When you become pregnant with triplets, you become part of a select club. There are Facebook groups that “meet” to discuss advice and offer support to the scared new mother of 3 at once. It is so incredibly helpful and I truly found so much great advice from these Mother’s that had walked the path and made it through what I was fearfully facing. They were a huge resource for me.
When it came to potty training my first child, I was doing my research from the time Bo was 6 months old and on. I had a game plan and knew exactly what I had to do to get him going in the potty like a champ in no time. I was pretty certain that he was going to receive the Guiness Book World Record for Youngest Infant in History to be potty trained. I started and quickly came to the realization that Bo was not interested. He was perfectly fine wetting and even worse, pooping his pants all day long. It was a nightmare. I pushed him so hard and he pushed right back. It was at the ripe old age of 4 1/2 that he finally decided he should get on board with our plans to avoid me permanently losing my mind. So, why am I starting my “How to potty train your toddler” post with a story of failure? Because here is the thing….every child is different. What works for one child doesn’t necessarily work for another. And to further that, you as a parent have to be ready. It takes some dedication but once you both are on board, you are good to start!
I woke up yesterday feeling blah. A typical Monday morning times 100. I miss Hayes so much sometimes. These down times usually last me an hour or two, but by yesterday afternoon, I realized I was still feeling the funk of my new normal. I sat on the couch, Peppa Pig blasting in the background when all of a sudden, I heard the front door open and Heath taking off down the street in laughter. The babies have been escaping lately and in that moment of hearing his giggles drifting away, I immediately regretted the fact that I hadn’t invested in the chain locks I had been looking at the week prior. And with a frustrated groan I headed after him. Read More
It was the end of July, 2016. We had just finished our 28 day stay in the hospital and we were so happy to be home. On a whim, we had decided to take all 6 of our kids up the canyon on a hike….some would most likely call “Silver Lake” an easy mountain walk, but when you are carrying 3 babies, anything is considered a hike! We had all the backpacks and baby wearing gear, along with a freshly filled load of milk for Hayes’ tube. Nothing was getting in the way. We had day dreamed of days like this while being trapped within the 4 gray walls of the hospital. Read More
My friends like to joke that I go into hibernation in the winter. They aren’t that far off. I ran into one of my neighbors at the grocery store the other day and she really seemed shocked to see me. Almost like she hadn’t seen me all winter! But the truth of the matter is, I do the bare minimum in the winter. I don’t like being cold….I hate it! I don’t have a thyroid so when I feel cold, it is multiplied by 1000. I have the gift of feeling obnoxiously freezing all of the time. So I actually stay inside most of the winter. As a result of all of these factors, winter becomes my most dreaded and isolating time of year. Then there is the fact that winter stirs up all the emotions of when I lost my boy. I am not sure I will ever feel kindly towards that season. Read More
It was around 11:30 on Sunday night when I started to feel that all too familiar sting…the cyclical sting that comes on those special days and anniversaries. I realized that exactly 3 years before that very moment I had been getting prepped for my cesarean. I had unexpectedly gone into labor at 31 weeks 5 days with the triplets and my OB saw that my babies were coming whether I was ready or not. Read More
It was two years ago, right before the 5K and the babies first birthday. We were finishing up Hayes’ second round of chemo and I was still feeling naively optimistic. All I cared about was getting out of the hospital for the 5K and celebrating the babies. Hayes was sleeping in his hospital crib and I was sitting on the fold out plastic couch in my daily “uniform”….sweats. We were in the corner room of the cancer unit. There was a double door to get into our room and you couldn’t hear a sound. We were completely closed off from the world in our little corner that overlooked the Salt Lake Valley. Read More
The past few weeks, I lay my babies down for their daily naps and inevitably, they end up talking to each other under their doors across the halls. At first it is really sweet and then all hell breaks loose and Heath is kicking the door….laying on his back, pounding the door with his feet. Yesterday was another one of those days and I found myself feeling more and more angry with each loud kick of his door….sometimes I just need a break from my kids, I will be honest! So needless to say I was frustrated. Read More
Let me start out this post with a preemptive warning that I actually believe that toddler “education” is not something to stress about. When Bo was 18 months old, he was no joke, a baby genius. He said his first word at 7 months and his words skyrocketed after that. He was literally reading by 3 years old. I will be honest. I was kind of cocky about it and I sort of took credit for his success. I read books with him, worked on his sounds, colors and shapes and pretty much, from what I could tell, I had created a baby prodigy. All the signs pointed to his genius mom.
Then Mia was born. I took the exact same steps with her. I began reading her books and “testing” her on her knowledge and bless her sweet heart….she wasn’t a baby genius. In fact, not only could she not read by the time kindergarten rolled around, but she honestly knew maybe 5 of her letters, if that. Mia ended up doing fine and actually is super smart now. What I came to realize was that I actually didn’t have as big of an impact as I thought. I feel like kids cognitive interests will be perked when they are ready. So then what the heck is the point of trying to teach them at all?!
I decided that teaching my babies is actually the perfect opportunity to spend time with them and for them to spend time together. Maybe they aren’t becoming baby geniuses but the time together is kind of perfect! There is a lot of laughter, a lot of bribing and frankly, sometimes a little toddler tantrum thrown in the mix. But at least I am exposing them and giving them the opportunity to learn. It can’t hurt!
There are a few things that help me find success. First of all, high chairs are key for most of the activities! I can strap them in and they can’t get easily distracted with toys. Second off, I bribe them. Their bribes of choice lately are suckers. They will list off the parts of the face like Einsteins if they see a sucker on the horizon. It actually is kind of how I am with Peanut Butter M&M’s, but I digress. And thirdly, we sing A LOT! I wouldn’t necessarily say my voice is the voice of an angel but it motivates them enough to have me wondering if maybe it is!
Another activity I have found success with is stringing Cheerios on spaghetti noodles or skewers. This keeps them busy forever! Supposedly it helps with fine motor skills but it also will provide you with at least 10 minutes of quiet time. Que the Coke Zero and peanut butter M&M’s.
Last thing I usually do is work on colors. I usually draw about 6 different colored circles on a paper. I then have them sort fruit loops into coordinating colored circles. I have found that these things have worked for us. Even if it is just small things to help them follow directions, I feel like I am helping them become somewhat decent members of society.
Let me know if you try any of these. I am curious to know if it works for other kids. And if you have different ideas, I am always on the hunt for more!
I first found Sarah a few months after losing my sweet Hayes. It was through her social media, @AliceAndAfter, that I was able to hear about her story and her beautiful Alice. I immediately reached out to her, my heart shattered for her and I felt immense love for this person I had never physically met. We shared a similar experience that drew me to her. Losing a child is the worst thing you can have in common with someone, but it is also a beautiful connection. A thread that connects people that understand each other in a way that is deeper than other relationships. Although we lost our babies so very differently, I still feel that invisible thread with her, that pull that says, “I get it, my friend.” Meeting Sarah has given me hope and she has helped remind me that we can still have happiness through the pain and darkness. She is a shining example of finding love and light through loss. Here is her advice for still having a reason to hope.
There is no darkness more potent than that which surrounds you after losing a child. Completely blinded, it’s nearly impossible to navigate the unfamiliar terrain around you. Unavoidably, you will stumble, and you will fall, but you don’t have to be lost forever in the blackness of grief. So how can we adjust? How can we see again and move forward to have productive, purposeful lives? How can we find joy in our newly obscure surroundings? It has been proposed by many theologians, scientists and philosophers that darkness is simply the absence of light. That darkness is not an opposing force to light, but rather, the absence thereof and thus simply a void that immediately surrenders to its counterpart.
This may be true in science, but in grief, darkness is all too real. It will fight back. It relentlessly fixates on your soul, and must be deliberately and consistently evicted. To me it holds true that the only thing equipped to dispel that entrenched dimness in our souls, is light.
So how can we adjust? How can we see again and move forward to have productive, purposeful lives? How can we find joy in our newly obscure surroundings?
1.) Small bits of light can illuminate large spaces- I remember the day my daughter Alice passed away, I was completely shattered. Her death was abrupt, and unexpected. There was no warning, and there was no goodbye. She was taken from me and took with her more of my heart than I could operate without. I couldn’t see the path before me. I was completely blinded by my grief. I couldn’t imagine it. How I could endure this impossible trial before me, while also being engulfed by darkness? The answer is, I couldn’t.
I wasn’t prepared to invite large amounts of light in, but I found bits and pieces I could appreciate. I would allow in just enough to light my path. I thought about how my husband and I spent the last few days of her life home. I marveled at how my husband was on a break from school, allowing him to appreciate her last few weeks with us. I wept in the arms of my family members and noticed when they wept in return. I felt like I was walking along the edge of a cliff with only my cell phone light to guide me, but at the time it was enough to help me not fall.
3.) Allow those who know the path to guide and inspire you- The moment I realized Alice had passed away, I knew I needed to talk to my sister. I needed her wisdom and her comfort. She raced down to my home in the severe snowstorm on that January morning and held me in her arms. I took great comfort in having her near. We had always been close, but our bond had been renewed and solidified that morning because now we had both lost our oldest children, our first daughters. She also gave me hope because although she still carried her grief with her, she also had a functional life which included genuine happiness. Her rainbow baby Norah brought her immense joy that I knew I would be able to find again someday, somehow. Her circumstances were vastly different than mine, but she knew how to navigate the road on which I had never walked. She truly guided me through intense terrain that I wouldn’t have been able to handle on my own.
I also immediately joined a Facebook group called Utah SIDS Parents. I had never met these women, but they ran to my aid. They took me by the hand, and led me down the path. At times, I think they carried me. I didn’t know these women, but I could tell they were anxious and willing to help. I was afraid to open up to them. They were strangers. But I took a risk and I shared with them my darkest moments. They sympathized in a way no one else could have. It allowed me to reframe my thinking. Losing Alice thrust me into a bleak position. Even though I couldn’t see others beside me on the dark path, I was not there alone. There were other mothers finding their way alongside me.
3.) Allow the darkness its time- Just as the Earth has a night and a day, I believe that our souls also benefit from the separation, and the allotted time for each. There are moments I choose to fight the darkness in my mind with light, but there are times when I allow it to be heard. I often find if I literally schedule a time to feel the depths of my sorrow, they become less haunting in unwanted moments because I have allowed them a release. I admit, there are still times when the darkness overcomes me no matter how hard I try to suppress it. This isn’t a failure. The sun does not always shine. Allow yourself to feel what you need to, when you need to, and when it passes, try to invite the happiness.
With that said, allow yourself time to feel joy. The Earth’s brightness at noon does not discredit the darkness of the night. Your happiness will not void your grief. Embrace joy when it comes even if it is in strange or unexpected moments. Your child would want you to experience joy, and all children relish in joy. They would want your life to be filled with light and laughter and not be governed by sorrow and hardship.
4.) Take it slow- Any living creature immersed in an environment void of light becomes averse to the brightness. If you expose them to too much, too quickly, they will be blinded or they will flee. I’ve experienced this so many times in the summer when emerging from my dark basement to the outdoors. The dramatic juxtaposition of luminosity doesn’t enhance my ability to see, it inhibits it. Don’t try to force yourself to enjoy the sunniest, brightest of days, when you are just emerging from the darkest abyss. Just as your eyes need time to adjust, so does your psyche.
Losing a child is an indescribable, horrific experience. I wish it didn’t happen to anyone, but since it does, let’s help each other along the way. The road is dark, but the only way is through so invite small pieces of light to illuminate your way, allow those who know the path to guide and inspire you. Always allow yourself to time for the light and the darkness. Remember this is not a race. The depth of your sorrow will be the depth of your love, and therefore healing will take time. Be patient enough to let yourself take it slow. You will make it through, but only if you bring along with you, a light.