I spent Friday afternoon running kids to the doctor (an hour drive there), getting medicine, and making a quick stop at Border's while we were in Albany. When we arrived at the doctor's office, I tried to unfold my tandem umbrella stroller and discovered that it was stuck. This stroller was a $10 buy from one of my neighbors while we were still living in St. Louis. One of the wheels is now attached by a radiator clamp and when it got stuck one other time, I stood on one of the metal pieces that was supposed to unfold and bent it. Yesterday I bent the other metal piece and totally ruined the stroller.
That meant, that sans sling or wrap, I had to carry the babies everywhere in their carriers. It was a workout, but with the other kids holding doors and carrying the diaper bag (which weighs a ton), we managed. When we got to Borders, I let the kids look around the children's section while I sat down at one of the small tables and prepared to give the babies their bottles.
As I was feeding them, a man and his elderly mother walked past me. "Aren't you glad you don't have triplets?" the man said as he passed.
I have to start preparing responses for these sorts of comments.
The man was just joking, of course, and he probably would have been horrified to discover that I actually had conceived triplets, but had lost one around the same time we discovered that I had a multiple pregnancy. This was very, very early, because almost immediately after I took the pregnancy test, I started contracting and bleeding. (As luck would have it, this began when my husband was out of town. I called him in tears to see if he could find an early flight home.) Since I'd had a previous miscarriage, my doctor didn't waste any time giving me a series of ultrasounds. The ultrasound revealed two healthy sacs and a grainy third sac.
"Probably just a bubble," my doctor said.
"Looks like a third," the ultrasound tech said.
Every Friday for a month, I contracted and bled. At the time, we were also trying to get our house ready to put on the market, find a rental in New York, and do all the thousand other things you do when you're getting ready to move. I was wretchedly sick, and every Friday when the contractions and bleeding started again, I was also convinced that I was going to lose my two other babies. It was really a horrible time, and not the best foot to start off on as far as either the pregnancy or our move went.
When the babies were born healthy and only a month early, we all breathed a sigh of relief. We had an extra carrier around when we brought them home for one reason or another, and after a while, I couldn't look at it anymore. I couldn't see the two carriers full of babies and the empty one together. I took it out of the room and put it away. I don't know why it was out in the first place.
What was really strange is that my husband and I both fully expected the boys to be girls, and we both -- independently of one another -- came up with the same name before we knew they were boys.
I think that must have been the name of our triplet.
So no, I am not really glad that I don't have triplets. But I am glad that I have twins.