My Journey with Triplet Preterm Birth
The doctor checked my cervical dilation and stated that the medication was working. It was nice to hear, but I wasn’t feeling right. A few minutes passed, and I continued to feel worse. I told the nurse that I thought something was wrong. The nurse checked me, and I could see the concern in her eyes. In that moment, I realized that everything was about to change. The triplets were done waiting. The doctors had successfully delayed labor for 4 weeks, but now at 23 weeks, the babies were coming, and there was nothing that could stop them.
The first hours after the delivery were confusing. All three boys survived the delivery, and the naïve mother in me was excited. I thought things were really going to be okay. I could see the ventilators breathing for my babies. I could grasp the fact that these machines were the thin line between life and death, yet I foolishly thought the worst was behind us. Unfortunately, nothing could prepare me for the 4-month NICU rollercoaster that was coming my way.
One of the things I always realized when I was pregnant with triplets is that the babies may come a little early. I never dreamed, however, that I would be on bed rest at 15 weeks and in the hospital at 19. I remember hearing the same quote every day I was lying in the hospital: “Every day you can keep the babies from delivery is one more day for them to get stronger.” It became my life’s mission to do anything possible to keep them safe and warm inside my belly. What they don’t tell you is that when labor threatens at 19 weeks, time becomes your ally and your enemy. Every day your babies stay inside moves them just a little bit closer to viability, but those weeks stretch ahead like an eternity.
I held on to the belief that everything was going to be fine. My family helped me hold onto that belief. The love for my two sons, who were being cared for by my mother during this difficult time, kept me sane. I knew I had to stay strong not just for the babies but also for their brothers, who were anxiously waiting for all of us to come home.
I’m writing this post acknowledging that every NICU story is different, but the fear and the hope is universal. A mother’s love for her child knows no bounds, and without hope, the fear can become too much to bear.
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