SOMETIMES we hear laughter, other times fits of frustration coming from the circle of 21. Parents, brave ones, are discussing a life that must seem like a horror show to some people: triplet-rearing. The baby stages. It doesn’t get more hardcore than the ‘It’s Mine! Conflict Resolutions’ workshop at a Washington hotel, where there are triplets and quads from 28 states and Puerto Rico.
‘‘Hi, I’m Jennifer (Fisher) from Princeton, New Jersey.’’ She quickly begins: ‘‘One is the loudest and maybe the…ruler. The other is complicated…Oh my God, I love her with all my heart, but she pushes my buttons. Feisty.’’ Two of the triplets pair up, leaving an odd toddler out. And as with many multiple-birth households, chief communication methods among two-year-olds can get brutish: biting and yanking ponytails. ‘‘Have they drawn blood yet?’’ asks a mother. ‘‘Broken skin,’’ says Fisher. ‘‘Yeah, had that yesterday.’’
This past weekend, the 116 families at the annual Triplet Connection convention, dubbed ‘Kids in the Capital’, have been sharing tales of a triplet and sometimes quadruplet kind: The vomiting chain reaction. The eccentric kid who says, ‘‘Sorry, I’m going to bite you!’’ Then chomp.
But ask Janet Bleyl, founder of the Utah-based Triplet Connection, and it’s ‘‘three times the love and hugs’’. She started the non-profit after giving birth to identical triplets 22 years ago, back when information on multiple births was limited and the ordeal of premature deliveries — hers came 10 weeks early — was perhaps more wrenching than it needed to be. Now, the organisation works with more than 35,000 families; about 1,500 more expectant parents join each year, says Bleyl, a mother of 10. It has a scientific advisory board of physicians who give practical information to balance the gloom-and-doom speech from other doctors.
‘‘I couldn’t be happier in life, and it’s sad because babyhood is going to end,’’ she says. She had every intention of going back to the office, back to the 40 hours a week, and gave it up with no apologies. She had about 100 hours of hired help a week in the triplets’ first six months, making the experience less chaotic.
At Triplet Connection convention, parents exchange thrice-learnt lessons in child-rearing |
Ryan McNicholas, 18, wears a ‘Quad Squad’’ shirt that boasts a blue letter ‘B’ like a jersey numeral. He was second out of the womb. Then we see brother Connor, slightly thinner, sporting ‘D’ and then the sisters, Lindsay and Brynn. The McNicholas kids represented five per cent of their high school graduating class in Ohio, and, boy, were they popular. And now: ‘‘Four different colleges, four different states,’’ says their mother, Phyllis McNicholas. ‘‘It’s going to be really crazy for me…’’
LAT-WP