The Boys (Photos)

Charlie is in polka dots, Cal in fuzzy green and Harry in white print. We are so fortunate the hospital had a photographer there for us and they also made some beautiful molds of the boys hands and feet as memorials.

These pictures remind me of how close our life was to being totally different.

Box Maker

I wish these pictures could do the casket justice, they just don't. It was so beautiful and I was so proud that Aaron was able to build it. He pieced together a few different species of woods to make this most special box - he didn't have enough of any one wood for the whole project. The lid is cherry with bubinga handles, the main box is padauk, and the bottom is white oak. The black screw are handmade out of ebony. He thought he was going to carve the boy's initials into the top, then we decided on BROTHERS instead. When we showed up at the funeral home the director surprised us with a plaque that he had made with their names on it. It worked perfectly. He added leather straps before the funeral.

I imagine the time Aaron spent in the shop in the two days following the boys death was therapeutic. If Charlie, Cal and Harry were anything like John they too would have loved to be in the shop with their dad. He had so much to teach them.

Cosmic Joke

I wish I had more to write. I don't. I feel as though I just woke up from a bad dream. Not just the last week but the last six months. It seems unreal. It's starting to become a blur. I'm a bit numb.

Part of me feels guilty for not feeling worse. I know we'll be okay. I know it will be rough for a while but I don't have this feeling we're headed for a big black hole we can't get out of. Maybe the strength I feel is from the boys. I know they would not want me to hurt so deeply that I could not continue living fully.

Aaron certainly feels more angry than I do. Nothing that happened is logical. He feels as though we were the butt of a cosmic joke. Why would everything that happened in the last six months end like this? Why would we be given a shot at triplets? We weren't trying to play God and didn't ask to carry so many babies. Why would everything in the pregnancy progress so well? If these babies weren't going to make it why couldn't it have been at 12 weeks and not 4 days before they were considered "viable"? Why would I go from being in the best shape of my life to a 4,0000 calorie diet and sedentary, to be left when it's all done with twenty some pounds of baby weight and no babies to show for it? Why take the beauty and miracle of birth and make it my most horrifying life experience? Why the magnitude of losing all three? Why let this happen with no explanation and nobody blame?

There are no answers. We all have a cross to bear. We all have a story to tell. There will always be things in this life we cannot explain or justify, events and circumstances that do not make sense and make us feel like life is short changing us. That's just the way it is. Sometimes life is just not fair.

A Mighty Wind...

Aaron and I have always felt closest to God outdoors among his mountains, his critters, his winding rivers and gigantic trees. When the clouds move and the wind blows - man cannot control that nor man create that. Our Earth is evidence, to us, there is a God.

When Charlie, Cal and Harry were born and died it was raining and dark out. I thought, how appropriate. On Thursday afternoon, they were buried. The sun was out and the wind was blowing. Again, I thought, how appropriate. I was hoping that sunshine was evidence that was needed to let me know they made it to Heaven alright - but I needed more.

Thursday evening a few hours after they were buried, a storm was brewing. We got hammered. Rochester lost over 150 large trees, roofs and walls were blow off homes, our power was out and lines were down. Sections of town were barricaded off because of the damage.

"Mama, we made it!" With force and fury those boys gave me the sign I needed. I told Aaron, as horrible as it sounds, I think that storm was a sign from the boys that they made it up to Heaven. He said, "Yep, sounds right. They probably have Mary in a headlock already."

Tough Choices....

Here is a true and factual statement; Babies born when Charlie, Cal and Harry were born do live. They can, with proper medical intervention early on, continue to grow in the NICU and after a few months be released to the world has happy, healthy baby boys with no lasting consequences of their premature birth. That is a totally true statement.

While that statement may be true, it is only true for very few babies. One of the best gifts we were given on Sunday night was Dr. Chris Colby, neonatologist at the Mayo Clinic (more on the rest of our A team later). Dr. Colby had met with us briefly Saturday but we didn't make any decisions with him then because it was still to early to know if I was going into labor. The OB doc on Sunday night insisted that we make a plan and she called Dr. Colby to come back in to meet with us. He didn't have to...I don't even think he was on call. He sat with us for nearly two hours giving us the information we needed to make a plan if these babies were going to be born. (Those of you who know me well know I loath plans).

Here are the stats we were given based on a triplet pregnancy at 23/3 with an estimated weight of 500 gms (they were bigger than expected). These numbers are conservative. They would have a 14% chance of living. Out of the 14% who live, half of them will live with serious complications including mental retardation, blindness, and cerebral palsy. Another week and our chances would have increased to 40%, two week gave us a 50% chance, if we could buy another 3 1/2 weeks they were 90%-95%. The numbers were also lower because they were all boys - girls have a better chance. Those numbers were for each individual baby, we had three. Based on those numbers we needed to make a choice as to whether or not we would do everything possible to save our babies, including trying to stop labor and get more time.

If we were going to intervene Dr. Colby needed to get a team in place - in the middle of the night. They have staff that can handle the babies one at a time or two at a time but three was getting tricky. If we were going to intervene they would do a c-section to get the babies out with the least trauma to their heads. The babies would then be born and immediately transferred over to St. Mary's hospital where the NICU is (we were at Methodist where are OB procedures are done. St. Mary's is a catholic hospital and will not allow some procedures that Mayo offers). Once the babies were at the NICU they would need all sorts of help to keep their little bodies growing outside of the womb. If we did this could I endure never holding my babies, could I endure not being there if they died, could I endure planning a funeral after a major surgery, could I endure a c-section possibly complicating future pregnancies?

While all the numbers and logistics were playing through our heads, what I was really thinking of were our friends who had unfortunately had make those same decisions and the outcomes of their precious children.

We needed more time...days, a couple weeks, just a little more time. We needed to stop labor. We were given the option of using magnesium for 48 hours while steroids were administered to develop the babies lungs. Magnesium was 50% effective at stopping labor at least temporarily but would only be administered once. It was our trump card. Our other option was an aggressive antibiotic therapy that would hopefully stop labor. That is what our plan was. We were going to try and stop it with the antibiotics, try and buy time and then when labor kicked up again we would use our trump card, get the babies lungs developed and then do everything possible. If we used the mag drip immediately and it only bought us 48 from where we were at, it was not likely going to buy us enough time to make a difference.

The other thing we needed to keep in mind is why this was happening in the first place. If the membranes ruptured because of infection my body was likely laboring to get the infection out to protect me. The biggest fear after PPROM (preterm premature rupture of membranes, which I now know I have an issue with since that's what happened with John at 35 weeks more on that later) is infection. Infection could have caused it or it could be caused biologically. Once the mucus plug is no longer in place both myself and the babies are open to infection. An infection in the uterus with all that blood could be life threatening. I had to trust my body knew what it was doing, even though no signs of infection had been detected by numerous tests.

We used the options we had, they were not effective in stopping labor. The babies were born peacefully - just ourselves, two quiet doctors and a nurse in a silent, cold surgical suite. As Charlie and Harry held on for two hours and Cal 45 minutes the thought crossed my mind - should we do something? Look at them, they're so healthy and perfect and look how long they've lasted with no help at all. I knew better. Those babies had a lot going on inside and they were too early.

Our biggest struggle with making this decision is our belief, like many parents believe, that our kids are the ones who will beat the odds. Our kids would have been among the 7%, we are never the other 93%, we are strong, healthy people who work hard and our kids are the same way, bad things don't happen to us, we'll look back and think this was a miracle, these are our boys-they will make it and beat the odds and life will be perfect.....We will get lucky and owe God big time for this one.

If ever the serenity prayer was helpful, it was that night when we made our choice:
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I can,
And the wisdom to know the difference.

We are at peace with the choices we made.

Numbers

Some quick stats that I haven't posted....

Charles Monroe Muller, born 6:48am, June 14th
1 lb., 4.2 oz and 11 1/2 inches
Died around 8:30 am

Calvin Joseph Mueller, born 10: 24am
1 lb, 6.4 oz and 12 1/2 inches
Died around 11: 15am

Harold Chris Mueller, born 10:29am
1 lb, 5.5 oz, 12 inches
Died around 12:15pm

They were 575 gm, 630 gm, and 610gm...the stats we were given to make our decisions off of were based on 500gm babies so they were bigger than expected - the fact that they were triplets did not slow their growth one bit. Babies born at this time do live, but not without a high probability of complications. That is my next post - the decision we made to not use medical intervention to keep them alive.

This and that...

Aaron finished the boy's casket late last night. It is absolutely perfect - his finest piece. I am so thankful he was able to do this. I will post pictures later.

Last night I was talking to my nieces and my sister told them Grandma Jean would be taking care of the babies, rocking them, etc. Grandma Jean is in heaven with the boys. "And Santa too?" Jessa said. Priceless. My three year old neice Keigan who has the most beautifully raspy voice and who speaks slowly said,
"You crrrying?"
"Yes Keigan, I cry because I'm sad."
She looked right through me and flatly said,
"Cause your baaabies died."
I will hear her voice saying that forever. I laughed and cried at the same time - the most heartbreaking, innocent thing anyone has ever said to me.

My milk came in last night and I make Dolly look like a school boy. Apparently they didn't get the message. I had so looked forward to being able to nurse the boys and the spent all last week on triplet blogs of mom's who nursed figuring out logistics. That was to be my full time job for the next year. I thought about pumping and donating but what I really need to get back to my son who lost his mom for the past five months.

Thank you all again for the messages, the food, the flowers and the memorials to the March of Dimes. It is so comforting to feel so loved. Please don't shy away from us. We never want this to be the elephant in the room.

It's a beautiful day. It was raining when they died and now the sun is out. How appropriate. I have included a story below that was read at our friend Andrew's funeral last year. It impacted both Aaron and I profoundly and we want to share this about the will of God.

.....Sometimes when someone dies too soon, by an accident, as Andrew did, sometimes in
our grief, frequently, in fact, we look for someone to blame. Physicians know it. People who work in hospitals know it. Ministers know how natural it is to try to find someone who is responsible for this and occasionally in that process we blame God, or seem to blame God, by trying to reassure one another that there is a wisdom operating here that is beyond our own, that this death, or any untimely death, was somehow the will of God, part of God's plan.

William Sloane Coffin, Intelligence Officer in the Army (WWII), brilliant intellect, concert pianist, became a minister, chaplain at Yale during the Vietnam War, minister of Riverside Church in Manhattan, and became one of the great preachers of our age. His 24 year old son Alex, died in a traffic accident when his car skidded off the road in a terrible storm and plunged into Boston Harbor.

The next Sunday Coffin somehow managed to get up into his pulpit and preach a sermon,
Alex's Death. He said:

"When a person dies, there are many things that can be said, and there is at least one thing that should never be said."

And then Coffin explained that a well-meaning woman had said to him that she just didn't understand the will of God. His response was immediate and strong:

"I"ll say you don't understand, lady! Do you think it was God's will that Alex
never fixed that lousy windshield wiper of his . . . that there are no streetlights
or guard rails along that stretch of road?"

And then he reflected helpfully for his congregation in words that are important and helpful to us today, sitting in church in a similar situation:

"God is dead set against all unnatural deaths . . . The one thing that should never
be said when someone dies is that it is the will of God. Never do we know
enough to say that. My own consolation lies in the fact that it was not the will of
God that Alex die; that when the waves closed over the sinking car, God's heart
was the first of all of our hearts to break."

Aaron and I believe our son's came into this world naturally and left this world naturally. And when they passed it was God's heart that was first to break.

What happened...

Some background.. We learned in early February that we were pregnant with natural, fraternal triplets. Statistically we had everything going for us; the babies were conceived naturally, they were all in their own sac, they all had their own placenta, and I had already had a successful pregnancy. At 16 weeks they started baseline measurements for my cervix, which was measuring between 4-5 cm (anything over 3 is great). They would continue to measure every week to week and a half as that measurement was the indicator for going on bed rest.

As standard care for triplet pregnancy, my doctor told me to quit working by 20 weeks and prepare to be fairly sedentary for the duration. That was not a problem. I put myself on bed rest. My body was pumping three times the normal amount of blood and had a lot of babies to nourish. I was not able to even walk a block after 12 weeks or I would nearly pass out (quite a difference to my pregnancy with John when I was renovating and exercising up to the day I had him). But I didn't just slow down - I nearly stopped. I did not want to risk anything. This was it. This was our family in the making. With any luck I would not be pregnant again (my hormones were three times the normal level for pregnancy too so I couldn't bare to be so sick again). We were excited and amazed that this was really happening to us!

Making it to 23 weeks wasn't easy but the boys were doing great! They were thriving! They were measuring the size of a singleton babies of their same gestational age. Every time we looked at them on ultrasound they were super active and kicking each other. Aaron said it looked like a hot tub party with arms and legs all over the place. My cervix had not changed a bit but my uterus sure was growing. At my 19 week appointment I was measuring 34 weeks pregnant (40 is full term), by 21 weeks I was over 36 weeks pregnant and I imagine when I delivered on Monday my uterus was around 38 weeks pregnant. Triplets are born, on average, at 32 weeks gestation. We made it to just over 23 weeks. Viability is medically agreed upon to be 24 weeks. That was our next major milestone.

Last Monday night I ended up getting very sick in the night, vomiting and body aches. It knocked any bit of energy I had right out of me. I had Aaron take me in on Tuesday morning to get fluids. They gave me two liters of fluid and sent me home (dehydration is a major cause for preterm labor so I needed to stay hydrated. I was already needing to drink over a gallon of water a day to keep up with the babies). The rest of the day I didn't leave my bed, same thing on Wednesday. The nurses said there was a GI bug going around but it was typically lasting 24 hours. By Wednesday night I felt well enough to take a bath. Around 11pm I noticed I had leaked some fluid and it was time to head back in to get checked out.

A very simple test, called a fern test, is used to determine whether or not the fluid leaking is amniotic fluid. They just wipe it on a glass slide and when it dries it has a fern pattern. The doctors looked at my cervix - still over 4, phew. They said I was probably just a little crampy from my uterus now being nearly full term and that would likely continue the rest of the pregnancy. The doctors and nurses were sure the discharge I had was likely not amniotic because there wasn't any more of it and it seemed too thick. We realized once we got home we never got the results back from the fern test. It was 2 a.m. when we came home and had already had a long week. Aaron gets up at 4:30 so we just went to bed.

Friday I stayed home and rested. I so badly wanted to make the trip to Mankato with Aaron for Andrew's Memorial but I had not been able to ride in a car for any length since early May and I couldn't risk it now. Saturday I finally felt good again. Until Saturday night. I hadn't left the house all week (except for the hospital) so I decided to go with Aaron to get some groceries. As I walked about 20 feet to the front door I knew I wouldn't be able to walk the grocery aisles. So I used the MartCart (aka "rascals")! It was hilarious. I got a lot of looks but oh well. We zipped through the store and got what we needed. That night by 11pm I was having discharge again and my already rock hard belly started contracting. We were headed back to the hospital.

After a long night the resident came in and said "I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry." The tests we had done had determined I was in fact leaking amniotic fluid and for the first time my cervix had shortened to 2.7 cm (which was still totally fine). I'm not sure it really hit us even then what was about to happen. When I had John I roomed with a woman who had a leak and they kept her in the hospital until she delivered nearly two months later. I thought, okay, I can sit in the hospital for 8 weeks. I can stand on my head for 8 weeks if I have to. This will be okay.

Before we knew it they had a neonatologist come in to speak with us about the probability of our babies living if we delivered and what our options were. It started to hit me then. Soon the Maternal Fetal Medicine doc on call came to consult with us. I asked him what the chances were that I would start to go into labor. He said there was a 70-80% chance that labor would start within a week. What I heard was "there's a 20-30% chance labor will not start." I would play those odds anytime - for things I can actually control. This, however, was not my call but I was naturally optimistic. He said we could be admitted and wait or we could go home - where ever we would be most comfortable and least anxious. That was home.

Sunday we tried to get some rest after a long week and another night without much sleep. We slept most of the day and Aaron proceeded to make a planned family dinner for Father's Day with my dad, mom, brother, and his dad. I got off the couch to eat for about 10 minutes and shortly after started cramping. I laid there until about 10:30 pm and knew it was time to go in. This time I knew I was staying at the hospital, one way or another. (They were not concerned with me moving around - membranes do not rupture prematurely because of physical activity but because there is an infection or something else biologically causing them to do so - this is what happened with John as well. We thought it was a fluke but are now wondering if it's something else). When I went back in the cramps were getting worse but my cervix had not changed. We still were not sure we were in labor. There was plenty of fluid around the babies and the were doing wonderful.

It wasn't long before I was having very strong contractions. They admitted me into a labor room and had me lay flat on the bed - no getting up - at all. We decided to start an aggressive antibiotic and fluid therapy to get the contractions to stop. If I could just get them to stop my cervix was still fine.

I was on a narcotic drip all night. It was enough to take the edge off but laboring flat on your back for 12 hours with three babies inside is tough. Really, really tough. I knew these contractions were too strong to not have an effect on my cervix. We met with the neonatologist again to make a plan (more on that later) if I did in fact deliver these babies. We were all cautiously optimistic that we could get the contractions to stop. I had a scheduled 7:30 am ultrasound and consult with my MFM doc. The plan was to check my cervix again to see if it was changing. If not, I was going to be wheeled up to my appointment. They didn't want to check too frequently because they feared introducing infection. The doctor checked me around 6:40 and immediately said, "I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry. I see the sac of baby A and you're dilated to 6." Just then the baby dropped and I need to push. They told me to hold off pushing (that's hard to do) until we got in the room. Good thing Aaron's a pro at changing into scrubs - he had about 30 seconds and we were literally running into the room with everyone trying to get their gloves on quick enough. Seconds later, baby A, Charlie was born. He had a faint cry and was put into our arms. We didn't know how long we had with him so I baptized him. He was with us for two hours while we laid there waiting.

The plan was to deliver A and then wait to see if labor could be stopped. There are cases where one twin is delivered and then the uterus stops contracting enough to keep the other baby in for several weeks. We were going to wait for an hour. If the contractions went away they would stitch my cervix and I would try and get the other two further along. For about 40 minutes it seemed as though this may be an option. Then the contractions kicked up again. I labored holding Charlie for 4 more hours as the other two lowered in the uterus. Our deacon was with us during the next few hours and was ready to baptize the other boys.

Baby B, Cal, was next to come. He was breech. Within five minutes, Baby C, Harry had arrived as well. By this time our family members were at the hospital. We were wheeled back with the babies, Harry still alive, so they would get a chance to see and hold our beautiful boys.

The boys stayed with us, wrapped in their receiving blankets for the rest of the day. They were put in a bassinet together and stayed with us in our room until morning. It was a precious experience. They looked so perfect. They looked like their brother John. They were all so, so beautiful.

That is what happened. There are more posts I will make about our decisions and all the wonderful people that helped us out that day and the agony of what we're experiencing.

I'm writing this blog for information but also for our healing and for helping others who may be going through the same thing. I followed a lot of triplet blogs during my pregnancy and they were unbelievable helpful in knowing someone else had walked in my same shoes.

Aaron and I now know there are a lot of people who have experienced the loss of a child. If anything, we have learned there are too many. On Monday we didn't just lose our boys, we lost our reality, we lost our future as we had been preparing, and we lost a lot of dreams we had. I know we will be fine. We are surrounded by love and so thankful for that. Life will go on and as Father Nick says, we will learn to walk with a limp.

Calling My Children Home

There will be a private burial service for family on Thursday the 17th in Mantorville. The boys will be buried together next to my grandma Jean. We welcome friends to join us from 3-7pm on Thursday at my sister's home (where the wedding was -directions below). Please know we would love to see you - it has been so comforting to hear from you and we appreciate every message we have received.

Our boys are so lucky to have such a talented and loving father. He is in the garage now making their casket. He has a beautiful piece of curly cherry that he has been waiting for the right project to use. This is it. While he won't have much time to make it intricate in true Aaron fashion, it will be absolutely perfect.

There are songs that make up the soundtrack of our life. All day yesterday I had the Emmylou Harris song "Calling My Children Home" playing in my head. As part of our own healing we will continue to update the site with our story. Thank you again for all the prayers.

Directions:
http://www.mapquest.com/maps?city=Mantorville&state=MN&address=60452+260th+Ave&zipcode=55955-7056&country=US&latitude=44.074872&longitude=-92.718278&geocode=ADDRESS

With heavy hearts.....

This morning Aaron and I welcomed three beautiful baby boys into this world, however, their arrival came too early for them to survive much more than a few hours with us.

Charles (Charlie) Monroe Mueller was born at 6:45 this morning. His brothers Calvin (Cal) Joseph Mueller and Harold (Harry) Chris Mueller arrived at 10:45 am and 10:50 am. Charlie and Harry were with us for nearly two hours while Cal hung on for 30 minutes.

The boys were born at 23 weeks - 3 days on the morning of June 14th; we did not intervene and they died peacefully in our arms. They were all perfectly healthy and beautiful - just born too soon to have a fair chance.

Kellie should be leaving the hospital sometime in the morning to head home. We will post more about the pregnancy and the events leading up to their birth as the week goes on. Any thoughts or comments can be posted on this site - we will be checking it often. Right now we are heart broken and we need our privacy. We appreciate all the love and support of our friends and family.