A Hugging Confession

I am not a hugger.

I believe this is one reason why I am somewhat addicted to blogging and can easily pour my heart out with every tippity-tap of a key.

I can handle a virtual hug.

I can vent about the ugliness of grief or the insanity of day-to-day life and take in each and every comment I receive of support, or of I've been there, or geez am I glad I'm not there, and feel completely comfortable accepting as many comment hugs as are dished out from the caring people who read my words.

But a real hug?  I believe, to quote my mother, I am like "hugging a piece of plywood."  Makes you feel all warm and fuzzy doesn't it??

Let me digress here to stop you from feeling sorry for my touch-deprived children and husband.  I hug them, I hug them all constantly and accept their hugs with open arms.  I can do this with ease.  Go ahead and psychoanalyze.  If you figure out why please let me know (private email is preferred to a public comment explaining my warped psychological state to the blogosphere).

I believe I cannot hug because I have wound myself a bit too tight.  I am clutching pieces finely crafted into staying together.  One of those pieces fears that if I fall into a hug, the rest of them may come tumbling down and we just can't have that happen.  There is too much to do, plus I have a tendency towards the "ugly cry."

So yesterday we went to our first day of three year-old storytime and I believe the mix of a class brimming with little girls, explaining they are not twins too many times and a touch of pms, caused me to be acutely aware of that ever-present hole.  Sitting there, singing the pizza song, I pictured being the triplet mom I should be and my world stopped.   My boys, being the Mommy-loving little people that every mom with a son told me they would be, instinctively came to my rescue.  Sawyer into my lap, chubby baby arms circling my neck, and Parker balancing on my knee, skinny elbows folding over my shoulder, and those little boy hugs?

They sent my pieces crumbling.

Without a single word, swimming in a sea of three year-olds shouting out their favorite pizza topping, my boys told me what all those well-meaning huggers have been trying to say for years.

You are safe.  You are surrounded by love.  Let the pieces fall.

And I did.

A New Dating Service?

I'm thinking of starting a dating service.

A playdating service...

somewhere you can put in where life has taken you, your parenting style, what Mommy traits drive you insane and what put you at ease.

a place to cut all the crap and make finding a mom who you get along with, and has nice kids to boot, a much easier process.

Since having kids I always had this vision of perfect playdates, coffee with moms while our children play peacefully, swapping recipes and clothes our kids have outgrown... the quintessential life of a stay at home mom.

Autism and preemies and loss and then getting pregnant again before my preemies could even venture out in public threw a bit of a wrench in my plan and it seems I have just joined the land of the living this past year.

And finding a mommy AND kid match is hard.  The mom can be great and then low and behold my son's on his back after a cheap shot from her never disciplined, candy-eating-in-the-morning, terror of a boy.

Or the kids can be off to a good start, clicking in whatever way three year-olds can manage and then the mom says something genius, and telling.  Telling me that our conversations have no future.

And my playdate visions deflate.

But I am learning.  I am learning that I am not going to find the mirror image of my family out there but if I give it time our lives will gravitate to each other.  I will bump into another mom on the playground who is sweating as I am because she also has more little ones than arms and not one of them is coordinated enough for the tall slide.

Or I will find the perfect friend in someone who is balancing triplets and special needs and coping with her own feelings of loss of a different kind, who doesn't flinch when I talk about all of my children and we will click and could close just about any restaurant, spilling tales of our crazy lives and laughing about things that aren't funny when they're happening.

And that is the perfect in the imperfect.

That there is no match out there, whether you have 2 kids, a dog and not a struggle to be had or whether you have a bit of an unconventional brood and are forced to search for moms who have walked your path, there is no magic service to help you find the matching mom and kids of your dreams.  You have to find them, or they will find you.

My friends from around the country, each with surviving triplets.

And when you do?  You will be rewarded.  With conversations long enough to drive a wait staff insane or kill a phone battery, with recipes they found (without the dairy of course), with a chapter long comment on your blog to tell you they get it or a few short sentences to say they don't but they are here anyway.

Since all that has happened from the time I became a mom and all that has not, I have often felt like I am on another planet.

In fact I think I might be.

But having visitors makes my planet a pretty comfortable place to live.

Edited to add: If you happen to have had a child when you were a bit too young who was then diagnosed with autism, got married eight years after that only to struggle with infertility, get pregnant with triplets, lose a child and then get pregnant again without even trying EMAIL ME, we are destined for the perfect playdate :)

I'm Still Standing- Featured Blogger

I was so happy when I received an email from an amazing friend, allowing me to feature her here and share her story.  I should not have been surprised though.  She knew that her story may help others, inspire them to keep going and give them a reason to get out of bed each day, and for that, she wanted to share.  To say that she is strong and has handled herself with grace through all that she has endured is an understatement.

Cathi was pregnant with triplets not long after I was and, as she began to experience serious complications, I hovered over my computer waiting for each and every update, hoping for good news.  Sadly Raiden, the first of her triplets, was stillborn at 22 weeks gestation.  Cathi and her surviving babies held on for four more weeks and at 26 weeks gestation, her daughter Gwyn and son Ryker were born.  I was devastated to follow Cathi's journey as she then lost Ryker when he was 10 days old and Gwyn when she was 18 days old.  Still reeling over the loss of my own daughter, I remember hearing of the passing of each of her children and thinking that losing three babies was unfathomable.  The more I grasped for the words to support Cathi, the more I became inspired by the strength with which she carried herself through one devastating loss after another.

Cathi and her husband had several frozen embryos left after their IVF cycle with the triplets so she gathered her courage and decided to try once again.  After a successful frozen embryo transfer and another very high risk pregnancy, Cathi now has a beautiful one year-old little girl, Megyn.  Honestly, I don't know where Cathi finds the strength and courage to face life with the brave face that she does but I know that all of us who have been touched by her story are better for what we have learned from her bravery.

I admire Cathi more than words can express and know that there are days that I am still standing because of the inspiration I get from women like her.

So meet Cathi, survivor of the infertility struggle, mom to four babies, three of whom she carries in her heart, and STILL STANDING.

Cathi's post about her family:  Years Fly By
(if you have a minute you have to look around her blog, the professional photographs she has of Megyn are breathtaking)

My favorite post from Cathi... so sad but her strength shines through:  2 Years

Read here about how you can get featured too.

So I Lied

I managed to leave the house to run errands the other day with only one child in tow.

Having brought the quietest, least apt to cause trouble and least likely to become bored to tears with my shopping, I was very productive which resulted in a few minutes too long at the register with a chatty cashier.

Here is how it all went downhill...


"Oh he is so sweet, how old?"

Thanks, he's eighteen months.

"Awww, is he your first?"

No, actually he is my fifth.

"Your fifth, wow, how old are your other children?" (I'm screwed at this point)

Fifteen and three 

(Looking at me like I have two heads) "So do you have two sets of twins?"

No I have a teenager and triplets (technically not lying yet)

"Wow, triplets???  That is amazing what do you have boys? Girls?  Who are they with while you shop?"

A boy and two girls, they're with my husband. (sort of not lying)

"What a brave guy managing all those little ones, I'm sure he is having fun."

Yep.  (the truth)

"Oh I bet your girls are adorable together, do they gang up on their brother, making him play dolls and dress up?"

Yep.  (aaaaaand off we go, I'm lying)

"How sweet.  (turns to the other cashier) She has three year-old triplets, can you believe it?  Her husband is home with all of them.  My husband would never survive!"

Yep, he's great.

(shoppers in each line are now talking about my amazing triplets as I envision crawling out of my skin)

"Oh you are just so lucky, what a great family.  You will have so much fun this year with all those little ones.  I can't imagine!  Merry Christmas"

(Zero eye contact, plastered fake smile) Merry Christmas

And I picked up my purchases, my baby and my big fat lie and left.


I'm sure somewhere in there I should have stopped the train wreck and explained that I only have two triplets.
That one of them did not make it to age three.  Or to two.  Or even to one.

I thought it might feel good to live the lie for a few minutes or at least be easier than telling our whole story.

I guess it only feels good if it's the truth and it is only easier if your story includes five children who are alive.

Home

Home is a name,

a word,

it is a strong one;

stronger than magician ever spoke,

or spirit ever answered to,

in the strongest conjuration.  

                               ---Charles Dickens

After 77 days of waiting for home, Daddy brought you through the door three years ago today.

Happy Coming Home Day, my little man.

The After

After being born weighing 2 lbs. 10 oz,

after two cerebral hemorrhages,

after weeks on a ventilator,

after transfusions and procedures and tests and the endless beep, beep, beep of monitors,

after 71 long days in the NICU...

my little Baby A came home, three years ago today.

Amid all the chaos of life as it stands, there is not a day that goes by that I do not shudder at the thought of Before,

blink in amazement that we made it to After

and count myself lucky that we have a "Coming Home Day" to celebrate at all.

P.S. Could there be a better shirt??

The One with the Hole

Tonight was our annual candy making with the girls (and the boy who could not be left out of a sugar-filled event).

We all made our way out in the first of this year's winter storms to spend hours using up the mountains of baking supplies overflowing the kitchen.

My little ones in attendance were strategically placed in the cookie decorating section which was secured with a washable surface, easy to clean chairs and a large tarp over the floor.

My aunts have all done this whole toddler thing before.

The afternoon was warm with tradition and laughter and it was not lost on me that I am lucky to be surrounded by so many amazing women.

(the two down front with no self control in front of sugar belong to me)

Unfortunately, the sameness of tradition seems to be dragging me down this year.  I am fighting off the nagging heartache of one child missing and the reality that life will continue on this way, one tradition after another, rich in bittersweet moments.

Santa sitting on their lap as they try to get on his good side one more time.

At one point in the afternoon the kids were arranging candy dishes their own fancy three year-old way and my eyes found the spot where their sister would have sat, as they always do.  

Parker turned to me, beaming over their creation,

     Look Mommy, there is a heart with a big hole in the middle.

I kissed him on his blonde little head and replied, 

     Yep Parker, there is.

No one told me this either

We are moving.

Moving day is one day away and if you walked into our house right now you would never know we are going anywhere.

I have found another aspect of losing a baby that know one told me about.

Packing is paralyzing.

Every time I open a closet or drawer I stumble upon one more Hadley thing and I don't know what to do with it so I stop and try to start again somewhere else.

A year or so after we lost her I was able to fumble through her NICU items and fold up her unworn pink.  I put everything in a pretty box and put it up in our closet.  I cannot look in there often but I never forget it is there.

What I forgot about was the hidden pieces of grief.

I forgot about the social security card under my socks that had the audacity of showing up in our mailbox with the others and the "you can make it a little longer" note written by a dear friend of my mom's while I was still pregnant, hiding under my sweaters, holding beautiful thoughts of all I would look forward to in my life with triplets, and the cards and vases and dried flowers from her memorial, all more than I could bare to look at on a daily basis.

I had even forgotten about the bracelet.

When you have a baby in the NICU you get a hospital bracelet to wear that matches theirs.  You wear it until your baby comes home to identify you as the parent.

Mark and I had three.  As each baby was born we looked at each other and laughed in amazement as the nurses put on one after the other after the other.  We were in awe of our arms full.

After a few days of wear we each needed one less but I never took mine off.  I wore it until the ink started to fade and then carefully removed it because I was afraid to lose one more detail of her life.

While packing up my drawers today it slipped right into my hand along with grief too heavy to carry and I was useless once again.

I don't know how to pack up my daughter and the life she never had.  I don't know what to do with the memories collected on her shelf or her ashes or the clothes she did not wear.  A cardboard box falls entirely short.

I'm not sad to leave this house because all of the important things are coming with me.

I'm sad to do one more thing without her,
to go one more place without my whole family,
to keep on going with pain that is easier to put in a drawer than to face.

There is no guidebook for living after losing a baby, no section on how to pack your child's ashes, so I am learning I have to write my own...

And as this chapter begins I have decided what to write.

I will bring her to her new home just as I brought her to her first.

I will carry her.

Blog Hop

This is my first week participating in the Special Needs blog hop.  Each week a question or task is posted and this week's is:

Introduce yourself and your blog to us
So here it goes... my name is Jessica and I am a wife and mom to 5.  My oldest daughter Ashlyn is 15 and has autism and then I have triplets who were born at 28 weeks.  Our daughter Hadley passed away when she was two days old and my surviving triplets Parker and McKenna have done very well despite their prematurity.  McKenna has some remaining health issues but nothing we cannot handle after the emotional roller coaster of the NICU.  After the triplets we had a little surprise, Sawyer, who is now 16 months old.  Needless to say we are a busy household and blogging has become one of my few outlets.

I try to blog honestly about life after the loss of my daughter, the ups and downs of autism and the general chaos of life as a completely outnumbered stay-at-home mom.

Thanks for stopping by!

A pink and blue birthday

We are 3!

Baby A- McKenna 2 lb. 10 oz.

Baby B- Parker 1lb. 14 oz.

Baby C- Hadley 2 lbs. 5 oz.

McKenna 1 year old

Parker 1 year old

McKenna 2 years old

Parker 2 years old

My 3 year old beautiful girl

My handsome 3 year old little man

What an amazing three years. You have brought more love to your mommy and daddy than you will ever know.  

As we put you to bed last night, on the eve of your third birthday I heard this as I shut the bedroom door...

Good night McKenna

Good night Parker

Happy Birthday McKenna

Happy Birthday Parker

Your birthday is October 9th McKenna, 

I will bake you a cake.

The only thing sweeter would have been one more little voice echoing the same.

Happy 3rd Birthday my sweet babies

Send me a rainbow

Next week it will be three years since we lost Hadley.

I still struggle to "see" her somewhere.

She was so tiny and her life was so short that I do not have a laundry list of things to stumble upon through my days that will remind me of her.
I can only guess what would make her smile, what color she would insist on wearing or what food she would want to eat at every meal.
There isn't a song she loved that I can listen to or a favorite toy that I can trip over when her siblings leave it out.
So as I finish planning what should be her third birthday party I have found myself sifting through the small box of things that were lucky enough to be against her skin.
And know I am in need of a rainbow.

Rainbows have always been Hadley to me.

She has sent them to me on the darkest of days.

When I see one I think of Hadley and all of the other babies of the many loss mommies I have met, happy together, sending a little color to remind us that they are somewhere beautiful and we are okay.

So as Hadley's day draws near I need one but there is no rain in sight.  I love finding them on my own and will take one any way I can get it (in the sky, a reflection off of a glass, in a bubble, I even bought an umbrella with rainbow stripes).

So I have a little request... if you have a rainbow or see one soon, could you send a picture to me?  I'm not sure what I am going to do with them yet but know that I want as many as I can get.

You can email me your pictures to jessb_27@hotmail.com

Thank you

My little blog

... has just gotten its first award, given by Pam over at Pieces of Me.  Pam has a beautiful blog and is an amazing photographer so I was honored that she chose me.

In order to accept this award I have to do two things and before I start, let me just warn everyone that I am less than one month from the triplets birthday and the anniversary of all that happened after their birth so from here until, oh mid October, I may be a bit on the deep/emotional side.

With that said I am supposed to answer this...

1. If you had a chance to go back and change one thing in your life, would you and what would it be?

I think that every loss mom gets a serious case of the "what ifs" after they lose a child.  My "what if" has always been:
What if I had questioned the doctor more on his decision to deliver the triplets so early?

The day of my delivery my least favorite physician was on.  I had made it through a million different labor scares during my long hospital stay but this time the OB on that day decided I needed to deliver.  I did not question him, it all happened so fast and at almost 29 weeks we knew our babies would be in the NICU but never thought they would not all survive.  I started getting excited instead of grilling him over why this time was different than all of the others.

I wish I would have questioned him more, demanded that we wait until my physicians could get there, done something so that I would have a little bit more piece of mind about my delivery or maybe have even stayed pregnant a few more days, a few more days that would have made my babies stronger and gave them all a better chance at life. 

But, of course, I will never know and for my own sanity have had to press pass the "what ifs" and try to make peace with my delivery, knowing that we followed what we thought was best at the time and what happened afterwards was far beyond our control.

The second stipulation of my award is much more fun and much less deep...



2.  Pass this award on to 6 other bloggers that you love.


So my awards go to...


Sarah at Loving My Life- I just recently starting following Sarah and, besides being extremely well done, her blog contains a mix of amazing photographs and great stories about her boys.

The Grasshoppa-   She is just hilarious, there is not much more to say.


Courtney at The Peeks- Courtney has overcome the devastating loss of three children and openly blogs about her journey through infertility.  I'm addicted to checking her blog until she has a baby in her arms.


Liz from The Weaver Triplets- Liz is an amazing mom to triplets, two who have autism.  She honestly blogs about the good days and the bad and has become an incredible friend.


Devon at Life As We Know It- I just recently started following Devon and I have blog envy.  I love the way her blog is organized and all of her beautiful pictures AND she has a great blog button (My next blog task is to figure out how to make one of those).


Amy from Life Interrupted- Amy also lost a triplet and has been such a support to me.  Her blog is open, honest and I'm either laughing or crying every time I read.

Thanks again for the award Pam, it is an honor to be selected by such a great blogger!

Last weekend

I cannot believe it has taken me so long to blog about last weekend.

There is an amazing group of moms who have found each other online over the last three years who have lost one, two or all of their triplets.

We all struggle with the same issues:

Am I still a triplet mom?
How do I raise my survivors and still mourn the child(ren) I have lost?
Where in the world do I "fit"? 
What do I call them now?
How do I pick myself up and keep going?
What will I tell my survivors as they grow?

...you get the picture.

Anyway, these ladies are from all over the country and somehow we have found each other and have been pulling each other through the last few years.  Sometimes we sadly welcome a new member to the group and somehow, as we each move through our stages of grief, parenting and remembering our babies, we keep each other afloat.

So back to last weekend...

One of the ladies mentioned in the spring that she had a wedding near me so I was thrilled at the chance I may get to meet her in person.  Next another planned a trip to visit friends in the same area and another decided to fly in too.  I marked these days as sacred on our calendar and could not wait to meet them.

Soooooo, I spent last Sunday and Monday in the company of three amazing moms of surviving triplets and three sets of our surviving triplets.

Three moms who understand without any of us saying a word.

To say it was nice is an understatement but I'm try to control my over use of the word amazing.

I know the chance of being a triplet is rare (I don't feel like looking up the stats).
The chance of being a surviving triplets is that much more rare.
So the chances of all of these surviving triplets in one state at one time, in my very scientific calculation, must be at least one in a bazillion.

I love that our kids got to meet and I love that we are going to do this again and hope that more members of our "group that no one wants to have to join" will be able to travel to wherever our paths cross next.

Heather, with her survivors Zoi and Alex, Allison (her survivors Jack and Evan were home with Dad), Me with Parker, McKenna and Sawyer and Dana with her survivors Olivia and Jacob

(not pictured- Ari, Alex, Hadley and Benjamin, all smiling down on their Mommies and siblings)

If you are reading this and are the mom to triplets who may not all be here any longer contact me if you would like to be part of our online group.  I know I speak for everyone in saying we are sad that you need us but here for you if you do.

Everyone

We braved our first weekend away with the little ones and I'm here, not as sleep deprived as I thought I would be, to blog about it.  The kids had a great time and aside from the car ride there, okay, and the car ride home, things went incredibly smooth.  Oh and as an extra little thank you to the people who allowed us to use their cottage Mark spent part of our last day there tightening all of their cabinet fixtures, door knobs, window latches and towel racks.  Of course none of them were loose before we Parker got there.

The weekend was the first time in years that my entire extended family was together in one place.  It was so good to see everyone but bittersweet for me as so much of life is these days.  The last time we attended a family reunion I was happily pregnant with triplets and had found out we were having two girls and a boy.  We announced what we were having to the whole family and were greeted with lots of cheers and I think you should name one after me's.  It was a great time in our lives and returning to the same place reminds me of what different people we are now and how much life has changed.  We have five amazing children but one will never be at the famous family reunion, or go kayaking in the lake with her Daddy and uncles, or climb from bed to bed to bed with her siblings, talking her Mommy's ears off because sleeping in a cabin is just beyond exciting when you are two.

And hardest of all?  I will never hear "my whole family" with out feeling a twinge of pain because Hadley will always be missing and, for me, our family will never be whole.  Words like "everyone" and "all of us" carry so much more significance for me now because I long for the completeness they bring.

When I see the latest version of our huge family picture I will laugh with everyone else at the amazing feat of getting our crazy bunch in one shot but my eyes will find a spot where my little daughter should be standing and then the picture will blur with tears.  I will remind myself though, that she was there because I brought her.  

Her memory was packed carefully for the trip, right inside my heart.

Next to Hadley's tree that Nana and Papa planted at the cottage

One last visit

Today we went for our NICU follow up with the developmental clinic at the hospital where the triplets were born. The kids' growth and development are great and they were very impressed with how smart they are.  We have been officially discharged from their developmental clinic and it feels great to know that my little survivors beat the odds.

I, however, pratically had a nervous breakdown going to their appointment.  We have not been back to that hospital since their last developmental check up over a year ago and I have a complete love/hate relationship with the place. 

I hate it because it is the place where Hadley died. 
I love it because it is the place where Hadley lived. 

While we were there today I had visions of myself coming back there for years and years to come just to hang on to the only place where she ever lived outside of me.  We took the kids up to the NICU floor so they could peak in the window and someone opened the door and I was consumed by the NICU smell that surrounded us for so many weeks.

I want to go back again and go inside and just sit there and listen to the sounds and remember our time there but I also never want to go back again and hear any of it and remember the awful day our lives changed.  It is so conflicting to have the place where your children began their lives also be the place where one of your children never left.

I am reading the book "I Will Carry You" by Angie Smith, a woman who chose to carry her daughter to term despite being told that she would not survive to her birth, and I have to say I am not in the place where she is on her journey but I am trying to get there.  One thing she talks about over and over is being grateful for the time she did have with her daughter and not getting lost in the grief of her death.  I am trying so hard to do this.

I am so lucky to have had the experience of carrying triplets and am so lucky to have carried Hadley for 28 precious weeks and to have gotten the chance to meet her and hold her, even though the first time was also the last.

I remember the day after they were born being in the NICU with Mark and going from baby to baby to baby, getting updates from each of their nurses and feeling completely, happily overwhelmed by the fact that we had just had three babies at once.  We were giddy with the excitement of our new babies but didn't get to live in that moment very long.  I keep trying to hang onto that feeling because we were blessed with three babies and I want to have good memories of the place that brought them into the world.

So today, we made good memories there.  We took our little survivors up to the place they spent the first three months of their lives.  We talked about how far they had come to anyone in the hall who caught onto the fact that they had once called the place home, we visited my favorite nurse who took care of me during my 10 week stay before the babies came, we showed them incubators and just let them roam the place.

Today was a good day at the "baby hospital", as the kids called it, and I was so grateful to carry Hadley's memory with me as we walked out the door one last time.

Mark and the kids looking in the NICU window

The kids, on the other side of that window, two and half years ago

Ready to walk

There are only 4 days left until the March for Babies and I can't wait.  Last year I was pregnant with Sawyer and was put on bedrest the week before the walk so our huge team of family members walked without me.  To say I was disappointed to have to miss it was an understatement.  I think I cried the whole time they were gone (I'm sure pregnancy hormones played a roll in my blubbering).  Of course I was off my feet for a very good cause and managed to stay pregnant until 34 weeks which brings me to why we are walking.

I have had four preemies, one who never got the chance to come home.  Our family is walking for our preemies and our angel.  I can't wait to spend a day dedicated to Hadley.  I love every minute of the preparation for our walk because this is one of the few things I can still do for her.

When we walk on Sunday I will be thinking of all of those other loss moms out there I have met along this journey.  I know it will be emotional and I will be thinking of Hadley every minute but I also will cherish the fact that I have a stroller full of survivors to walk with me.

Our team is very close to our goal so please donate if you can...

Belonging

I think from the day we found out I was having triplets and I started researching what our new life would be like I had visions of toting three little ones around in the coveted Choo Choo Wagon.  Everyone with triplets has one, well at least everyone who bought one before they went out of production has one.  I could not wait to join the ranks of the gauked-at triplet mommies who had to use a Choo Choo.

Of course, my dreams of life and how we would live it raising three little people changed dramatically.  In the blink of an eye, two and a half years ago today, my future life as a triplet mommy, the one I had comfortably settled in to imagining, was gone.  Since we were blessed with our little surprise baby while our survivors where still babies themselves I was left oddly in search of some of the "triplety" items that I had once been so anxious to have and of course the Choo Choo was at the top of my list.

When I was pregnant with Sawyer I wondered how this would be, to need three of things again, things that screamed "I have triplets" because I don't.

But I do.

One of those little, no one told me about this, parts of being a loss mom is that you don't exactly fit anywhere.  You are not a mom to twins so the local multiples group may make you cringe and you are not a mom to three living, breathing triplets either so you do not have as much in common with all those triplet moms that you used to talk to either.  Which brings me to the purpose of this whole long post.

After we lost Hadley I fell off the triplet mom planet.  I stopped using the triplet resources I used to use, I stopped talking with the group of triplet moms who I kept in close touch with during our pregnancies.  I felt like I did not belong with them anymore and was, of course, envious of the life they had.

One by one, every triplet mom who I had met along our pregnancy journey contacted me again.  Everyone felt terrible about our loss and no one thought for a minute that I was not worthy of still being part of the triplet mommy world.  They pulled me back into the loop and have supported me over the last two and half years whether we are on the same journey or not.

One of them even searched out and found the choo choo for me.

In there own way, they have each reminded me that I am just as much a triplet mom as I was before we lost Hadley and have helped me to heal more than they know.

So when we headed out in our brand new ride this weekend did I think of Hadley and wish we needed a triple wagon a year or two ago?  Of course I did, but I was able to blink back the tears and know that my new little guy was in her seat, not taking her place but definitely right where he is supposed to be.

It is nice to belong

Another 11th

Today is the only day of the month that I do not have a current picture to post.

I wish I did. I wish this day was just like any other.

Today is the 11th, Hadley's day.

On this day, 28 months ago, I said good bye to my baby girl. And on this day every month I am painfully aware of the fact that I am that much further away from the last time I held her.

My arms ache to do it again.

I wish I could share a cute story about what she did today or could laugh about something she said or the trouble she got into with her brother and sister but all I can do is share a memory from the few days I was lucky enough to have her...

The triplets were born at 28 weeks so there was a small army in the delivery room awaiting their arrival. We were as prepared as we could be for the fact that our babies may be critical and we would only see them briefly before they were whisked away to the NICU.

Mark and I were so relieved as they delivered one baby after another and the room was filled with the tiny cries of our very tiny babies. The NICU teams assessed the babies and brought them passed me one by one on their way to intensive care. Hadley was baby C so she was the last. As the nurse brought Hadley by I put out my hand and her tiny fingers grabbed onto mine. She was the only one I was able to touch.

In the blur of my c-section, this is my clearest moment.

I ache for my little girl and miss her every minute. Since losing Hadley I have felt a physical hole in my chest, right were I carried her, all curled up with her brother and sister. I still feel that hole, some days much more than others, and have come to terms with the fact that it must be some right of passage for being a loss mom.

Living life with a piece of you missing.

And so another 11th has come and is almost gone. I struggle with feeling like we are somehow leaving Hadley behind but know, deep down, that we are not. She is here every day whether it be through the memory of her touch or that little empty space in my chest, we will always have her.