What Doesn’t Kill Us Makes Us Stronger…
I never dreamt that I would be a mother of triplets. Even when we were going through IVF and they said there was a 10% chance, I never thought about it. I suppose that is odd since I have heard just the opposite from so many other multiple moms. I also knew from the first time we saw three little sacs on our first ultrasound that we would be having triplets, even though we were told there might be a chance that not all of them would mature (develop a heartbeat). There was a point when I was around 32 weeks pregnant and started having regular contractions and the doctor wanted to put me on magnesium. I knew a lot about it from being a nurse and something inside me said to try upping the dosage of the oral medication I was already on first. Oh how I made my doctor mad but he agreed none the less, and it turns out my gut was right. After 24 hours of upping the dosage I was doing great again. My goal of 35 weeks didn’t happen. I was one day shy of it but I gained 30lbs of fluid in one week (pre-eclampsia) and there was no waiting. No one required NICU and they were all healthy and over 6lbs when they were born. They didn’t sleep through the night until they were 7 months old, and I still feel like I’m trying to catch up with the sleep deprivation.
I was lucky. I am lucky. It has been five years since they were born and we have only had one major illness and that only lasted 48hr (flu). They are super smart, creative, and they are so funny. I envy that part. I am surrounded by people who have great senses of humor (my older daughter, my husband, the triplets, even my father-in-law). I try so hard to be funny but it just never works out for me. The only time anyone seems to think I’m funny is when I’m being serious.
It’s not all roses though. I have good days and bad days just like any mom. There are days when the kids are like a Norman Rockwell painting (ok well moments when they are). Then there are others when they are tearing through the house, yelling as load as they can, and it usually ends in a WWE battle and someone in tears.
I have learned to pick my battles, like coloring on walls. Their playroom (the big livingroom) has older carpet on the floors and just white walls. Kids will be kids, they will spill stuff on the floor (juice or paint), they will evetually color on your wall, at least once. KIDS ARE MESSY! So instead of driving myself crazy, that is their room. They have had instances where they colored on the walls, the carpet is stained up so much it almost looks like a dalmation’s coat, and you know what, life is great! Their craziness is confined to that room and they keep it that way on their own. You have to give your kids the freedom to be messy and curious and to just be themselves.
There is one thing I am working really hard on right now though and it’s mud. I can’t explain it, especially since I was such a tom boy, but the thought of my kids covered in mud just makes me cringe. Well, in truth, it is the thought of cleaning up the child covered in mud. In their hair, covering their shoes, ground into their clothing, I can see it in my mind already and it is screaming NO. It’s crazy and stupid I know, considering I am ok with all their other destruction. This year I will be pushing my mudphobia. The kids and I are going to turn a large part of our backyard into a large vegtable garden and we hope to spend quite a bit of time down at the lake house, fishing and trampling through the woods.
This is a good thing. I know it’s a good thing for them and me… but how do I convince my head.
All I can do is keep saying “What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.”
I am lucky and blessed where my children are concerned, and I never forget that. I am blessed by the life that I have, even though it has never been easy. I am blessed to have a man like my husabnd to walk through life beside me.
No matter what challenges I face or losses occur in my life (there have been many) all you can do is keep going forward. Pick yourself up, clean off the mud, and keep going forward.