I thought it would be difficult to take care of three infant girls but the lapse between feedings and diaper changes didn't allow much time for considerations of this sort. One morning, I caught myself rocking my bowl of oatmeal - that was shortly after I've learned how to sleep while feeding two babies at a time, one on each bouncing seat (it you want to know how to do that, it involves the usage of both feet). Visitors praised our calmness and positive spirits, and I went along with that, so proud of myself. I almost thought, "quads would be OK, too!". Then, Evelyn got a stuffed nose. By the way, do you know why pediatricians' offices have toys and children's books? So germs can circulate freely, disseminating the reason's for well-paid-for doctor's visits (insurances don't pay that well for regular check-ins).
Anyways, Evelyn got a stuffed nose. No biggie - for anyone who knows how to breathe through the mouths. Prematures don't breath spontaneously (we may have forgotten but breathing is a learned behavior), and need to learn how to do that through their mouths. My little peanut got to do that the hard way, turning blue and crying desperately for a couple of days and nights. Her sister Cecilia got the same thing, with less significant clinical symptoms but a much highter pich cry. And Jessie woke up with the two others, just to let me know she was hungry already.
After three days, I have learned how to suckle strings of snot deep moisted in saline solution with the confidence of a surgeon and the joy of a gem finder (how to say that in English?). The girls got much better...and I find taking care of three healthy girls a much easier task. Thanks, germs!
Friday, April 17, 2009
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Taken for granted 2
The delightful equality between me and my wife. The pleasure in strength I enjoy by being joined emotionally, physically and mentally with this incredible woman. In another time and place my circumstances, education and experience would not have fitted me to appreciate her, and I would have wandered through life blind to the qualities of people who are female. Brought up in a more masculine country where the divisions between genders was more emphasized and when the anxieties of sharing labors and concerns of a woman's state were more acute, I would have been excluded from and cheated out of a stream of experiences, thoughts and relationships that in this world I find sustaining and precious.
"In common law, wives had no rights over their children or to matrimonial property. This was because 'in marriage, husband and wife are one person, andthat person is the husband', as Sir William Blackstone deftly explained, glossing 'the very being, orlegal existence, of thewoman is suspended during marriage.'" From "English Society in the Eighteenth Century," by Roy Porter.
"In common law, wives had no rights over their children or to matrimonial property. This was because 'in marriage, husband and wife are one person, andthat person is the husband', as Sir William Blackstone deftly explained, glossing 'the very being, orlegal existence, of thewoman is suspended during marriage.'" From "English Society in the Eighteenth Century," by Roy Porter.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Things I take for granted
Feeding the girls with plentiful supplies of formula on hand, plenty of food to supply us with our daily needs. Easy access to stores stocked with baby care items like bottles, nipples, blankets, disposable diapers.
"A baby could only cry about its hunger, but mothers like me had to gry to do something abou tit. It's really hard to bear your child's sobs, when you have nothing to give him." Chieko Hashimoto, Japanese civilian recalling life during the War, when civilians starved on a diet of 1,680 calories a day. Quoted in "Retribution," by Max Hastings.
"A baby could only cry about its hunger, but mothers like me had to gry to do something abou tit. It's really hard to bear your child's sobs, when you have nothing to give him." Chieko Hashimoto, Japanese civilian recalling life during the War, when civilians starved on a diet of 1,680 calories a day. Quoted in "Retribution," by Max Hastings.
Friday, March 27, 2009
re-entering blogosphere
one immediate impact of having triplets is that i have given up capitalization most of the time. they are releasing my inner e.e. cummings, I guess.
disrupted sleep is an attack on the foundation of our self. i think i know a little bit about it from past experience. interestingly, currently luciana and i are in a permanent state of sleep-deprivation, which varies day to day from minor to moderate to occasionally major. but in many ways it has proved much more tolerable than anticipated. everyone was predicting for months that this time with newborns would be dreadful. quite to opposite. there is much that delights, much that provokes meditation and peace, and much that brings me close to the Great Simplicity. in the nursery there is no clock, and there is no room or time for worries about anything beyond finishing a bottle, adjusting a sleeve around a tiny hand, fluffing up little hairs on a little head, and watching eyes open and begin to track around the periphery of your face for the first time, the tenth time, the hundredth time. isn't it funny how we find that any activity appears to be intentional. evelyn thrusts her hands about, and they come to rest on her bottle, and it looks like she's trying to hold it for herself. how pleasant these midnight fantasies can be.
luciana has been recovering very well from her surgery. she seems to me very healthy and energetic, and also quite anxious about handling the babies and taking care of them, which is a surprise. she's already raised for of these little packages. but something about their prematurity and precariousness, perhaps, and something to do with the huge hormonal tides rushing in and out of her body, has her -- not unhinged, but swinging pretty wildly on her hinges at times. she wants to sleep on the floor in their room, wants to take care of the 24 hours a day, leaps up from the table in alarm if one of them fusses in the nursery. we have been talking about it. apparently i have a higher tolerance for the sound of fussing babies and crying babies, and i'm willing to sit a bit and wait to see if the fussy girl will settle herself down. (they often do). during the long pregnancy we had both agreed that one problem would be my anxious and irritated reaction to the sound of babies' crying. she predicted, and i agreed, that i would need to take a lot of time out from the girls because we both anticipated me finding their cries like nails on chalkboard. but not at all. i can listen to a crying girl and patiently suss out if this is hunger, crampiness, irritation, waking up, falling aslseep or any of the other variations on consciousness that the girls currently can muster. doesn't seem to bother me. last night i was feeding cecilia and jessie began wailing three feet away from my ear, and I calmly helped cecilia finish her bottle, wrapped her back in her blanket and tucked her in, then turn to ms. jessie and took her up to feed. well, it helps to be 54 years old, I guess.
my daughter continues to suffer and writhe about the situation, and can't seem to find a way to make herself comfortable. as far as the babies are concerned, she can't stand them and can't stand to be around them, so she has discontinued her every other weekend stay at my house. this means i have to go into town on Friday nights to take her to dinner in order to have some ongoing contact. she can be quite unpleasant. a lot of it is 'thirteen-ism.' some if it has to do with her adoption, her feelings of being abandoned (or stolen away) at birth, and her envy of these little babies who have a biological family willing and able to keep them. and some of it has to do with her mother's ceaseless envious and hateful complaining about her ex-husband, his indifference to her needs and wishes, his arrogance to go and start another family -- which she interprets to her children as my indifference to their needs and wishes and my wish to abandon them and forget about them. there's nothing that can be done about her. i think that she has been getting worse the past two years, and currently she seems quite crazy. i keep my distance, mail the child support checks on time, and try to see the kids when i can.
disrupted sleep is an attack on the foundation of our self. i think i know a little bit about it from past experience. interestingly, currently luciana and i are in a permanent state of sleep-deprivation, which varies day to day from minor to moderate to occasionally major. but in many ways it has proved much more tolerable than anticipated. everyone was predicting for months that this time with newborns would be dreadful. quite to opposite. there is much that delights, much that provokes meditation and peace, and much that brings me close to the Great Simplicity. in the nursery there is no clock, and there is no room or time for worries about anything beyond finishing a bottle, adjusting a sleeve around a tiny hand, fluffing up little hairs on a little head, and watching eyes open and begin to track around the periphery of your face for the first time, the tenth time, the hundredth time. isn't it funny how we find that any activity appears to be intentional. evelyn thrusts her hands about, and they come to rest on her bottle, and it looks like she's trying to hold it for herself. how pleasant these midnight fantasies can be.
luciana has been recovering very well from her surgery. she seems to me very healthy and energetic, and also quite anxious about handling the babies and taking care of them, which is a surprise. she's already raised for of these little packages. but something about their prematurity and precariousness, perhaps, and something to do with the huge hormonal tides rushing in and out of her body, has her -- not unhinged, but swinging pretty wildly on her hinges at times. she wants to sleep on the floor in their room, wants to take care of the 24 hours a day, leaps up from the table in alarm if one of them fusses in the nursery. we have been talking about it. apparently i have a higher tolerance for the sound of fussing babies and crying babies, and i'm willing to sit a bit and wait to see if the fussy girl will settle herself down. (they often do). during the long pregnancy we had both agreed that one problem would be my anxious and irritated reaction to the sound of babies' crying. she predicted, and i agreed, that i would need to take a lot of time out from the girls because we both anticipated me finding their cries like nails on chalkboard. but not at all. i can listen to a crying girl and patiently suss out if this is hunger, crampiness, irritation, waking up, falling aslseep or any of the other variations on consciousness that the girls currently can muster. doesn't seem to bother me. last night i was feeding cecilia and jessie began wailing three feet away from my ear, and I calmly helped cecilia finish her bottle, wrapped her back in her blanket and tucked her in, then turn to ms. jessie and took her up to feed. well, it helps to be 54 years old, I guess.
my daughter continues to suffer and writhe about the situation, and can't seem to find a way to make herself comfortable. as far as the babies are concerned, she can't stand them and can't stand to be around them, so she has discontinued her every other weekend stay at my house. this means i have to go into town on Friday nights to take her to dinner in order to have some ongoing contact. she can be quite unpleasant. a lot of it is 'thirteen-ism.' some if it has to do with her adoption, her feelings of being abandoned (or stolen away) at birth, and her envy of these little babies who have a biological family willing and able to keep them. and some of it has to do with her mother's ceaseless envious and hateful complaining about her ex-husband, his indifference to her needs and wishes, his arrogance to go and start another family -- which she interprets to her children as my indifference to their needs and wishes and my wish to abandon them and forget about them. there's nothing that can be done about her. i think that she has been getting worse the past two years, and currently she seems quite crazy. i keep my distance, mail the child support checks on time, and try to see the kids when i can.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Immediate feedback from the universe
Five minutes after I wrote the last post, at 9 am sharp, the phone rang.
It was Dr. Whitman. He's a pediatrician in Framingham. I called his office last Thursday, based on a referral from the staff at Floating, where he trained. I asked if he had openings and they said he would call us. And he did. Already has reviewed notes from the Floating staff and has checked in with the staff at MetroWest, knows the girls' names and their situation. Wanted to know if I had questions, laid out the plan for the next few weeks.
What can we conclude from this?
That there are no atheists in foxholes, and no radicals with newborns.
It was Dr. Whitman. He's a pediatrician in Framingham. I called his office last Thursday, based on a referral from the staff at Floating, where he trained. I asked if he had openings and they said he would call us. And he did. Already has reviewed notes from the Floating staff and has checked in with the staff at MetroWest, knows the girls' names and their situation. Wanted to know if I had questions, laid out the plan for the next few weeks.
What can we conclude from this?
That there are no atheists in foxholes, and no radicals with newborns.
My gratitude
I have written about my gratitude to the doctors & nurses at the Floating Hospital, and also my gratitude to the dentist & endodontist who rescued my tooth a few weeks ago, and also the neurologist who diagnosed and treated my facial pain.
I mentioned this gratitude to a number of people, and generally got this reaction: well, that's what those folks do. They are doing what they do for a living.
So I was intrigued by an article in the NY Times today by Dan Bilefsky about how Roumanians must bribe their doctors & nurses in order to receive standard medical care. The main case featured concerns a couple, Alina and Ionut Lungu, who failed to provide a large enough bribe to her obstetrician. Feeling snubbed, he didn't bother to come to the hospital when she went into labor. There were complications, and Alina's son was born with brain damage. Nothing can be done.
Bilefsky reports that the entire medical system is corrupted, and doctors, nurses, & orderlies all respond only to bribes in order to provide their services. He traces this back to Soviet-era practices that "the medical profession here had been denigrated under Communist leaders who made workers in factories the country's heroes."
Our social system is a human creation. All human creations are temporary and fragile, depending on incalculable relationships between people, memory and practices. Reflections like this lead one, like Edmund Burke, to seek a "conservative" approach to social planning. But our society is hurtling forward, relationships are changing and multiplexing. It may be that in ten years we don't "go to the doctor" but meet a medical provider in Second Life.
How will we preserve the integrity of relationships that we take for granted here? The integrity that made it possible for us to have three little girls, premature & tiny, and know that they would recieve wonderful, loving, expert, life-preserving care?
I mentioned this gratitude to a number of people, and generally got this reaction: well, that's what those folks do. They are doing what they do for a living.
So I was intrigued by an article in the NY Times today by Dan Bilefsky about how Roumanians must bribe their doctors & nurses in order to receive standard medical care. The main case featured concerns a couple, Alina and Ionut Lungu, who failed to provide a large enough bribe to her obstetrician. Feeling snubbed, he didn't bother to come to the hospital when she went into labor. There were complications, and Alina's son was born with brain damage. Nothing can be done.
Bilefsky reports that the entire medical system is corrupted, and doctors, nurses, & orderlies all respond only to bribes in order to provide their services. He traces this back to Soviet-era practices that "the medical profession here had been denigrated under Communist leaders who made workers in factories the country's heroes."
Our social system is a human creation. All human creations are temporary and fragile, depending on incalculable relationships between people, memory and practices. Reflections like this lead one, like Edmund Burke, to seek a "conservative" approach to social planning. But our society is hurtling forward, relationships are changing and multiplexing. It may be that in ten years we don't "go to the doctor" but meet a medical provider in Second Life.
How will we preserve the integrity of relationships that we take for granted here? The integrity that made it possible for us to have three little girls, premature & tiny, and know that they would recieve wonderful, loving, expert, life-preserving care?
Snow, thaw, snow
Now we're in March. It snowed 12 inches last Monday. This weekend there was a thaw, and all the snow melted away. Birds were chirping etc. Today it is snowing again, we're supposed to get four inches by the end of the day. March alternations will proceed.
Luciana and I are continuing to reconnect. It's not that difficult.
We are both, I think, finding that we have experienced a lot of loneliness and that we continue to experience loneliness. Maybe this is part of having babies in your fifties. There are people who are interested, there are people who are (somewhat) involved, but everyone has a center to their lives and everyone must pursue their own interests and work out their own purposes.
We have been sharing interests and purposes for five years (come May 15th) and we still do.
Somehow, having the triplets would change that, we imagined. I don't think this was ever an explicit wish or fantasy. One of those background assumptions which now has been tried in the heat of reality. It melted away, fast.
Okay. No problem. We get it.
Snow, thaw, snow. Alterations in conditions. Back and forth. Living on the pendulum. If we are here, that predicts that soon we will be there. If we are there, that predicts that soon we will be back here.
Luciana and I are continuing to reconnect. It's not that difficult.
We are both, I think, finding that we have experienced a lot of loneliness and that we continue to experience loneliness. Maybe this is part of having babies in your fifties. There are people who are interested, there are people who are (somewhat) involved, but everyone has a center to their lives and everyone must pursue their own interests and work out their own purposes.
We have been sharing interests and purposes for five years (come May 15th) and we still do.
Somehow, having the triplets would change that, we imagined. I don't think this was ever an explicit wish or fantasy. One of those background assumptions which now has been tried in the heat of reality. It melted away, fast.
Okay. No problem. We get it.
Snow, thaw, snow. Alterations in conditions. Back and forth. Living on the pendulum. If we are here, that predicts that soon we will be there. If we are there, that predicts that soon we will be back here.
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