Triplet B and C were born on the 19th August 2016 via caesarean. Triplet C is Atticus James and B is JoJo Hendrix. They tried to get JoJo first but he was just to stuck and far far too tiny. So, Atticus came first followed by JoJo.
When they pulled my little Atti out he let out the sweetest little cry and I just knew he was going to be ok. I mean I didn’t think a baby born at 23+5 weeks gestation could even cry, and it was the only “normal” part of my labour and I will be forever grateful for the memory.
Atticus’s weight at birth was 550 grams and JoJo was 530grams. Yes, they were tiny. Really tiny. They basically weighed the size of a stick of butter. But my god did they look huge in comparison to Olive. Their bodies were far more advanced. When they say EVERY day counts in utero they REALLY mean it. I saw it firsthand. We were so lucky I was able to keep them in for that extra week.
Post birth was hard. I was mourning Olive. I was in total body/mind shock over the last month. I was in total shock over the boys. When I fell pregnant I never thought I was going to have extreme premature babies. I didn’t even think it was possible that a baby born seventeen weeks early could survive.
They were in their little incubators. Just lying there. So, tiny. We could not touch them. They had a million wires going into their belly buttons. Once again, the terrifying chorus of alarms that was hooked up to them seemed to screech across the unit. They were under these little lamps for jaundice with these teeny tiny little eye masks on. They had a tube going into their lungs that manually “breathed” for them.
To say that it was terrifying is an understatement. I was frozen in fear. I also felt intense guilt. Guilt that my body was relived. Guilt that I may have caused this. Guilt over what I (semi) knew they would have to endure. Guilt over what their future held. Guilt that I was clearly NOT providing their best lived life. Guilt that I was so fucking helpless. I was so helpless. I felt like such a silly giant oaf. All I could do was talk to them. All I could do was talk. Pray. Hope. Reassure them that I am still here.
Our long NICU journey had begun.
JoJo Hendrix Atticus James