Are you done?

{Side note...I was trying to do some Easter posts but photo loading is sssllllooowww tonight.) So instead, I present you, this. }

"How do you do it?"

"Is it crazy?"

"Do you ever sleep?"

"Are you going to have more kids?"

These are some of the most common things people ask me. I've addressed most of them in blogs before, but I've never addressed the last one.

Am I done having kids.... Most people ask in a way that suggests they know the answer. In fact, the question is often not even really a question. It goes something like this. "Wow, triplets huh? So you're done having kids then!" Or "2 boys and a girl? So you're done!"

Well, the simple answer to the question is "yes" I am done. But not for the reasons you'd think. The simple fact that I have triplets is not what has determined the finality of my baby-making years.

I would LOVE to have another baby. Yes, even with triplets. Kids make me happy. They keep me feeling young. They give me purpose. I would love an even bigger family.

The hubster?...not so much. Mostly because he realizes that there's no way we could afford another child right now. (Though I often tell myself we already own EVERYTHING a child needs..) :) But he's right, and I know he is. But that's hard for me to swallow. I often think to myself, "This is my only life. Have I done everything I'm supposed to do?" And I often feel like I was meant to have another baby.

Unlike friends who have 3 kids spread out over a few years, mine are all for one and one for all-as it relates to everything. So when the they all started crawling I had this pain in my heart knowing I'd never be able to watch a baby learn to crawl again. The same thing happened when they all outgrew their high-chairs. I knew it was the last time I'd have a highchair in my house for one of my kids. And as they all turned one, and then two, I once again felt this tug at my heart because my kids were growing up and I'd never get to experience these "baby" things again.

Now please, do not misunderstand. I LOVE my kids. I love them more than I've ever known how to express. Anyone who's struggled with infertility knows how the precious the gift of a baby is. I cherish my kids and I have made the most of every moment of our lives-good and bad. By no means am I upset that the Bunchkins are my ONLY kids and I do not want you to think I'm selfish. I AM happy and I am more content than I ever thought I'd be.

But sometimes life throws you some curveballs. About 7 months ago, in October 2010, I found myself in the Emergency Room with severe abdominal pain. I had absolutely no idea what was happening or why I was in such pain.

The long story short is that I was pregnant. (Yeah, yeah, put me on TLC's I didn't know I was pregnant" show. ) I guess when you try unsuccessfully for almost 4 years to get pregnant and go through 5 IVFs before it finally worked, you just don't think that it will ever happen to you.

Talk about a roller coaster of emotion. I recall vividly having one of the ER nurses ask me whether or not I could be pregnant. My exact response was, "If I were, it would be a miracle." So after some blood work and urine tests, the nurse returned to my curtained off room and says to me, "Well, miracles happen! You're pregnant."

I am no where near good enough a writer to describe what those words felt like to me at that moment. Honestly. Nurses were congratulating us, and probably reveling in my stupidity that surely "I could not be pregnant." This is one of those moments where true colors mean the most. It's one thing to say you want another baby, it's another thing when someone tells you you're having another baby that you weren't necessarily planning for. (And you have 1 and half year old triplets at home) They left us alone before our ultrasound and this is when I struggled with all the things I was feeling.

Part of me was in shock that I had actually gotten pregnant (with one fallopian tube, no less.)

Part of me felt guilty that I 'let this happen.' (because I was not taking BC)

Part of me was worried about what Brian would say.

Part of me was worried that everyone else would think I was careless and naive to have let this happen.

Part of me felt like I had betrayed the three babies waiting for me at home.

Part of me freaked out about how I would logistically have 4 babies.

And yes, a very big part of me was overjoyed at the thought of another little baby, the thought of being pregnant again, the thought of another little one calling me "Mama."

I give Brian a lot of credit here. He never faltered when we learned we were having triplets, and he never faltered when he learned of this new baby. I KNOW what his true feelings were and yet, he was never anything but supportive. He said, "Ami, we can do this." And that was the most relieving thing anyone could've said to me at that moment.

Not 30 minutes later, we were having an ultrasound to determine how far along I was (about 7-8 weeks) When you have triplets, you pretty much have an ultrasound every week so you start to know what you're looking at.

The ultrasound tech would say nothing. (As they are not allowed to). What he did say though was this- "Things don't look good."

And the roller coaster of emotions took a turn again.

"It's not in the uterus." And that's about all he would say.

Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.

"Is there a heartbeat?" I asked him. But again, he would say nothing.

"Brian, is there a heartbeat?" (because I knew he knew what to look for.)

"Yes. There's a heartbeat."

And that's when my own heart started to really hurt. Essentially, we had created a child, on our own, and it had only made it as far as my fallopian tube. It was an Ectopic Pregnancy and it could not be saved. Do you know what that felt like? A child we created that we would not be able to save, to watch grow, to raise as the 4th Bunchkin? What a terribly helpless feeling that was.

Not a half hour later, I was being taken into surgery because I was dangerously close to having that tube rupture, causing me to bleed out.

And so it goes....I now have no tubes left. I have no more chances of becoming a mother on my own and I am not prepared emotionally or financially to go through infertility treatments again.

So it is, I suppose, I was meant to be a mother of three. And that is the answer. I think about that little heartbeat often and I wonder who it would've become...These are things I'll never stop thinking about and will never forget.

But this is my life. I am a mother of triplets. And I am happy.

And yes, I am done.