurse, Kylie, who later became our night nurse (more on her later), told me this and it was great advice. Also, people don’t tell you that when feeling is restored and you get up to pee for the first time, it will not be clear or yellow. It will be blood red and you will think you are dying, which will make complete sense since that is how you feel. Also, wear the panties they give you. When they get dirty, take them home and wash them to wear gain, and ask for more. You will bleed for weeks and there is no sense in ruining all your underwear. Plus, the mesh ones they give you are super comfortable.

Saturday morning, our family returned. Baba, Steve-O, Grandma, Grandpa, GG, Papa, Paula, David, Morgan, Matt, Amanda, and John Bryan all came by. They helped us feed and love on the babies.  We had room for everyone and still had privacy thanks to our extra large room (which was really a regular hospital room with a living room attached - a living room with a TV, couch, love seat, table and four chairs). It is so special to see your family loving on and admiring the little humans you’ve created. It is really an indescribable feeling. John Bryan said he was going to tell Will that he would like his cousins a lot, even though they didn’t do anything yet. Steve-O just kept saying they were cool, which they are.

We were so completely in love and so amazed at how different the boys looked and acted from day one. They ate differently, cried differently, and made different little noises. It was fun to watch everyone else’s astonishment at their uniqueness and individuality too. Newborns, preemies especially, are grunty little creatures. We would sit there in the quiet and just listen to their little noises and admire all their tiny appendages.

 Andrew and Alden during a rare instance when they were unswaddled.

With newborns, there are three things they are monitoring for (or at least three things they were concerned about for us). Body temperature, blood sugar (which goes hand in hand with temperature), and jaundice.  Archer and Andrew kept having temp drops, so they had to regular check their blood sugar by pricking their little heels. It is pretty pitiful to see them try to squeeze enough blood for the test out of their tiny little foot.  Andrew and Alden kept having elevated bilirubin levels in their blood, so they were checking for that twice a day. 

Andrew didn't seem to mind the NICU as much as we did.

As they day wore on, the boys seemed to be eating less, so when our amazing pediatrician, Dr. Nelson, came by she told us that maybe the boys could use a little less loving (aka too much stimulation) and a little more rest time in their bassinets.  Despite their rest, the boys still weren’t eating that great, Andrew especially.  We waited for one more blood sugar test, and when Andrew’s was still too low, they had to take him to the NICU. I had mixed feelings about this.  Of course, I didn’t want him to have to go, but if that is where he needed to be, I was glad he would be getting the best care possible.

Archer and Alden snuggling and missing their brother

Having the boys in two places was tough. After we would do the feeding (and pumping) song and dance with Archer and Alden, one or both of us would try to rush down to see Andrew.  We would try to go when he was being fed, so we could see him awake, but often when we got down there he had eaten early or was just content to sleep under his heat lamp (they kept his clothes off most of the time because of his IV and monitors, which made his tiny little body look even more fragile).  The NICU was interesting because here was this phenomenon we envisioned for so long, thought we had skipped over, and yet here we were.  The nurses were all said they had been expecting us on Friday night. They had even vacated a corner of the NICU with three beds, so the boys could be close together. Thankfully, we didn’t need that, but they put Andrew in the bed that had been reserved for “Baby B” the day before all the same. The plan of action was to give Andrew sugar water in his IV to boost his blood sugar to wake him up a little and make him want to eat. Then, once eating, they would begin tapering the sugar water concentration and eventually remove his IV.

Skin to skin in the NICU

Let me just say that I don’t know how all you long-term NICU mommas and daddies do it. Andrew was only there for 36ish hours and it was killer. I really don’t know how you moms of multiples do it when you have one tiny baby at home and one (or more) still in the NICU. I felt torn from each baby every time I wasn’t with them. I think God knows what we can all handle, and this was just not something I was cut out for.

Meanwhile, I was also having to be taken care of (I usually had to be wheeled to the NICU because it was such a long walk from our room).  Our kind nurse Amanda kept Archer and Alden in the nursery (our hospital is traditionally room-in only) for a few feedings on Saturday and Sunday night so we could get a little uninterrupted sleep.

Alden in his tanning bed

Sunday was by far our worst day. Andrew was still in the NICU, making progress one feeding and then barely eating the next. Alden kept having elevated bilirubin levels, so starting Saturday night, he had to spend 24 hours in a little tanning bed. He had to lay there in just a diaper with little soft sunglasses over his eyes. It was so pitiful. This is when I broke out the pacifiers – we all needed a little comforting.  I remember sitting with my knees in a chair with my head on the table next to his little contraption, and my arms inside trying to hold his hand or keep his arms at his side so he could sleep without startling himself. This made us feel like the boys were now in three different places. Andrew in the NICU, Alden in our hospital “living room” in his tanning bed, and Archer in his bassinet by my bed. This was especially hard on Jay because in addition to all of this, he had me to worry about. We were thankful to have our family around during all of this, but also just wanted to close the door and cry. We had a little distraction on Sunday, as Antonis came by and brought us gifts and lunch from the Greek Orthodox Church.

Reunited and it feels so good

On Monday morning, when we went to see Andrew, the doctor was there and said he didn’t see any reason why Andrew needed to be in the NICU anymore. His IV was out, his blood sugar was stable, and he was eating.  We were elated to have the boys reunited (Alden was out of the tanning bed too).

Proud Dad

We were in a unique predicament. We were nearing the time for me to discharged, typical hospital time for C-section is three days. My doctor ordered an extra day, but on Tuesday, I was discharged and the boys were still in the hospital. This sort of put us in no-mans land. There was no real reason for us to be on the maternity floor (a “clean” floor) anymore, but they didn’t want to move us down to the children’s floor because of the risk of all the things to which they could be exposed, especially since they were born in the midst of RSV and flu season.  Thankfully, the maternity floor wasn’t full, so we were able to keep our room and we “roomed in” with the boys. This was a little nerve racking because we weren’t sure how long we would be there for continued monitoring and how long a room would still be available to us. Our pediatrician was hesitant to let us leave until she was confident they were strong enough to go and weren’t likely to take a turn for the worse because if we had to come back, it would be on the children’s floor (or the Pediatric ICU) with the risk of all that exposure.  Thankfully, once we were discharged, we didn’t have to come back – that is until six weeks later when the boys got RSV at the urologist’s office for their circumcision and Archer had to come back for 5 days (two in the PICU) and Andrew had to come back for a day.

Eventually everyone (except Baba) traveled back to Birmingham, Ft. Walton, Louisville, & Knoxville. While we were waiting and watching the boys closely, we started to get into a little routine at the hospital. The boys were eating on a really good schedule every three hours. My milk came in and I started getting the hang of pumping while letting them nurse a little.  Jay watched the nurses closely and became a wiz a swaddling, which is very important to keep those babies sleeping and bundled up to better control their temps.  Baba and I had a fun little photo shoot with the boys while Dad was at work.  Meanwhile, the boys took and passed their hearing screening and car seat test.  Our nurse Kylie took good care of us, and even made plans to come help us a few nights after we got home.  This made me feel a little better about the thought of having to leave the hospital, which was still terrifying.

On Tuesday night, our last hurdle before going home, which had nothing to do with the health of anyone, was about how exactly we were going to get them home. The week before the boys were born, we thought had our car seats ready to go, but when we took them to the fire station for inspection, we realized that although the car seats “fit” they did not fit safely.  Dad was insistent that we needed to get everyone home in one vehicle (so he could drive 15 mph and not get on the interstate), so we began trying to figure out how to rent a minivan to take us home and looked forward (said sarcastically) to spending our first sleep-deprived moments away from the boys van shopping.

On Wednesday afternoon, with a rented van, and car seats checked by hospital security, Mom, Dad, Baba, four hospital staff, three carts, and three babies, all rolled out into the cold January air. We were elated, and also terrified but mostly elated, to all be going home together so soon after the boys were born. I remember the sense of pride I felt walking into the hospital on their birthday, and it doesn't compare to the sense of pride i felt walking out with my little family.

The moral of this story, our hospital story, is that as hard as you try you’ll never be completely ready, most of the things you worry about won’t come true and all the others won’t matter, and it will all be one big, scary, amazing, breathtaking, earth-shattering blur (so write it all down before, or shortly after, your babies’ first birthday).  It all seems simultaneously just like yesterday and yet a hundred years ago.  We are so unbelievably blessed.