I'm Too Scared to Let Anyone Else Take Care of My Kids
When we found out we were expecting triplets, my husband and I knew we would need to be a two income household. I had one daughter already and doubling our family size within nine months time was going to put a strain on our finances to say the least.
I researched daycares and nannies and we even looked into au pair programs on the advice of several other triplet families. My dreams of being a stay-at-home mom had dissolved when the ultrasound tech found not one, not two, but three babies developing before our eyes. The biggest daycare dilemma we encountered was finding a place that would not charge my entire salary to take care of three babies at once.
Carrying triplets meant there would be many risks involved in my pregnancy. I could go into early labor, be put on bed rest, and even end up with severely premature babies. With all these risks in the back of our minds, I continued to work and make plans to beat the odds and carry these babies as long as my doctor would let me.
Soon enough my optimistic plans began to dissolve. I was put on limited activity, then bedrest, then the warning signs of early labor landed me in the hospital long before my babies could be safely born. As the risks of their early delivery and survival began to mount, I found my plans for their fast track to day care slowly dissolving.
Our triplets were born at 28 weeks, with a combined weight of less than one full term baby. In the days that followed, they struggled to survive in the NICU and I forgot about the worries of our life before the triplets arrived. My financial concerns were replaced by fear for our children's lives.
Sadly, our worst fears came true and one of our daughters passed away in the NICU. I spent every day after glued to my chair between my two surviving triplets, willing them to live. I ignored calls that had anything to do with responsibilities of my old life. Emails and voicemails and moving up the corporate ladder meant nothing if my remaining children might die as quickly as their sister had.
Grief left me frozen in this state of fear. I could not let go of the fact that one moment things were fine, we were visiting our three new babies in the NICU, excited for the day they would come home, and the next moment we were telling our daughter goodbye and making decisions on urns and memorial ceremonies. The only thing I could do to help ensure the survival of my fragile infants was become hyper vigilant to their needs.
Thus began my days as a stay-at-home mom. I quit my job — leaving a career I loved behind and never looking back — sure that if I took my eyes off my babies one of them might die, too. We didn't have a single babysitter for many years after their birth. I didn't have a single break, but not because I didn't need one. I wouldn't give myself one.
My surviving triplets are now 8, their younger brother is 6, and I still have severe anxiety over leaving them with anyone. I'm sure my husband wouldn't mind a romantic weekend (or week) away, but fear hasn't let go of me. Logically, I know my children are big and strong and resilient, but there's a part of me that still sees them as those teeny babies, struggling for life in an incubator.
I'm not sure what I think my never-ending presence will give them. I know I'm not superwoman and can't save them from every hazard life might bring, but taking care of them has been the only way I know how to take care of my grieving heart.
One of these days they won't think it's so fun to hang out with Mom anymore and will roll their eyes at the thought of even needing a babysitter, but until then I'll keep them close and remain grateful they are here at all.
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