Sunday morning live

We arrived at the hospital, parked the car, and entered the building through the automatic doors near the admitting office. We didn't realize how many times we'd be walking through those doors over the next four weeks.

The admissions office was closed, so we headed straight up to labor and delivery as we had been told to do by our doctor. We got into a room, Amber got into the bed, and the nurse affixed three fetal heartbeat monitors to Amber's belly. It took her a while to get them positioned just so in order to hear the three heartbeats, and I was secretly very relieved when I finally heard the third one pounding through the speaker.

Folks began to arrive a few at a time and gather in the waiting room. The nurses told us that they were prepping the room and waiting for all the staff to arrive (we had thirteen hospital staff present at delivery), so we waited, chatting with family and friends, taking a few pictures, and wondering what it was all going to be like.

At 2:00 am, they were ready. They took Amber back to prep her for the c-section, and I wandered the hall between the OR and the waiting room. My parents finally arrived in spite of being pulled over by a police officer; their excuse got them a warning and a "be careful".

The nurse called me into the OR, and I entered to find Amber's head and arms on the 'safe' side of the blue drape. She'd already received anesthesia. The nurse pointed to my seat and our doctor offered some light-hearted encouragement. I sat down next to Amber's head. I kissed her, we exchanged some words and readied ourselves to meet the girls.

Before long, after what Amber described as 'tugging', I heard the doctor say "Dad, do you want to see Baby A?" I quickly overcame any fears of blood and fainting to stand and peer over the curtain. There was Aleah, my first daughter, the most amazing sight I had ever seen. The doctor then held Aleah over the curtain so Amber could see her. Two more times that happened..."Dad, see Baby B." Stand up, peer over, Bella, the most amazing sight; "Dad, Baby C", Clara, the most amazing sight.
Aleah, Bella, and Clara....they had arrived.

To be continued...

Saturday night live

We had just said goodbye to a couple of friends who had been over for dinner and some games. Amber, large with children, was sitting in the recliner, and I was on the couch.

"I'm heading to bed," she announced. She had to announce it because at this point in her pregnancy, when she moved from one room to another, the dog and I needed a warning to stay out of the way.

Saturday Night Live had just begun as Amber began to push herself up from her seated position. My eyes were on the TV, watching the celeb d'jour beginning an unfunny monologue, when Amber spoke my name.

"I think my water just broke," she said.

"Ok," I said, "Are you sure?" My head suddenly felt like a tightly-wound spring ready to release and bounce wildly around the room.

"Yes. I think so."

And we were off. I rushed to get her a towel which she immediately straddled like horse to stem the flow. When they say "water", they don't mean "water" like a trickling mountain stream; it's much more like a falls of the Niagra variety. I ran around gathering things, like a good non-panicked father-to-be is supposed to. Amber had a master list of things to take that she couldn't find, and her panic escalated into an image that I won't forget...she, squat-walking around the bedroom, red bath towel clenched below her massive belly, shouting repeatedly at no one,"Where's my list?!!?!"

We called my parents, who were probably in a deep sleep in northwest Houston. They had a long drive ahead of them and we didn't know if they'd make it in time. Once we got our stuff together and in the car, we headed to the hospital and made the rest of our calls on the way.

After the last one was made, it started to hit us.

"This is it," I said.

"Yep."

We were driving to the hospital as husband and wife, and we'd be driving home as mother and father. Whether or not we were ready wasn't the issue anymore; we knew that it was only a matter of hours before we'd see the faces of the children we'd only known as black & white video images and things-that-go-bump-in-the-belly.

Next time..."You wanna see the placenta?"

Stranger Comments

Having triplets means that you can't really go anywhere in public as a family without generating at least some amount of attention. Before we had the babies, Amber read lots of complaints about this: no privacy, annoying strangers asking personal questions, finger-pointing and under-the-breath comments. We figured most of the folks complaining about this weren't people-people.

Turns out that it's been fun for the most part. True, we don't go anywhere without hearing, "Oh look!" at least once. And every once in a while, we'd prefer going somewhere as a family without being pointed at from across the street. But it's fun meeting people and seeing the smiles on their faces.

Here are some things we've heard while we were out, along with a few of our responses (both real and imagined):

By far the most common remark is, "You've got your hands full."

"Glad it's you and not me." -- to which we usually respond, "Me too!"

"Two boys and a girl?" -- which usually happens when they're all wearing pink. Go figure.

"You have beautiful babies."

"Are those twins?"

"Are you going to try for a boy?" -- the snide part of me wants to respond, "We don't know, but we'll be sure and let you know when we start," but the better part says, "We're not sure yet."

"Are those fertility?"

"Were they natural?" -- snide response: "Actually they were manufactured in a cyber-genetics lab in east Asia. And believe it or not, they run on only two AA batteries!" Real response: "We did fertility treatments." Though we know what they mean, the proper term for multiples that occur without fertility treatment is "spontaneous".

"Daaaamn!"

"Do you ever get any sleep?"

"I bet you don't go anywhere without getting attention." -- the irony of that statement seems to elude the person making it.

"I wish I had my camera."

"Do you mind if I take a picture?" entrepreneurial response: "Five dollars. Fifteen for our signatures." Real response: "Not at all."

"I thought I had it rough with n children." -- and we're glad to provide them with a new perspective.

"God bless you."

"You've made my day." -- we've heard this more than once; it's a very sweet thing to say, and we're glad to have done it.