December Twentieth, Two Thousand Fifteen
The girls are getting into their circadian rhythms, I’m sure of it. They're going sometimes two and half hours between feeds during the day, and then last night fed at 8:30PM, then 12:30AM, then 5AM, then 9AM. AMAZING.
Still, for a couple nights in a row I’ve slept downstairs with two of the wee babies lying on me. Though they can go longer between feedings these days, getting them to sleep can be real tricky unless they’re physically piled on a person. And, after that, transferring them to their crib is a delicate act that only works about half the time. So, for two nights I just gave in and slept on the couch with half a brood draped over me.
This leaves Gill upstairs with just the one, and I’m a bit concerned. Because these girls could easily drive us apart if we’re not careful. Every day they’re taking up a bit more of our time and everything increasingly revolves around them. Obviously this is how it ought to be, but we need to make sure to carve time out for just ourselves, preferably not just plopped down exhausted in front of the TV.
With that in mind, our glorious sister-in-laws Kailyn and Tara are going to try and watch the girls for a good chunk of the night. A stupendous offer. I'm not entirely sure how everyone will fare, though. We'll at least get to go out for dinner, but those little ladies can be pretty tricky from 11PM on.
Because they still really do need to sleep with mommy and daddy to be happy. And I’m okay with that, for now. I mean, I just have to look at them. To my left, to my right, two truly beautiful little girls. And then there's another damn one upstairs.
Best of all, they're finally out of the delicate, scary premature stage and are but lovely newborns now, becoming more aware, alternating between peacefulness and fitfulness. They’re evolving. And all the while love grows.
Martha and I in particular have been bonding, but all of them are getting so much bigger, stronger, more alert. Those six (!) beautiful eyes are starting to track us and not just flit wide-open and weave wildly side to side. Their little hands are grabbing fingers firmly and chest hair painfully. They nuzzle up to where they want to be, typically right under the chin. Autonomy and self is emerging right in front of us. They’re truly so beautiful. I don’t even mind having to change twenty damn diapers a day.
Oh, and all three have now breastfed. Martha was a hard case, but she finally came around this morning. Now we make it a ritual - Gill feeds one, I feed two via bottles.
Though they've each had a few separately, the girls had their first doctor’s visit all together the other day. It was an insane thing piling them all into the van in this frosty weather. We pulled it off, but what a terrible hassle.
They got their shots and they cried, faces frowning with confused pain. And then they recovered and all was well. 15 seconds, really. Probably about as long as their fledgling memory lasts.
And happy to report that in the doctor's professional opinion they are the most perfect girls who have ever lived and they are in perfect health and always will be.
The trip also afforded us our first taste of freak-show life. Walked into the waiting room and immediately heard murmuring. ‘Look, triplets’. 'Oh my god, triplets'. People coming up and counting our babies for us. A dum-dum chortles to me, ‘Better you than me, bro!’. I give an unfriendly smile and think that I couldn't agree more. Bro.
Incidentally, I’ve learned my threshold for 'Triplet Talk': Zero. Patience was non-existent. Mind your fucking business, people.
And yet, 5 months ago I would have been right in their shoes. Some empathy is needed. It IS an odd sight. We're odd. And if it makes people excited to see something rare, that's just fine.
