35. Home, calm before the trauma.
I was starting to feel like part of the furniture at the hospital. I was getting to know the staff and life was ticking by at 3 hour intervals.
All of the babies seemed to pick up the pace after Robin and Sam had their tubes fitted. It was like they all knew the score. Feed, keep it down, rest and gain weight. Not much to ask of preterm babies, surely!
On night 1 of the tubes, when I got up for the midnight feed, I looked at my beautiful, swaddled babies. Somehow, Sam had managed to get his tube out. His arms were swaddled so I have no idea how he had managed it. Lots of head rubbing on the mattress probably. It had clearly irritated him from the start, I just hoped they wouldn't be putting it back in again. Thankfully they didn't.
We had a handful of feeds where we topped Robin up as he was falling asleep. The advise was to not allow a feed to take more than 20 minutes. We would just cut the feed at 20 minutes and top him up. It massively took the pressure off. We extended the feeding time for other two a little if we needed to, but for some reason, they seemed to be sticking to the plan now.
My assumption had been that they would want 2 consecutive days of weight gain before we could go home. And James had been told that they would want a set amount of hours from the tube removal too. Each top up restarts the clock.
On Thursday morning, the midwives came in and said they are taking his tube out as he hadn't had a top up since the evening before. I could've kissed them. The poor little fella speed sneezed as the tube was coming out which was insanely cute and funny. I felt lighter. Not too long later, I had another visit from doctors who said we can go home!! I was nearly in tears and practically bounced down the corridor to wash my expressing kit. I told everyone I saw!
We packed and James took all of our stuff to the car. We had my suitcase, the babies bag, then all the bags of cards, snacks, flowers and presents that James had brought in to cheer me up.
He then brought in...... the tank. People were coming out of their rooms to have a look at the beast of a pram. It really is a head turner.
Before he arrived with the pram, a midwife came bursting into my room full of excitement. Her name is Jenny, and we had done a hypnobirthing course with her when we were pregnant with Jack. She had seen James in the corridor and couldn't believe our news. She was absolutely thrilled for us and it was great to see her again. I had wondered if we would see her during our stay. We also had lots of people pop in to say goodbye to us and the triplets.
Throughout the week, James had bought a few little gifts for people. Caroline and Justine got a bunch of flowers each, and lots of tins of biscuits were given to various places. He also found a card with a picture of a bunch of 4 bananas on it which he named Sally, Robin, Will and Sam.
Walking through the hospital to the van was hilarious. Lots of people did a double take, followed by a whoop of excitement. One guy jumped with glee when it twigged and we were both in stitches at his reaction. This was going to be fun!
Home
Being home, I felt instantly calm. We were given a little bottle of formula and teats for the feed as soon as we got home. So we got in, got them fed, and got them all swaddled in their cot together. I was on top of the moon!
I then got bottles together, washed and sterilised everything we were going to need for the night. Then we settled down for the night. James decided I would go to bed and he would do the first shift. I would sleep until 2.30 and he would do the 9 and 12 feeds, then I would be up at 2.30 for the later feeds. It worked well for me as I went to bed at about 8 and woke at 2. Aaaaaaah, bliss!!
When I went downstairs James was half awake on the sofa and told me he was on high alert, so hadn't managed to sleep. Poor guy. I sent him upstairs to try and get a few hours before Jack wakes up.
The following morning, James told me he that all the babies had woken at the same time so had called his mum for help at 9pm, then none of them really settled much after that feed. They put it down to the quiet and the dark in a new environment.
My shift had been easy. We have a twin feeding pillow, so I could prop 2 up on there and use a blanket to angle the bottles to their mouths, while I winded the third. I was able to mostly get 2 of them sorted before the 3rd woke up, so it was pretty much pain free. I heard Jack getting up so ran upstairs but James appeared too saying he still hadn't slept. I sent him back to bed and told Jack to come downstairs with me. James managed a couple of hours after that and I juggled the triplets feed, Jack's breakfast and mine. This was our new life now and I was embracing it and loving it. Me and my boys finding a rhythm.
The following day, James and Jack joined the big family Good Friday walk, and my godmother, Lindsay, came over to visit and help me with the triplet feeds. We had a visit from the midwives and all babies had gained weight again! Everything was fantastic!!
I did the early shift on the second night and all was fine again, except they were waking early for their feeds. We were on a new formula so I put it down to it not filling them up enough. We swapped back the following day as a trial.
James was struggling to get into the random sleeping hours but we were managing it and he will settle into it. It has taken me a long time to adjust to sleeping when I can, but the 12 nights in hospital started my training well.
On Sunday, James managed a bit of dozing during day time naps, but still didn't get a huge amount if sleep, but he was dealing with it OK. We had grandparents helping to entertain Jack and help out with feed times or putting Jack to bed. It felt like everything was working really well. We even went out for a walk as a family. The triplets in "the tank", with James pushing, and Lynda, James's mum with us to help with Jack, who would want to go ahead if and when we were stopped by people for a chat. It was lovely!
The worst night of our lives.
James did the early shift again on Sunday night. I hadn't felt great all day really. Nothing major. I put it down to a combination of healing, expressing, bleeding and broken sleep. My body is doing so much that would exhaust a fit and well slept person, so I am bound to have days of feeling sluggish and off colour. I was starting to feel hungry all the time too. Typical symptom of a breastfeeding mum. I'm still not breastfeeding much, but I'm expressing a lot. Probably only about 1/3 of what they need at the moment, but it's still a lot of energy for my body to be using.
That night I went to bed around 8.30. Jack was a little unsettled, so he woke me a couple of times, but James had run up to sort him out before I needed to get up, so I was able to go straight back to sleep. I also woke briefly when the babies cried.
Just after 2 am I heard a baby crying, then I heard James thundering up the stairs. He Burst into the room with Sam saying "he can't breathe!"
My first response was that he must just have bad trapped wind and that James is probably overreacting. I took Sam and gave him a pat on the back and watched him. He appeared to be still for a few seconds, then let out a scream, gasp, then go quiet again. I couldn't figure out what was going on.
Next time he went quiet, I realised he really wasn't breathing. We blew on his face to try and startle him into breathing. We went downstairs and were starting to freak out by now. James continued to try and get Sam to breathe normally and I called the post natal ward. She said if he is struggling to breathe, call 999. I was hoping for reassurance! I called 999 and by this point, Sam would stop breathing for about 10 seconds at a time, his face started to go red, his lips started to go blue, and his little tonge was sticking out of his mouth. He was fighting for air and we just didn't know what the hell to do. When he did manage to take a breath or scream, we could hear the mucus which is obviously what was causing the problem. But how the hell do we shift it? James even tried to hang him upside down to use gravity to clear it. We rubbed his chest and his back, we patted his back, we blew on his face but nothing seemed to be working.
999 said they hoped to get an ambulance to us within 30 minutes. While I was on the phone to them, Sam's breathing started to become marginally better. He was taking lots of little breaths now rather than those horrific gasps of air. He was also not going red and blue. He was far from clear, but air was getting in.
James told me to call my friend Emily, the NICU nurse. I did and she called me back straight away. She told us we were doing the right things and that if he stops breathing again, to cover his nose and mouth with our mouth and breathe into his lungs. As if we were doing CPR.
Then he was sick and a huge glob of mucus came out. Oh my god!!!! The relief was immense!!
Emily told us to get the paramedics to take us into hospital to get him checked thoroughly. She has been amazing, checking in all the time, offering lifts and supplies. Everything!
The paramedics arrived soon after 3am, nearly an hour after I had called them. By this point, Sam was breathing fine and fast asleep in James's arms. We were in bits. Well, James was in bits and I was in autopilot, getting a bag together for our hospital trip. Nappies, cotton wool, formula, red book etc. I don't know how I was keeping it together. I have just been watching my baby fighting for breath and his life.
I asked the paramedics if I would need a car seat. They said yes. I told them I would need someone to carry it as I was only 12 days since the cesarean. They told me they would help me out, no problem. That's when James said that he should go to the hospital and I should stay at home with these 3. It made sense. I could continue with the routine with Will and Rob, and obviously look after Jack. My head was already ticking over with how to make it work and I wasn't worried at all. I just wanted Sam to be thoroughly checked and to come home to us quickly.
Then my boys left. It was awful! But I didn't think about it. I had an hour to try and grab a bit of sleep before my new routine was about to begin. I climbed into bed next to Robin and Will. I needed them as close to me as possible. Their calm sleepy sounds comforted me, but seeing them as 2, without their middle man was horrible.
I sent a text to my mum and James's mum, telling them very briefly what had happened and that I could really do with some help in the morning. Lynda messaged at 5am saying she was on her way. I told her there is no point right now as everybody is sleeping. I would call in the morning to make a plan.
I can't believe I managed to sleep for a little while. I clearly wasn't processing it yet.
The babies woke at 6, there had been a clock change overnight, so I thought I had about half an hour before Jack woke up, so I cracked on with the feed and when Jack did wake up, the babies were close to being settled again.
I was on auto pilot. Lynda came and took Jack to her house for a couple of hours. The babies were back in bed and I started to wash the bottles, put on laundry and get ready to start it all again. Then the tears started. I started to see Sam's little face struggling to breathe again. I didn't have long to think about it though, because before I knew it, Jack was home and the feeding routine had come back around.
I spoke to James a lot during the day and he was so upset. Every time he looked at Sam, he would burst into tears. Being with him and having time to think, he was able to take in the magnitude of it all there and then. The lack of sleep was also fuelling his emotions.
Our lovely friends/neighbours came to help feed the babies. Emma, Annabel and Eleanor came at feeding times. This gave me chance to pack a bag for James with food, charger, books and a few other bits he was going to need, and Graham, Emmas husband, took the bag to James at the hospital. Lynda had Jack for the morning and Grandad Paul (James's dad), took him out for the afternoon.
James called during the first feed while Emma was here to say they were being admitted for 24 hours. I put a few more bits into the bag and then everybody left and allowed me to rest.
There was talk of Sam having bronchiolitis, which all 3 and Jack would have, and that Sam had simply swallowed all the crap instead of coughing or sneezing it up. This was never confirmed and we are not convinced. They also said its the fluid in his stomach which he had then aspirated. Reflux basically.
He was on an oxygen level monitor as his levels were a bit low, blood pressure monitor, heart rate monitor and an apnea alarm on his tummy to alert them if he stopped breathing again. He also had a chest x-ray and 2 heel prick tests.
Babies that are born via cesarean are regularly born with fluid on their chests and in their stomachs because they don't travel down the birth canal and get it all squeezed out. Jack coughed for about a year after he was born and we believe it was clearing all that fluid and mucus that was not squeezed out.
James asked me to find someone to stay with me for the night, so I called my godmother who was just amazing! She was up to help at every feed and washed the bottles while I pumped before telling me to get back to bed. I wasn't going to call her but James insisted I had someone with me incase one of the others started to struggle.
Reunited
The following day continued much the same but with the anticipation to have all my boys back together. We were finally reunited mid afternoon and it was then that my emotions went haywire. I had everything going on. I was over the moon that they were home. I was emotional about the fact that they had been gone and we had experienced something so terrifying. I was also incredibly irritable about everything and nothing. And of course, I was totally emotionally drained on top of the standard sleep deprived exhaustion. James had slept well between feeds through the night so insisted I took the early sleep shift. I went to bed and wanted to cry, but was almost too emotionally drained to even do that. The magnitude of what could have happened wasn't something I could even think about. It's just too awful.
Did I react in the right way? Should I be feeling more? Should I try and shut it all out and just be glad that he is still with us? My brain feels like spaghetti anyway, but when I think about what happened, it gets more tangled up. It's a lot to process. It has of course, made me neurotic about them all. Every sound I hear, I hit high alert. I panic if they make any kind of congested, pukey, or snotty noises, and I feel the need to check on them every few minutes now. I'm not losing my mind over it, and I reason with myself and reassure myself that it was just a grunt, a sneeze or a cough. But the fear is real.
Getting back on track with real life.
We are back on track 100%, and it's bloody brilliant. These babies are just incredible and I still can't believe they are here and just how lucky we are to have them. They are just amazing, and they keep proving it when people come to meet them and they burst into tears!
Feeds
James had fed Sam in the hospital and a doctor said he was having far too much for a baby his size and nearly halved his recommended amount. I had noticed them all wanting a bit of a cluster feed in the later hours of the evening, having a large last feed, then wanting to sleep a little longer. We decided to ask the health visitor about it and she said they are all gaining weight in a healthy way and that following their lead is a good idea if we want to. We have decided to stick to the 3 hours during the day and allowing a cluster if they want in the evening, and slightly extended sleeps through the night and see how that goes. They simply won't drink if they don't want to, and if they have had too much, they will throw it up.
Back to calm.
Everybody, including midwives and health visitors, are commenting on how calm we are. We think people are expecting everything to be absolute chaos and us to be stressed out of our minds. At the moment, it's not the case at all. Even when all 3 wake up screaming and there is only one of us to feed them, it's fine. We use the twin feeding pillow for two of them and use a blanket to prop up bottles, while we hold the third and rotate burping and nappy changes. It's a juggle, but it's more than doable. It's just not the lovely, cuddly and relaxing experience that feeding a baby usually is.
I did mess up the other day though. We had quite a few visitors so I decided to wait until they had left to do the bottle wash and prep. We tend to boil some water after the bottles are clean, and leave it to cool so it's ready for feed time. When the babies start to stir, I mix the formula and breast milk if I have any. This way there's no panic or stress. However, I hadn't washed, boiled or done anything yesterday and they all decided to wake up an hour early! This also happened to be just after Jack got home from a play date all hyper and noisy. Oh dear. I speed washed, boiled, sat the boiled bottle in cold water and rocked babies with James, while trying to entertain Jack. We called Lynda for Jack distraction. Needless to say, bottles will be washed immediately from now on.
Jack
Everybody is asking how Jack is doing and he is being showered with gifts. He is great on the whole. He gets 2 out of 3 hours with us, but that one hour of feeding time can be a test for all of us. He knows that we are both busy feeding the babies, so he is often deliberately testing or even naughty during this time because he thinks we won't react to his behaviour. He has a lot to deal with, but he is also 2 years old, so he is just doing what toddlers do! He just picks his timing perfectly!
We have also started with the battle of chocolate. We tend to avoid letting him have things like chocolate and sweets except for special occasions. He does have quite a bit because we bake together so cake and biscuits are quite regular treats, but shop bought and processed stuff we try to avoid a bit.
However, with it being easter, and people trying to spoil him, there has been a LOT of chocolate coming in and he outright refused his breakfast yesterday and was endlessly saying he wants chocolate. When he doesn't eat, he gets hangry, so that was fun!
On the morning we came home from the hospital, he had a bad nappy. I panicked, thinking about the last 9 days of work we had put in to get the babies weight up, and envisioning them getting home and getting diarrhea and us all going back into hospital.
All was fine, but the bug took Jack's appetite away, and he barely ate for 3 days. This lack of food, on top of the new babies resulted in a very testing 2 yr old. He is such a chilled out lad usually, but the terrible twos have definitely been creeping in over the past few months. I'm sure part of it was a test to see what I wasn't able to do and whether I could carry out my threats of punishment while I was pregnant. Now that we have the feeding hour, he chooses the time we each have a baby in our arms, to push the boundaries. He is figuring out that he won't be getting away with things. He is a very strong willed little boy and when he makes his mind up with something, he can be very difficult to persuade otherwise. Which is funny a lot of the time, but it can be very frustrating.
The rest of the time, the 2 hours when the babies are sleeping, he is a dream! He chats, sings, plays and isn't needy in the slightest. He still pushes the boundaries as any 2 year old does, but he definitely changes a little when the babies are thrown into the mix.
He seems to love the babies to bits. He wants to look at them and hold the bottle for them. And he proudly tells people that he has 3 babies. He also goes straight to them and shushes and sways, and puts dummies in their mouths if they cry. He also wants to count them, stroke their heads and point to their noses, ears etc. He also looks super proud when he is able to help out.
So he is doing really well. He is a two year old with a lot of change in his life, and he is still, mostly, really well behaved and happy.
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