That's right, it's that crazy time of year again: Birthday Week in the Hunt house! It's crazy! We have six birthdays in 5 days, including the triplets and their brother Liam. The triplets actually started out as quadruplets, and when Liam came along he was due on their birthday. He was just late to the party.
This year, I found myself reflecting on their birth more than I usually do. I mean, birthdays are about the kids, right? But the triplets birth was my birth as a mother, and something about the number 11 (hey, that's 3 in binary!) just got me looking back over what seems like both a really long time AND just yesterday.
The triplets' birth was not a good one. The fact that I was carrying multiples at all was due to a mess-up with the fertility treatments. When I went into labor at 26 weeks, the doctor on call sent me home on a sedative without even coming into the hospital. So needless to say, having them at that point was a scary shock, not an expected thing at all. Add the anesthesia problems on top of that, and the whole thing was a nightmare. How sad to look back and have those memories as my first ones of being a mother! And yet, maybe it was like being birthed in fire. We started out with the worst first, so it could only get better, right?
It sure would have been hard to imagine today from that vantage point 11 years ago, watching my too-small babies get wheeled away to be poked, prodded, and hooked up for three months. Today, I watched them run, play, blow candles, bob for apples. They're getting so big and mature! They helped plan the party, from choosing the theme to selecting and planning games and picking out and putting up decorations. They're old enough to babysit for short periods, to stay home alone, to cook meals, to help clean house. They've outgrown the kids menus at virtually every restaurant. They've started joking about boyfriends and girlfriends and playing with makeup and cologne. Am I ready for this? Puberty and dating times three? I guess I'd better be! What a far cry from the helpless, sick, tiny babies I first saw come into the world eleven years ago!
This year, I found myself reflecting on their birth more than I usually do. I mean, birthdays are about the kids, right? But the triplets birth was my birth as a mother, and something about the number 11 (hey, that's 3 in binary!) just got me looking back over what seems like both a really long time AND just yesterday.
The triplets' birth was not a good one. The fact that I was carrying multiples at all was due to a mess-up with the fertility treatments. When I went into labor at 26 weeks, the doctor on call sent me home on a sedative without even coming into the hospital. So needless to say, having them at that point was a scary shock, not an expected thing at all. Add the anesthesia problems on top of that, and the whole thing was a nightmare. How sad to look back and have those memories as my first ones of being a mother! And yet, maybe it was like being birthed in fire. We started out with the worst first, so it could only get better, right?
It sure would have been hard to imagine today from that vantage point 11 years ago, watching my too-small babies get wheeled away to be poked, prodded, and hooked up for three months. Today, I watched them run, play, blow candles, bob for apples. They're getting so big and mature! They helped plan the party, from choosing the theme to selecting and planning games and picking out and putting up decorations. They're old enough to babysit for short periods, to stay home alone, to cook meals, to help clean house. They've outgrown the kids menus at virtually every restaurant. They've started joking about boyfriends and girlfriends and playing with makeup and cologne. Am I ready for this? Puberty and dating times three? I guess I'd better be! What a far cry from the helpless, sick, tiny babies I first saw come into the world eleven years ago!
