Babies' First Thanksgiving

When I was growing up, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter were always at my Grandparents' house in Vallejo.  Sometimes there were just five or six of us, sometimes as many as nearly twenty.  Over the years a sort of pattern evolved and my mother took over more and more of the preparations for the meal.  A pattern evolved and in it she (and sometimes I) would go up early to set up and start cooking whatever hadn't been prepared in advance.  Then my dad and brother would come to set up the table and get it set, then my aunt's family would come with a few dishes to add to the feast, we would eat, and they would take charge of much of the clean up.  Since my grandmother passed away in 2004, when Thanksgiving was held in San Francisco, I have done the hosting.  And over those five years I was responsible for the turkey (brining and roasting and presenting - my mom did the actual purchasing and my dad did the carving), mashed potatoes, vegetables, and dessert, plus getting the place presentable, configuring the dining room to accommodate however many people we'd invited, and setting the table.

Because Joe's dad is still recovering from a viral infection, the babies are not allowed to visit him and he is not allowed to visit them until he is cleared of all contagion.  This meant we'd be doing Turkey Day in San Francisco.  Luckily, nobody assumed I would be hosting again.  This year, my mom ordered us a Honeybaked Ham, added a turkey breast for the traditionalists in the bunch, some fluffy mashed potatoes, the yummy homemade stuffing I dream about starting in late October every year, and green beans.  Notice anything missing?  That's right - the cranberry sauce.  We forgot to put the cranberry sauce on the table! This is actually traditional, since it has long been my favorite part of Thanksgiving - the Ocean Spray cranberry jelly from the can, that comes out in a sloosh all at once with the little tin can ridges in the middle - and yet each year I hosted dinner I forgot to put it on the table until I was cleaning up and getting ready for dessert.

Which leads me to dessert.  (Nice segueway, no?)  Remember how I said that for the past few years I've done the bird, veggies, potatoes, and dessert?  Well, this year I made dessert: spice cake.  from a box.  with cream cheese frosting.  from a can.  And all I can say is YUM.

One other thing that set this year's feast apart from others is that we (me, my parents, and my brother) were being interviewed by Austrian TV for a half hour documentary about Arnold Schwarzenegger's governership.  We were asked to talk about its effects on teaching and education in California.  While the thought of the damage done to California's educational system over the past seven years can put a bad taste in your mouth...at least the end of his tenure as governor gave us one more thing to be thankful for.

Obviously, the babies were the center of attention.  It was, after all, their first Thanksgiving.  It was also their first time at Grandma and Grandpa's house (since they usually demand house calls from their SF family members).  While they didn't have any turkey (or ham), they seemed to enjoy the festivities:

Caroline hangs out with Grandpa

and addresses her adoring fans

Max, in his knit cap and overalls, doing an impression of a longshoreman

Getting cuddles from Grandpa

He's just heard he doesn't get to have any of the food

Grandpa tries to make up for it with smooches

Hanging out on their named blankies!

Such a cutie!

Thanks to Amy Whiteside for the really cute overalls!

Ten Weeks

They are just starting to notice each other

Though this picture of Caroline with her dukes up is adorable, the pediatrician says we need to watch out for "fisting", which is a preemie behavior.  We have to make sure their thumbs are on the outside when they form their fists (this will also prevent broken thumbs during their blossoming boxing careers)

The weekly photo op with Myrtle was postponed due to a meltdown by Max (not pictured)

Max, pictured without Myrtle

Daniel, however, was amiable and happy to be photographed.

Finally got all three settled, if only Max and Myrtle would have looked at the camera! (and my finger didn't cast such a big shadow in front of the flash!)

Caroline still has those BIG EYES

Daniel is happy, though Max is still suspicious about the whole undertaking

All three with Myrtle, finally

Do you remember when Myrtle was bigger than they were?

Best buddies!

Here Max is wondering who was making all that fuss earlier.  Obviously, he just didn't enjoy being in the center of the picture ... we all know that's where Caroline belongs anyway!

Growing Up

This week has marked some pretty big steps for the Salvateenies.

First, Mommy decided it was time to start moving toward sleep training the tykes.  The first step is to start upping the amount they're eating and the amount of time between feedings.  So, we jumped from 4 ounces of formula every 2.5/3 hours to 5 ounces every 4 hours.  And guess what - it wasn't that hard a transition.  The book we're following (The Baby Sleep Solution by Suzy Giordano) warns that the first few days may be murder and you'll have to do some tapdancing to stretch the babies to their 4-hour goal (well, she actually says "babY", since it's not geared toward multiples, but at this point I can't imagine what it would be like to have only one baby, so I adapt to plural in my head automatically).  Our babies seem pretty darn happy to play and then nap all the way up to that 4-hour mark and force us to make that hard decision to actually wake them to feed them at the proscribed time.

Already this effort is bearing fruit, as last night they ate between 9 and 10, were asleep between 10:30 and 11, and SLEPT STRAIGHT UNTIL 5:30 IN THE MORNING!  When Max starting yelping for attention, I rolled over to make sure Joe had heard him.  Joe was grumpily waking up, preparing himself to see some truly "middle of the night" time on the clock.  It was amazing how quickly his mood improved when he saw it was actually "morning"!

The advent of sleeping through the night, though has had a corresponding sad consequence.  With the babies at most eating once between 10 and 6, it really didn't make sense to keep our wonderful night doula, Olive, any longer.  (Well, that and the money my very generous parents gave us toward her salary was running out.)  This is sad for many reasons, not least of which is that even just one feeding means an hour or more of being awake when I could be sleeping.  But more importantly, it means there's one fewer person I can look forward to sharing all the babies' exploits with.  I blab about them here, and I tell friends and family.  But, really, who cares how often Daniel is pooping or how well Max has started to burp? Who among you can really appreciate what it means that Caroline has taken to the new "fast" nipple and isn't depositing nearly as much food on her clothes or that all of the babies have been sticking their tongues out.  It wasn't just that Olive knew the babies' tendencies or that she had good advice.  It's that she really, honestly seemed to love the babies almost as much as we do.  And that, more than anything, put our minds at ease when we left the four of them tucked away at the front of the house so we could tuck ourselves away in bed.  On her last night on Saturday, Olive was very nice to let us know we could still call her with questions and that she still wanted to know how the babies were doing.  But it won't be the same as seeing her at 10pm and getting to just chat about whatever was going on.   I encourage you to look her up if you'll be needing night help for your multiples.  She was an amazing help to us and I credit her with a lot of what has kept us calm and helped us to enjoy our babies.

The other big activity this week was today's two-month doctor's visit.  Everyone checked out A-OK.  The doctor thinks she might have heard a tiny heart murmur from Caroline, but it's nothing to worry too much about at this point, just something to watch.  We were given suggestions to cure the "milk neck" Daniel is developing (sort of a yeasty rawness from Mommy not washing him well enough :( ), how to clear up Caroline's newborn rash on her face, and were assured that the little white spots on Max's gums are nothing to worry about.

Caroline checked out at 8 pounds 12 ounces and 21 inches long, a growth of three and a half pounds and four inches since her last visit at the end of September.  Max is now 9 pounds 6 ounces and 21 3/4 inches long, an increase of 4 pounds and 10 ounces (which is more than he weighed at birth!) and nearly 4 inches.  Daniel is still the biggest at a perfect 10 pounds and 21.5 inches, having gained 4 pounds 14 ounces since the last visit (also more than he initially weighed).

After the well baby check it was the part Joe had been dreading most - immunizations.  We were treated to a LARGE room for the procedure - we could fit all three adults, all three babies, and both strollers in the room.  Caroline went first, to show her big brothers it was no big deal.  She took her time with the oral vaccine, but as soon as that first needle pinched into her she let out a piercing, high pitched scream like we'd never heard before (and, really, hope not to hear again anytime soon).  She repeated the performance for each of the next two shots, but quieted down rather quickly as Daddy took her on a tour of the Winnie the Pooh mural in the next room.

Max stepped up to the plate next, sucking down his liquid vaccine in no time and making little whimpering noises as he got his shots.  These whimpers developed into bigger sobs until Daddy got him calmed down in the hall.  Daniel was last and seemed to handle it all pretty well, a little fussiness and crying, but not as loud or upset-sounding as his siblings.

After all three brave babies were immunized, we were allowed to use an exam room to feed and cuddle them and get them all calmed down.  We tried to feed them again at home, and again at 9pm for their "final daytime feeding", but they seem to have succumbed to the 'possible drowsiness and slight loss of appetite' side effects - highly preferable to the 'possible irritability and fussiness', which we've heard can translate to hours of inconsolable crying.

If we'd gotten THAT side effect, we would be REALLY sorry that Olive wasn't coming tonight!

Social Butterflies

This morning I was thinking that we didn't have enough head shots of the babies.  They have just started smiling and I thought I should try to catch that.  Max was smiling widely and adorably, right up until the nanosecond before I snapped this one:

Max 

Daniel was happy, but just too cool to show it:

Daniel

 Caroline did not smile adorably for the picture:

Caroline

but later her Grandpa made her smile for the camera:

Caroline 

We had cousins from both sides of Mommy's family come over to meet the babies.  Mommy loves showing the babies off, but she loves when the visitors help feed the babies even more!

Cousin Patty feeds Max
(check out his adorable SOCKS!)

Caroline falls asleep while Grandpa feeds her

Daniel tries to smile for the camera even as Cousin Ruth feeds him

 After the feeding, everyone had to have a little activity:

Max shows off how he can sit up in his "big boy" Bumbo chair while Daniel works out on the activity mat

 As I walked the last of the visitors out, there was a package on the steps - additions to the babies' wardrobes sent all the way from Wisconsin by the Taschners!  While the clothes won't fit the 'teenies for a while, the truly amazing muckluck boots slid halfway up their little calves and warmed their tootsies on this cold, cold day.

Sporting some fancy boots from the Taschners

Daniel is definitely a fan of the boots

Did I say it was cold? Not only cold, it was also rainy.  In the afternoon, Auntie LeeAnn came to visit and the babies were nice and slept all the way until their assigned feeding time a full FOUR HOURS after the previous one!  That's right - we're trying to start sleep training the babies.  They're nearly 10 weeks old and just about 10 pounds and it's time to start getting them on a schedule so that, maybe, just maybe, they'll be used to it by the time I go back to work in January.

The system calls for getting them up to four hours between feedings, which means they have to eat more, which they're doing.  The second and third feedings went well.  The fourth was a bit of a challenge.  We had to do about an hour and a half of tap dancing to keep them distracted from their mounting hunger and annoyance.  

Of course, that might have had something to do with the fact that they went out in their very first rainstorm today.  It was just a little drippy on the way out, but while we were at our destination the storm developed into a full thunder and lightning show, illuminating the windows and startling the babies.  Startling them so much that it seemed to literally scare the poop out of Daniel, who had to be quickly changed right before we headed home.  On the way from the car to the house the huge, splotchy raindrops pelted them and they did not return home nearly as rested as they usually do.  And yet they still made it four whole hours before the next feeding without a major meltdown!  

Fingers crossed progress continues.

9 weeks old

And here are the Salvateenies' weekly growth chart photos:

Everyone pile on Daddy!

Max sees something to play with (as Daniel makes sure you know WHO is ruining the picture, and Caroline just waits for it all to pass)

And the rough-housing begins

Why do I put up with them?

No complaining, Daniel, I see that smile!

And now for something completely different

I hear you!  Enough with the introspective wordy posts - we want pictures!  Well, ask and ye shall receive!

Daniel and Max (from L to R) - hanging out and looking identical

Colleen, smiling at Daniel, who's smiling at Colleen

I'm sure it won't be the last time his imagination is captured by a pretty girl

(at least he didn't drool -- this time)

Getting cuddles from Kellie

Showing off her first dress with Auntie Lee Ann (who can show her how to "work it" with her fashion sense!)

Showing off her second dress with Grandma Hene - two Ladies in Red!

Breaking up is hard to do

Eight months ago I told my best friend I was pregnant with triplets.  And that was the last time I saw her.

Things had been strained between us since before I got pregnant - she hadn't been terribly supportive of our decision to pursue IVF and one of the specific issues she'd brought up was the increased possibility of multiples.  I had made a decision not to force the pregnancy issue when we saw each other and to only share when she showed interest, rather than throwing updates about hormone injections and ultrasounds at her if she didn't want them.  So that night I was chatting about inane small talky things and in a lull in the conversation she asked how the "fertility stuff" was going, and I told her I was actually currently pregnant with triplets.

Her response was underwhelming, to say the least.  A few days later I sent her an email asking what was up and, among (many) other things, she told me that she didn't think my pregnancy was a good idea, couldn't support my pregnancy and wouldn't be able to help with anything.

That was the last time I heard from her.  I have since sent a few notes - trying to make sure a misunderstanding didn't somehow end a ten-year friendship.  But it appears not to have been a misunderstanding.

As I processed the break-up, most people told me not to worry about it - that during my pregnancy, especially because it was a high-risk pregnancy, I had to surround myself with people who were supportive.  Easier said than done.  Rejection of any form isn't easy, and all those post-break-up emotions were being magnified by pregnancy hormones.  It seemed everything around me somehow reminded me of conversations and activities I'd shared with her (albeit, in retrospect, they were all her favorite pastimes that we shared, not mine).

People also told me that after the babies were born I wouldn't have time to worry about people who didn't want to help and be around the babies.  This has proven to be quite true.  On Monday the Salvateenies celebrated their 2-month birthday and it had been, probably, about 2 months since I'd caught myself wondering how she was doing.

And then three things happened today.  1) Her name popped up on my calendar because today is her anniversary.  2) I watched last night's episode of How I Met Your Mother, in which two best friends fight and break up because the one planning her pregnancy is worried the other will dump her when she becomes a mommy and the other is worried about being dumped for the kid (though they make up in the end).  and 3) I read http://www.babycenter.com's list of "42 things that change when you have a baby" - #8: "You lose touch with the people in your life whom you should have banished years ago".  


So I guess it's true - breaking up is hard to do.  But sometimes it happens and you move on.  And what you find is so much more than what you lost.  

Trying times

As a teacher I have had more than a handful of students over the years who have failed not for lack of ability but for lack of effort.  And over that time I have become familiar with the feeling that many of these students chose not to try not because they had no interest in Spanish but because, whether it was a conscious decision or not, they felt that there was less shame in failing because they didn't try than there was in trying and coming up short.  And while I recognized that rationalization, I could never quite understand it.  I mean, don't they still know, somewhere deep down, that they could've done better if they'd only put in the effort and doesn't that make the failure twice as hard to take?

The answer - yes.

As some of you may know, I had lofty goals of at least partially breast feeding the Salvateenies.  At the very least I was going to pump enough breast milk to give them all the advantages it's supposed to give them.

I think you can see where this is going.

In the hospital I never really got the time and support I needed to learn how to get my tiny little babies to latch on and suck.  And when I came home it was even harder, so I gave up on that pretty quickly and figured I'd just pump.

Pumping as much as I could find time to, I was only producing about 3 ounces of milk a day, which at the time was enough for each baby to get one feeding of breast milk.  I met with a lactation consultant who told me I needed to be pumping at least 8 times a day for at least 10 minutes each time to try to increase my milk supply.  So I rented the fancy pump she recommended that was supposed to help increase my milk supply and I tried to focus on pumping after each feeding, at least.

Only the babies started growing, and they didn't want to sleep after every feeding.  They wanted to play, and I wanted to play with them.  And when they did sleep after a feeding, I wanted to sleep.  Or take a shower.  Or get a snack.  Or read the paper.

And pumping wasn't going well.  When I did pump, inevitably at least one baby would wake up crying and I would try to lug the pump over to soothe them.  You really have not seen pathetic until you've seen a mother hooked up to a breast pump like a science experiment holding a baby at arm's length because that's the closest they can get without dislodging the tubes, thinking that will soothe the baby at all.  And even then, I never did get more than 3 ounces in a day, and it was depressing.

And so, basically, I stopped trying.  If I didn't strap that pump on, I figured, I couldn't feel bad that its little bottles were empty.  I got down to only getting in two pumps a day.  And that was stupid because it wasn't giving me enough stimulation to increase or even maintain my milk supply and yet it was just enough to make me feel like a failure.

And everybody tells me it's ok - that it was unrealistic to be able to pump enough for all three, and that even with only one baby it just might not have worked out.  And I know that's true, but it doesn't take away the feeling that if I'd just really tried to get those 8 pumps in a day I couldn't have done it.  If I'd just set an alarm or something.  If I'd really WANTED to, I would have made it work, right?  And if I'd tried, I could have done it, right? And it would've worked.  So I feel like a double failure.

Maybe it's just maternal hormones that somehow get secreted and make you feel like you're just not quite doing enough, or if you are, you're just not doing it well enough.  Yeah, that's it.  I'll blame hormones.  That way, I can blame myself, but it's a part of myself I can't control so it'll make me feel better.

Won't it?

Time Management

12:42 - All babies have been fed, burped, and are dozing in their bouncy chairs.  Time to get some stuff done!  Most pressing? Take a shower!

On the way from the living room to the bathroom, I pass the stairs, where I see my keys, which reminds me that I didn't bring in yesterday's mail, which I need to do because the gift certificate for Tom's birthday present is in there and Tom is coming over this afternoon.  So I run down to get the mail, bring it in, go through the mail, and now it's..

1:02 - Babies are still sleeping, so I can still grab that shower...off to the bathroom.

Walking in the bedroom to get undressed for the shower, I remember my laptop computer is in there running a software update and it's almost done, so I wait for it to finish, then restart the computer, then remember there's a file I need to print, so I print it, then I check the internet connectivity issue the update was supposed to fix, and it didn't, so I should call Apple back and get the next set of instructions, but I can't because it's...

1:18 - The babies are crying and I still haven't taken that shower.

So I head back to the living room and walk a baby or two, and miraculously they all calm down at once.  And by...

1:28 - I'm in the shower!

1:42 - I'm out of the shower and my teeth are brushed and so is my hair and I'm opening the door to leave the bathroom and can faintly hear babies squawking, but they can wait until I'm clothed, so I get dressed and walk back out to where the babies are waiting and juggle them while I call Apple and follow all their recommendations until the computer works!

2:30 - all the babies are snoozing and I can catch up on the email I missed while my computer didn't work.

2:43 - the babies are no longer snoozing.

3:04 - time to start changing diapers and warming bottles

3:25 - Tom and Carla arrive just in time to feed a baby each - THANK GOODNESS!

Oh, and, p.s. - I typed this post one-handed while handling the next round of feedings.  Next I get to eat!

Eight Weeks Old!

Sorry for the lengthy wait between posts.  Just getting you used to the inevitable day I have to go back to work (though I can't imagine that yet).

I'll be writing more about what's actually going on later.  For now, some adorableness:

Max with his pacifier and Monty the Monkey

Caroline is actually "bunny ears" sized!

Daniel, nonchalantly grabbing the activity mat toys

Chilling on the boppy pillow

8-weeks old and swaddled

Caroline, wide awake

Daniel, asleep with his double chin

Max, snoozing securely at Myrtle's side