9,000 bottles AND solid food? Are you kidding me?

Our pediatrician's office was always completely full when we strolled in for visits. But bless that staff, I would barely get the triplet stroller through the door before they called my name and whisked us off to our own room to wait our turn. I choose to believe they were protecting my born-too-early-trio from excessive germs but let's be honest, they could have just as easily been moving us because we took up a lot of space when we rolled in!

Whatever the reason for it, by the triplets' first birthday, I knew what to expect at the well-baby visits. I pushed my big giant stroller through the door to her office confidently and waited for them to whisk us back.

When Dr. Mendelsohn came in, I knew we would have some hard conversations about milestones, and adjusting their age to their actual due date -- not their birthdate. I was ready with my questions. Prepared to ask this woman who had been so direct and honest with me since the trio's birth, for assurances that my three were going to be ok.

What I wasn't prepared for was her first question:

"So, how is the solid food going?"

Me: "Excuse me?"

Dr. M: "How are they doing with solid food?"

Me: "Um. Hmm. Um."

Awkward silence.

Me: "I know exactly how much formula to make each night to get us through the next day. The bottles fill the refrigerator but that's ok. We have a system. I know who likes which baby food -- they do not all like the same things. I know exactly how much rice cereal to prepare."

I was fairly begging for a badge of honor. Surely she was going to pat me on the back any minute now. I had survived the first year of three babies after all. Triplets. Twelve months. Close to 9,000 bottles. More like 12,000 diapers. At least 700 loads of laundry.

I knew how they liked to be burped. I knew Mason had to eat first. I knew I had to wake Claire to eat, she loved her sleep. I knew Benjamin needed music playing to eat.

And your first question to me is what again?

Dr. M: "Yes, but how are they progressing with solid food."

Me in my smallest voice looking at my lap: "I don't know. We haven't tried it."

To her credit she just smiled at me then proceeded with her full exam of each of my amazing trio.

As she finished she turned to me again and said: "Go home. Feed them. Try grilled cheese for starters." And then she patted me on the back.

I am pretty sure today -- 19 years after that doctor's appointment -- my three will still rush to the table for grilled cheese sandwiches. They have always loved them.

But that first night -- they inhaled them! Mason Shrader -- the one that had to be fed FIRST -- ate three all by himself.

What happens when Daddy has the task of cleaning them up after supper....
I am pretty sure that is spaghetti sauce holding their hair in place!

*I'm preparing my heart to celebrate the fast-approaching 20th birthday of my trio this month. I'll be here sharing some of our story for the next few days. I'd love for you to join me!

World Prematurity Awareness Day (for another hour at least!)

Storms are spinning all around us. I am glued to the TV watching the radar and ready to wake everyone up and get them to a hallway, a bathtub or something! And as I sit here vigilant, I realize that I can not let the day pass without recognizing that today is the official awareness day for premature births.

Nineteen years ago next week, we received what might possibly go down in my life history as the most amazing news ever: Wade and I were expecting not one little bitty baby, but THREE!

Immediately, the doctor cautioned us that our little ones due on July 7 might make an early appearance. I did some quick math and realized those few weeks early meant these babies might make their appearance on my Daddy's May 27 birthday. I was elated. Anything else was beyond my paradigm. Beyond my imagination.

Unfortunately just a few months later, and the words viable, micro-premie, and neonatal intensive care unit would begin to be bantered all around me as my body was in full labor at 19 weeks.

As we prayed and begged and pleaded with God to keep our babies from too early a birth, people tried to prepare us for what to expect. We were fortunate to be at The University of Chicago with one of the world's leading Neonatal care teams.

Claire with her NICU nurse in 1997 and below in 2014.

In 1997, 28 weeks was a magic number at the U of C. They had a very high success rate at keeping those teeny tiniest of babies alive. I will forever praise God for taking this reluctant southern girl to Chicago for just such a time as this. Because my body hit that magic 28 week mark and decided it could take no more. I was hemorrhaging and scaring everyone around me. The babies and I would not reach 29 weeks pregnant.

Huge medical strides have been made in the last 19 years for these bitty babies. But oh my friends, there is still much to do. 

In honor of my super heroes, can you help bring attention to premature births? Can you help educate your community and spread the word for support of organizations like the March of Dimes who help educate, research and help families just like our's.

Just click share. Or post their picture. Or tell their story. The littlest babies are not indispensable. I for one know three that daily make the world a better place!

World Prematurity Day -- Help Me Spread the Word!

15 million babies are born too soon every year.

Premature birth kills 1 baby every 30 seconds.

I can not even see to type right now. I am typing through tears streaming down my face.

17 years have passed since I became Mommy to three teeny tiny very premature babies. 17 years. And still typing the facts about prematurity feels like someone is punching me in the stomach. I can smell the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit as I type. I can feel the fear of that hospital stay as real as the bile trying to choke me right now. I can hardly breathe.

My premature babies are in the process of applying to college, interviewing for scholarships and planning their futures. This is no small miracle. This is no small blessing. Benjamin, Mason and Claire were born at the University of Chicago -- one of the best NICUs in the world! Oh how grateful to God I am that He alone placed Wade and I in the right place for that time.

Ninety percent of premature babies born in high-income countries will survive birth. But dear ones, 90 percent born in low-income countries will die.

We need to raise awareness for how to care for these the smallest of the small. Early and exclusive breastfeeding can save lives. Skin-to-skin holding and swaddling can help babies stay warm. Both are available even without intensive care and both are proven to SAVE LIVES!

I felt completely helpless when I was rolled into the NICU to meet my trio. And then this beautiful thing happened, Mason's NICU nurse told me to take this baby wearing only a diaper and button him up in my shirt right against my skin. His oxygen levels stabilized. His body temperature remained constant. My baby that weighed barely two pounds, was perfectly content. It wasn't just a GOOD place for him to sleep. It was the perfect place for him to do what his body needed to do at that stage.

I spent the next weeks going from Mason to Benjamin to Claire -- taking turns buttoning them up in my shirt as I rocked and softly sang about Jesus love over and over and over, begging God to grow them in accordance to His perfect will.

We called it Kangaroo Care. Even today, I have the sweetest stuffed kangaroo sitting on my bedside table. A thank you gift from three teenagers who may have heard the story once or twice.

The NICU held parent meetings. The first meeting the pediatrician asked if we were kissing our babies. I was terrified he was going to tell me to stop. I could not have stopped kissing those precious angels if my life depended on it. I was petrified of what he was going to say.

"Kiss them. Kiss them. And kiss them some more," He sternly told us before smiling. "Your body, Mothers, will take any infection on their skin and make the antibodies for them. Your milk will be the best medicine they can receive."

Oh, my dear ones, I sat a lot taller after that meeting. I walked with my head held high. Yes, I had delivered prematurely and I would wrestle with that guilt for years. But as the Mommy I was able to provide exactly what they needed to grow, to thrive, to be able to apply to colleges 17 years later.

We must spread the word. We must educate girls and women and even health-care workers about the importance of skin-to-skin contact and breastfeeding. For the sake of our tiniest babies, for the sake of the blessing these lives will undoubtedly bring, will you help me spread the word??

World Prematurity Day

 Saturday is World Prematurity Day -- a day to focus attention on the global problem of premature birth.  And while raising awareness is wonderful -- and so necessary -- my desire is to also raise hope. Hope for the Mommies all around the world who have felt all alone sitting in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit; hope for the mommies that don't have a chance to sit in a NICU because no such thing exists in their part of the world; hope for the Daddies whose hand can hold their newborn and who are scared to death by that fact; and hope for the teeny tiny babies who need life-saving medical care to survive!

Benjamin, Mason and Claire in the NICU baby swing.

The doctors told us we were expecting triplets the day before Thanksgiving 1996. In utter and complete shock, I began searching for support groups, information, books, anything that might prepare me for the future of our family. I signed up with a Triplets Connection group who immediately sent me a box of information. The box arrived while I was at grad school and Wade pored through the information and hid a lot of it from me. He knew the graphic images of teeny tiny micro-premies would frighten me.

I did not know anything about premature babies. The letters N-I-C-U meant very little to me and though our doctor warned that the babies might be born prematurely, I barely let the words register. I had a nursery to arrange and diapers to buy. I could hardly wait to start buying cute little matching outfits!

Our first family photo -- on the triplets' one month birthday.

When I started having contractions in the middle of a board meeting at 19 weeks, I was shocked. I left the meeting abruptly and called my doctor. He told me to drink a gallon of water and get horizontal immediately. I rushed home and did exactly what he said. And as I frantically drove across Chicago, I began panicking about what exactly premature babies might look like.

Benjamin was my big boy at 2 lb and 15 oz.

Later that week, when I was admitted to the hospital, I was given a rude awakening. No one was talking about premature babies at all. The residents taking care of me did not even bother monitoring the babies' heart rates. They shook their heads and told me they were not "viable". I began to fear not prematurity but losing my three all together. I spent that first night in the hospital alternately crying out to God for His mercy, singing Jesus Loves Me to my tummy and flat out sobbing.

Mason was the peanut -- weighing only 2 lbs 3 oz.

When by God's grace and an amazing hospital staff, we made it to 28 weeks, I began to envision being a Mommy again. And by that point, we had discussed prematurity at length. Wade had pulled out the hidden literature, brought it to my hospital room (where I had been for almost 10 weeks) and I had read as much of it as I could.

Sweet Claire at 2 lbs 8 oz.

Four days later, I would be in full unstoppable labor -- with my health at risk. The babies had to be born -- at 28 and a half weeks. The operating room was packed with doctors, residents and fellows. But the most important people were the NICU nurses waiting with open arms for my beloveds.

Ready for their Baby Dedication to the Lord at five months.

And all of a sudden the place that I had feared -- the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit -- became the place I longed to be the most!

Never too early to wear our maroon!

We had amazing care and made life-long friends from the nurses. I love them like sisters. But those were long, hard, dark days. Benjamin would have a great day while Mason and Claire struggled. Then the next they would change it up and Mason would have a great day while Benjamin and Claire struggled. We were constantly taking two steps forward and three back. I can look at the calendar today and realize the days were not nearly as long as they felt. But living them, they were unending. Unending. 

First Christmas!

I learned Kangaroo Care -- meaning I would button the little diaper clad baby against my chest inside my shirt. I learned amazing things about being the Mommy while doing this because my trio needed no extra clothing or blankets when we "kangaroo-ed", being skin-to-skin with Mommy regulated their body temperature and their oxygen levels. It was amazing.

Ready for their first birthday party!

If you are a friend to someone with a premature baby, be aware that life in the NICU feels all-consuming.  Every breath is monitored, every change in heart rate; every diaper is weighed and every drop eaten measured exactly. It is hard to focus beyond this teeny tiny baby (or all three) to even think about anything else.

My little super heroes at their second Halloween!

My precious three have been home from the NICU for more than 15 years. And yet, last week I opened a new facial cleanser and something about it slapped me in the face with memories. I was overwhelmed and had to just sit and remember for a few minutes. The second night I tried it, I realized that the smell from the cleanser matched something in my memory from the NICU. I can not even tell you what or how or why but opening that container unleashes a well of memories and leave my heart so heavy I have to go physically SEE my trio!

I will always be a Mommy that started my journey in the NICU. It is who I am.

But that is a blessing. The University of Chicago has one of the best Neonatal Intensive Care Units in the world. I have no doubt that God orchestrated all of our decisions regarding Wade's schooling in order for us to be in the right place for these three to get the best care. No doubt.

But oh my friends, there are so many babies being born too early around the world without the life-saving care my trio received. Will you join me today in praying for these babies, the Mommies and Daddies, the NICU nurses and doctors?  Pray for all the families to have HOPE for their sweet children!

Because, my friends, my three premies (and their sweet sister born full term) are God's richest blessings to me!