2Dads+4 Kids have to dance

There are so many things going on right now, i need to write, I need to write and I need to write more. For now this is all I have

5 minutes of chaos

After "you have your hands full" which is the comment #1 about our family, the question, How you guys doing, it's the most frequent. It's such a wide open question that after thinking a few seconds or many long minutes the answer is always the same: WE DONT KNOW HOW WE DO IT, WE DONT THINK ABOUT IT, WE JUST DO IT. 

 The key to keep our family manageable is to have a schedule and some planning ahead. There are two things our children cant tolerate at all, hunger and tiredness. So if we feed them and put them to sleep on schedule most of the day can go very smoothly until it won't. 

Today somebody decided to save some formula, because, sometimes, they can left one or two ounces or even more. Guess what, you never can save on formula, its a bad idea. You can save at the wrong moment and that can affect the feeding schedule for the entire day.

I was feeling a little slow because I had a visit to the dentist and they numbed my left side of the mouth to do some deep cleaning. So I was half here, half in venus. 

It is about dinner time, kids are in their chairs by the pool, Patrick started to prepare rice (don't ever let a white boy cook rice, ok?) so i said: since they are behind in their schedule, we should start preparing their last bottle now. Patrick said: lets give them a bath first. Here we go... I though... I can see it coming...

Bathing triplets is like factory assemble line. Everything need to be done in an order so you don't forget to clean one ears or wash another's head twice. As soon as we placed the babies in our bed (that is where we start the process) they started to cry, why? because they are hungry.

In the meantime Lorenzo is going thru a new phase, he closes every door he find in his destructive toddler path. So here I am Preparing 3 bottles at light speed, checking on the, now abandoned, rice still cooking in the stove, opening doors that Lorenzo close immediately after I passed them. "Oh no! Lily has a rash in her butt" I hear from Patrick in the other side of the house."Bring me the butt cream with the blue cap" he ask with urgency, I am still working on the bottles, the cereal we add to their night bottle is empty, so I need to open a new box, but Patrick need towels this time, then he question me why the bottle are not ready yet, I run back to the kitchen for the 4th time, I stand in the middle of the kitchen and I think. What am I doing here? oh yeah the bottles, then I prepare the baby bottles. I finish the bottles, wait, these are the wrong nipples! cereal formula require nipples #3, I have to remove the nipples #2, clean the mess of formula spilling all over, put the new nipples (this is all 3X ok, don't ever forget that part), wait, I left 2 babies in the bed with not supervision, I run back to the bedroom, open the door that Lorenzo closed again, babies are ok, they are screaming like little piglets but they are safe, I run to their nursery to prepare their cribs and dispose their dirty diapers, Lorenzo is disposing some new baby hats he found in a drawer (he is so quick) I remove the hats from the trash can, Patrick is asking again for the butt lotion for Lilly, I can't find it. So I am ready to dress the already bathed babies, OMG, the rice! Run over there and just started to laugh, not like a nice healthy laugh but more like a maniac, psychopath kind of laugh. The I hear patrick screaming "Lorenzo get out of here!!! OMG OMG OMG" - he is washing Liam's head in the sink, Lorenzo is "reorganizing" the cabinet underneath- "the baby is peening on Lorenzo head!!!". And it is only 5 minutes since Patrick decided to give the babies a bath off schedule. 


How we do it? You tell me how we do it. And please don't get confuse, we are not looking for advice. Pleeeease do not give me any advise on this. The lady with the black cat that used to do that, was permanently blocked. (referring to my FaceBook page follower)

Right now, Lorenzo is taking a quiet bath, babies are sleeping and the house is very quiet, I am writing this and preparing to see the last season of Breaking Bad.

Tomorrow all these memories are gone and we are already collecting new ones.

Have a good night.

I was not supposed to be a Father

Growing up with wrong beliefs took me into a path of challenging relationships and the ultimate misconception about parenthood.

I grew up listening to people’s stories, many of those stories were telling me I would never be able to be a father, to dig even further, some of those stories made me believe I would never be able to love or be loved.In one of those memories I was about 12 years old, I played these sexually charged games with a cousin of the same age, regardless of being so young and having little understanding of feelings, for me that was a relationship. I felt a deep, passioned, love for him. One day we were talking, away from the adults, having our own serious conversation. He said, “You know Juan, because you are this way (gay) you will never have anybody to love you. But me… on the other hand (he never considered himself gay even if he always started to play those games), I will get married, I will find the woman of my dreams and one day I will marry her. We will be at church getting married and you will be sitting in the last row, crying for me, because you love me, but I don’t love you”

I believed him.

I believed my cousin because I loved him, I trusted him and I admired him. What he was saying was painful, but I chose to believe not only because he was right, I was in love with him and he was not, but because his prediction was also supported for many other stories that I was told about been gay and been a sinner.

I agreed.

I made an emotional agreement with myself, that I believed I was not worthy of love.That twelve-year agreement that I made had a great impact on my emotional and psychological life. At that age, after my sexual discovery and the conflictive Catholic believe system that was imposed by my parents; which undoubtedly determined I was a lost soul and I was going to hell, I was ignited to a whole new way to cope with life. The strong belief that I was condemned even when I was the best student at catechism school vs. the strong desire to be a good person and to make my parents proud of who I would become. The conflict, between who I thought I was and who I wanted to be, became so strong and tangible that I started to play the role of the person that everyone wanted me to be, keeping my secret life separate.

I learned to lie.

At one point my facade didn’t work any longer. Teenagers were getting stronger and successful at soccer and I was this rachitic, weak, big teeth kind of kid. My years of high school were hell. I learned to hate my bullies and to build a wall around me to keep everybody away.

I was bitter.

When I left the small town for college I became a time bomb. I wanted to experience everything. I leaned about existentialism and for the first time I didn’t feel alone, there were other people like me. The darkness was a place in which I could survive after all. My desire to please those who considered me less than human were gone. It was the 80’s baby and I was ready to learn how to party. I felt so free, scared but free. Why bother trying to be a good person? I was going to hell anyway. Why even consider finding a nice guy for a relationship if I would never be able to be loved?

I was determined to live my life at the edge. Chasing for pleasure and danger–anything that make me feel something.

I was super intelligent, creative, charismatic and talented yet my cousin’s voice was always in the back of my mind whispering to me that I would never be loved.

My path of auto-destruction lasted for about 30 years, I wouldn’t attribute all of it to this childhood conversation, which only represented my first love lesson. Others’ wicked beliefs added compiled along the way, well organized and purified to the core were a big part of my ever growing shield as well.

At one point in my life my mother told me: when are you going to give me a grandchild? She said that with shyness and almost jokingly, I looked at her and said, “why should I bring a child to an overpopulated world? No way. That answer probably reminded her of a conversation we had few years earlier when I was a kid.

She hung clothes in the backyard as I , frustrated, after trying to play a complicated game I just invented with my 4 siblings, who were younger than me said to her, “why did you have so many kids? We don’t have enough toys, we will never have good opportunities in life, we are stuck…”

She just kept hanging her laundry.

For me,my short answer,as I would come to understand a few years later, was to cover my unequivocal belief that I wasn’t good enough to be a father, I was unable to have any relationship and mostly, because I was gay and I would never change.

When my partner proposed to have children 25 years later, my very first and visceral answer was NO. No, no and no! Besides, what a selfish idea. Bring children that are never going to have a mother. That’s plain wrong. A mom is everything, they take care of us, they nurture us, they don’t answer us when we talk shit, they hang our clothes. A mom is irreplaceable!

Then my partner said, there are different kinds of families, some families don’t have a mom, but if there is love, there is a family. He didn’t try to be pushy with me, but he planted a bug in my mind. The bug grew quickly because of its simple architecture. Any time I prayed or meditated that simple idea, the bug, was always there, intact, impeccable and pure.

Okay, I thought, a kid may not require a mom in order to be happy, since it would be impossible to miss one if he never knew what it was to have a mom. In my book, my mom mainly provided love, and I have love to provide. Now. She is a female… well, I never loved my mom for her gender, I love her for the love she gave me. But could I provide that quality of love? That infinite unconditional love I felt from her? Am I even able to provide any kind of love? I was ready to accept the proposition but there were something missing. I wanted to be sure I was equipped with good knowledge and the right values to form my future son into an emotionally balanced, happy person.

In one of my meditations I had this very loud image. Do you really think human kind depends on their parents’ abilities only? Do you really think kids are the takers and fathers are the givers? Well, think again. Yes, you have to physically protect and feed those children but during the process of raising them, who teaches more? Who provides more in the feeling department?

I had an aha moment.

For the first time I have considered that children are not only here to receive, they are here also to help us to grow and to provide us with a new set of feelings and strengths we would never have without them.

Then I was ready to be a father.

Those old wrong ideas, and lies about myself were gone after I discovered how much passion I had for my children and family. All those sleepless nights and hard work with my partner had endure our relationship. I remained teachable and open to receive what today are the greatest loves of my life. They teach me I am a strong person, I am nurturing and unconditionally loving.

When I talked to my mother about how wonderful was to be a father she said, in a very calm manner: Everybody deserve to feel what it is to be a parent.

P.S.

The irony.

A few months ago I received a message from my cousin’s sister, asking me about how we had our children, because his brother, my cousin, the guy that was supposed to be forever happy, and his wife of 16 years are still unsuccessfully trying to be parents. I thought how ironic.

I found so much gratitude from the end of this story. I smiled to myself knowing that the lies about me and the agreement was finally buried forever.

No Hope

A raw personal story about addiction, recovery and surrogacy. 

My entire body is in pain, I am barely walking by the side of the road, and I can feel every single piece of gravel imbedded in my feet, and it hurts. I’m thirsty, tired, confused and awfully lost. I want to get rid of all of these feelings, yet I don’t have any energy left, except for one last impulsive idea; a black, shiny and heavy semi-truck heading my way and nobody watching. For a fraction of a second I think, if I jump now it will stop, all this pain and misery will stop. That was my only solution at the moment, but for some unknown reason I didn’t obey my thoughts. Instead I walked slowly, picked up a half of a cigarette that somebody threw on the ground, lit it up and kept walking. I didn’t feel any relief for not killing myself that night because I knew sooner or later an overdose or an angry drug dealer would do the job. I was hopeless and I was convinced that for me, at 40 years old, my life was over.

I couldn’t understand how I got there. Only a few months ago I was drinking champagne with a friend on top of Montjuic Hill, in the Palau Nacional, in Barcelona, while listening to an impeccable orchestra and thinking, there is nothing better than this! I felt like I was at the pinnacle of the world and nothing would bring me down. But this night, I was walking at the side of the road, lost.

A few days later, after my miserable attempt to finish my life, I was done. I was ready to ask for help and to accept I would never be able to stop using drugs by myself. All I wanted at that point was not to die. I didn’t want my career back. I didn’t want my house back or my belongings back. I was desperate and I didn’t want to die. I went to my first Narcotics Anonymous meeting, and from there everything traveled uphill. This time it wasn’t a materialistic hill, like I had always thought was the solution to any problem. This time it was a journey of self-discovery, and the beginning of a connection with a power bigger than myself.

This time the growing was from the inside out. Something I never felt before.

After two years in recovery, free of Alcohol and Drugs, I met my partner, Patrick. We met like most guys met these days, online. I didn’t have any expectations of finding a partner, and all I wanted was a distraction for the night. In fact, I was praying a few days before, asking God to help me not to get into another relationship. At this time I wanted to take a nice break and enjoy my “solo” time.

Well, once again, things didn’t go my way.

Patrick and I dated for about a year, following the suggestion of my NA sponsor. After a year of getting to know each other, we were ready to commit, and we moved in together. My partner, which is the opposite of me, had a very organized and stable life. One day, he told me he had always wanted to be a father. I heard that like somebody was telling me, one day, I would like to be a Hollywood star.

Three months later, I was helping him paint the new house which he had just purchased, and I found him painting one of the guest bedrooms in a pale green color. It wasn’t a lime-green or rich kelly green, but one of those soft watercolor greens that makes you grit your teeth. I asked him why he was using that color, and he responded softly and quietly. “Oh, because this is the baby’s room. This is the nursery.”

The room spun. I felt like he was pushing me away. I had never considered a situation like this, in any relationship. I was in love with him, and I was hoping for our relationship to last. He was determined to have children. He had a visual board with pictures of pregnant women tacked to it. Rickey Martin and his children smiled back at me, among others.

After meditating, praying, and talking to my close friends, I came to the conclusion that I couldn’t be just a witness of how he would create his progeny. I needed a clear position on the family situation. There were two possibilities:
To leave. To refuse to have a relationship with someone determined to have children by himself.
To stay and to be involved 100% of the way.

My decision was to stay. He is the love of my life, and I am in all the way. He was generous enough to let me into his life, and to share his dreams with me. A few days later we both were learning about surrogacy, egg donors, and adoptions laws. What amazed me the most was as soon as I accepted the possibility of becoming a parent, something clicked in my brain. I started to fantasize about having a son. I thought about teaching him to build tree houses and cardboard houses, (I’m an architect) and it felt good. I was excited!

We both become the sperm donors and we purchased eggs from an anonymous donor, (they should not be called donors since they charge a lot of money) we flew to L.A. and started our surrogacy journey.

A year later, after a series of trips, and a lot of baby gear shopping, I flew to San Diego, and waited until our surrogate called us. Our baby was coming! We rushed to the hospital, excited, scared, and overwhelmed. We waited for hours in the delivery room. It was awkward because by the end of the pregnancy, we were having a complicated relationship with our surrogate. All of us were ready to finish the deal and run away from each other. However, we remained polite and grateful. A group of nurses and doctors entered the room and while they were preparing her for delivery, they asked me if I wanted to receive the baby. I wasn’t sure what they meant, but I say yes. I thought they would hand me the baby, all clean and dressed, and I would smile for the picture. Well… no, I was wrong in the second part, because they handed me the baby but just straight from the womb, a baby still connected to her body by the umbilical cord, a baby time with all sort of fluids and textures.

I almost passed out. As soon as I looked at my son, I cried. I sobbed. I can’t explain my emotions. His birth was a symbolic and emotional rebirth for me. After my partner cut the umbilical cord, they moved our baby to a table where they cleaned him and checked him to make sure he was healthy. From the table he wailed, and I knew it was a good sign for a newborn. He looked so vulnerable. He was alive, yet fragile, and I couldn’t avoid feeling his pain as my own. I put one of my fingers close to his hand, instinctively, to help him and he grabbed it, he grabbed my finger very hard. In that moment I felt a strong connection, an unbreakable connection. I also felt how that little hole I had left in my soul was closing forever. I felt strong and ready to dedicate the rest of my life to the well-being of this child, my child.

Today I believe something bigger than me stop me from jumping into that truck, something bigger than me took me from my path of auto-destruction and place me into a path of recovery and decided that my purpose in life was to rise 4 beautiful children of my own and to have a full life.

Today I have hope.

I am getting published by other than myself

I am a bit nervous, tomorrow is a big day to me. I'm going to be published in English language for the first time. For this immigrant, who learned to speak the language only a few years ago, to become a writer is a very big deal.  I've always loved to write in my native language and I’ve always dreamed with writing a book; today I can feel that moment is getting closer. I am fortunate to have a couple of wonderful people who encourage me and tell me what I write matters, and grammar? Oh that is something anybody can fix for you... 

It has been a while since I wrote anything in the blog. I get so busy building our FaceBook Page, it takes a lot of effort to get some 600 followers. The results are overwhelming to me. I just discovered people really love baby stuff. 70% of my audience are females which tell me about women preferences and it build in my a new kind of respect for the opposite sex. 

I have people visiting the page from all over the world with an specific predominance of English speakers, Spanish goes second and some french got lost online and found my page too! 

Social Media is exciting, doing the right things and following a few rules you can get immediate results. Lots of instant gratification I must have to say. What can be better for this addict. However keeping an audience is a lot of work. Specially when the only subject is your own. 

These are exciting times! 

Our Facebook Page

It has been a while since I seat and write another post. I feel lazy and a lack motivation lately. I rather waste my time crashing candy on my iPhone or reading never-ending discussion on polemic subjects online than writing one word in my blog. I hate to admit it but I am lazy. On top of that I am always been excused by people for the fact I have triplets. They are telling me: you have your hands full, you have your hands full, you have your hands full . So sometimes I act like I have my hands full even when I don't. I lie to myself.

Anyway... I am also busy obsessing about our new FaceBook page, I count the Likes like drops, one by one, checkin the names of those who like the page, thinking on their motive to like it, trying to have a general picture of who like who doesn't, what friends does, why? what time? Jeez I am "incorregible"!

At times I freak out and I wonder if I am not exposing my family too much, putting all my precious babies pictures for everybody to watch. Why do I do it? Is it fame that I want? Is it money? is it just LIKES?

Well you know, sometimes I like to sabotage my own projects, I can have the most negatives observation and perception about myself. Through recovery I have learn that I can not trust my perception o judgement specially when is negatively self critical. I have to remember who I really am, what moves me, what is what make my life worth. I am one of those person that I can't enjoy anything without sharing the feeling with somebody else. I like to share my emotions with people, I like to share my secrets with people. I am extroverted. I can't enjoy a good meal without sharing, it take off the beauty of it. I can't enjoy the best time of my life and not share it with the universe.

Before, I had to hide myself because I couldn't tell who I was. It was not OK to be gay and to tell everybody and to even think in the possibility of having a family. I get used to hide, to change the subject, to distract people before they learn who I really was.

Today I don't feel the same way, I love who I am and who I have become, I love my life and I am not afraid to tell to anybody. I may be a little immature in the way I express myself but I don't care. Eventually i will adjust and act like normal.

So yes I want to scream I am gay!  I am a recovering addict! I am crazy! I have a loving partner! I have a beautiful family! I have my own children! I have a fucking Facebook Page to show the world my accomplishment. God gifts. The result of 4o+ years of going though pain and fear.

There is a superior motive, bigger than fame and Likes, there is me, this is me and this is who I am. I can take some cute pictures and make funny comments and make people follow me.  But most of all I can make for me what others can't do.

Sometimes I fantasize with a Reality Show of our own, but as soon as I visualize myself in front of the camera it scares the hell out of me. I don't think We could handle something like that. Many people told me, you can have your own show and it makes me think about it. But lets be honest. My family is special and extraordinary but is not so dramatic or grotesque or sophisticated enough to produce a show. We are too normal inside our home. People need drama, sorry we have not drama to offer. Just ordinary routine. If somebody can get excited by looking at 30 diapers changes per day or feeding 24 bottles then we have a show!


Now lets get back to business, did you check my Facebook page already? Isn't my son so adorable moving around that couch?

Facebook Posts

Facebook has officially become my social outlet, as miserable and as pathetic this may sound, its a reality for me. I can't go to places anymore like I did before and see my friends without planning and packing for 4 hours. If I get a babysitter I am really tired by 7PM anyway and I have been feedings all night long. So Facebook is my outlet to the world and I use it anytime I feel bored, I feel happy, I feel desperate or scared. I have an small group of followers that will respond and like my post within minutes and that is instant gratification for my confused mundane soul. 



Here I compiled my most "liked" posts for your enjoyment. 

Last feeding before going to bed. Then again, wake up at 3am, change, feed, burp and go back to sleep. My daily routine. Thanks to all my FB friend for all the support and good vibe, it feels I am doing this with a crowd and it feels alot better not to be alone.

June 10 -
If you have a toddler...
Rule #1 Always flash your toilet twice to decrease the amount of bacteria you toddle will ingest when he take a sip from it. 

Rule#2 Flash twice and remove any dog toys around the toilet and adjacent areas so you toddler don't use them to dip in and suck on it. They can be very resourceful.


June 5- 
I just told Patrick: "let me change my diaper and then i'll go to grocery store..." I need to sleeeep!

Rambo Moms

And there she comes, with all the latest baby gears, loaded with baby accessories like a Rambo and ONE single baby, she gave me the "watch out I am a new smart mom, a big deal mom" kind of look and all I can think is phsss I have 3 of those missy and half of the arsenal...


One thing that women own and defend is the fact that they can be moms. That is serious shit, their pride and prehistorical experience on that role is not something you are supposed to mess with. 

Anytime a female discovers my role as principal caregiver of 4 babies with the total absence of a female, I feel I have to go through a test. I am not going to denied it, sometimes I put myself in that position and sometimes I can feel the wave of emotions coming my way, it feels like their entire weaponry is pointed at me.

The look of disgust is the less common at least, but most of them are of pity. 
I can see how they shake their heads with their eyes. They are too smart to really shake their heads but not enough to hide the real feeling behind their expressions.
I think the real feeling behind is fear and defiance. - Who in hell do you think you are to come and take my place, the role I did so well for thousands of years and nobody else was able to  even think about taking?... This is my own nature you are insulting... 

And then is when all the unsolicited advice machine starts to shoot my way.  And yes they never had triplets but they took care of their cousin's irish twins, and you don't know how hard it gets later, and good for you! you must have your hands full. God BLESS you! (with special accentuation on bless) meaning: ha you don't know how much blessings you are going to need. And the spanish ladies? Oh well that is a whole new post... I don't know if that is because they are hispanic or because we are both latinos or just pure coincidence. But they are specially mean and eye rolling when they learn I am a gay men with children. 
I would just hope all these impressions are only in my head and none of these are real but my guts tell me: you are under test, watch out what you do or say. You are walking on sacred territory. Keep walking and don't look back cause they could cut your throat in a blink of an eye. 

The end of anonymity

If you didn't know, beside been a father of 4 and a gay men and a successful designer I am also a recovering addict. I think it is important to out myself because is important for me to be honest, live in the light and to be proud of who I am and where I am today. For those who don't know , addiction is not a character defect or a lack of willingness or a choice. Addiction is  a disease that involves the physical, mental and spiritual being.

I am not responsible for my disease since I didn't choose to have it but I am responsible for my recovery which I work on in a daily bases. I have been clean from drugs and alcohol since September 27, 2007. I count the days and the hours because I don't want to be in that place anymore. Desperation and fear of dead push me to seek recovery and today I live a happy, full, beautiful life.

I believe in outing myself because there are many addicts living in secret and thinking there is not a solution to their disease. If you are of of those you can be one of me. I don't have any special power nor strong will. Nobody has them. But I learned how to ask for help and that is the most powerful tool I have.

Many of my fellows recovering addict believe in anonymity, I don't. Anytime I keep it in secret to the world it put me in a place of feeling special, less than and not proud of who I am, addiction is part of who I am and it always will be, since this is a disease that has not known cure.

I have to teach my children a clear lesson of personal responsibility, honesty and love for who you are. By been open with the world about this, the fear is lifted, I don't have to hide and I don't have to talk quietly about it.

It is scary to show who you are in a world full of people who judge you and have erroneous opinions about addiction, where seems jail and institutions are the only answer for this system to stop addiction, where religions seems to be the only rule for many and those old books that many follow as the only truth.
But I have hope in my people, I believe there is a lot of good people in this world who speak for themselves and they can see the truth on their own ways.  Those are my friends, the people who help me everyday to keep going and support my family unconditionally. And those are the only people I care about and I need in my life.

If I treat my disease I can be so many things, good things. I can be a responsible member of this society, I can be a good partner, I can be a good friend, I can be a good son and most of it I can be a good FATHER! And I said it loud because I love being a father! It is the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me and I want to celebrate and communicate that feeling everyday.

I am grateful today because of the life I got to live and I have to be very honest about this, all I have today is the direct result of recovery. Everything!

Before recovery  not only that I have lost all of my material belongings, professional career, family and friends by I lost myself. I forgot who i was and  I was convinced that that was it, that that was the life I was destined to have and that I will soon died.

But there is breaking point, one day I woke up and I said is enough, this cannot be. I want to live! and I was ready to get the help I needed it. That awakening is a mystery, I don't know how that happens, under what circumstances or what every person needs to happen, but it did. I only know who is behind that awakening, the same who was behind any time I put myself at risk and saved my life. That is what many call God. Which for me has nothing to do with religion or the God people described to me. And why me I asked myself and many you may ask too. Well my only answer is; Why not?

We all has a purpose in life, and I believe is beyond our comprehension or personal desire sometimes. I took me 45 years or a crippled life in order to understand that, my purpose is to be who I am today, to help people, to help my 4 children become beautiful people, strong human beings, and perhaps their purpose is more elevated or significant of maybe their only purpose is to teach me the ultimate live experience. How to be a good dad.

I love you all. God bless you.

A Kid's Place

Since we had the triplets and our 18 months old son Lorenzo has changed dramatically, we decided it is time for him to go somewhere where he can socialize, learn to be more independent and also give us a damn break. Sometimes his whining and crying can drive us crazy!


I started  to search 2 weeks ago for the perfect daycare for Lorenzo, since I don't have any experience with this type of institutions and we are new in the area where we live, we had quite a few surprises.
I first research online using the keyword: Best Daycare in Valrico and I proceed to visit one by one following the list, then I research their website and look at the pictures. Most in florida is about the same, old houses transformed into daycares, filled with dirty and faded toys, colorful and dreadful carpets and a bunch of color prints on the walls what they call "Curriculum"
The "curriculum" for a toddle class is very funny:

1- Pooh Pooh - Potty Training
2- Play with a ball party
3- Hand paint
4- Nap Time
5- Book reading circle (reading of those monosyllabic written books)

A couple of places we visited were far apart from the rest but still not as convenience for their location and exorbitant high price, so before  choosing one of the fancy ones, I decided to stop by and take the "tour" at one place we saw anytime we drive by. This nice looking place is called A Kid's place, it's a new and warm looking building right off the route Patrick drives to work everyday so it will be convenient if he can drop off instead of me and my 3 new babies.

 I drove in and there was this wire metal fence around the building with a code pad in the gate, in front of me there is a car  which  is taking too much time to find the code apparently; while I wait I am thinking, this place is very serious about security. I love that for my kid! And this parent in front of me must be super busy, he can't find the code yet. Must be a lawyer for the way he dresses.
Finally the gate opens and I thinking I should just drive in to avoid the wait, then I thought, maybe I should ask first if it is ok to just stop by without an appointment. I don't want to give the wrong impression to my future son's teacher...
I hit the call button in the pad and I proceeded to explain to the lady at the speaker, I'm a parent with my kid , here with me now, and we are looking for a day care for him and I would like to take a tour of the facility, if that is ok of course. She said: Sir you don't want to drop your kid here, with this sarcastic kind of kinky voice... I am thinking what a bitch! if she would work for me I'd fire her immediately, she must be leaving her job today... Then I said- excuse me?  She said - Yes Sir, this is a FOSTER care facility, you don't want to drop off your child here and laugh....
Oh Snap! I felt totally stupid and laugh at myself but at the same time I felt grateful my child don't have to experience a place like that, even when it is a beautiful place.

Lesson learned: never judge a place for it name and pretty flowers at front...

I ended up enrolling my son in a real DAYCARE place called Kids R Kids. On tuesday I will prepare his bag and drop him off  in a place we thought it will never be an option for our precious kid, OMG how this happened to us. Too fast, too quick!


A Kid's Place, a licensed, residential group care provider, is a unique, state of the art, 60-bed facility for abused, neglected, or abandoned children. A Kid's Place has five 3,200 square foot homes, located on five acres in Brandon, Fl. We utilize a live-in house parent model which provides the children with consistency and simulates family living.

Lady please, stay away from my children and me.

At the mall with mom and children

Having triplets bring a lot of attention as many of you can imagine, my Facebook wall is full of ohh ahh awww cuuute, too cute... kind of comments. We received presents from people who we don't even know and you feel the TRIPLE love everywhere. But after the shock of this extraordinary moment has settle down and you make some time to see the dynamic of the people around us, oh boy... some of my friends came to my house and without even say hello they started to shoot their cameras and posting the pictures in FB; like there is not tomorrow.
Then this lady that I barely know send us 3 outfits in the mail that were too small already (premiere size are unreal) and she keep looking and asking for her outfits in every picture I post. Guess what Mrs Lady, we returned your tiny outfits and we traded in for formula, which is much more needed.

Now where the attention really  become a headache is during "The Mall experience". I am not naive and I knew that going to the mall with a triplet stroller and white baby triplets in it would be a reason to be profiled. However I never suspect it would be such a intense and never ending experience.

The Triplette from Peg Perego

Today I understand those Hollywood celebrities when they cover them self with huge sunglasses and seems they are always running in public and jumping into dark tinted glass SUV's.

The neverending people staring at you and your babies, asking questions or making comments or remarks in your face every 10 second is really overwhelming. I can actually count with my finger all the questions because they are all the same. People really expect you to stop and answer them every time.

My reaction to the first person I encounter in the Mall entrance was polite and even cool and I wanted to tell them the whole story of how we have triplets through surrogacy and that my partner was another man and so on... then the next person received a very abbreviated version of the previous story, with the third I just limited myself to respond with yes or no and to act like I was in a hurry, then the fourth interaction was just a simple and quick smile and I kept walking but turning my head because the lady at this point was following me and asking me more questions... are they yours? are they triplets? are they identical? how many girls and boys? the one with a bow is a girl? Are they natural? Are they NATURAL?? No, they are synthetic, all made in Korea. Trust me by the 6th and 7th person I was wearing my dark huge sunglasses and I was walking like I was deaf and very angry. Pretty much looking straight at front and never ever looking back again.

One lady screamed at me across the hallway -  I NEED TO SEE THOSE BABIES!!!!! but I kept walking in my direction while she stays there,  planted,  expecting me to stop and make her demand a reality. I clearly heard when she throw me a fit after she left and my partner said, I think you were a little rude with that lady. I thought, really? so you just scream to somebody and express what you want and you expect people stop for you without even asking politely? May I, Could you? Please...

So after my first Mall experience I had to make a decision on what to do next, my choices are:

1- Never go to a mall again and stay with 4 crying baby in my house until they don't need a stroller and go to college. 

or

2- Bring some aid with me to stop people of been rude or al least educate them that their questions are not very welcomed because they are all the same and they are formulated to us every 45 seconds. People don't see we are busy, we are not there for their entertainment, we are there because we need to shop or just because we need time out before we kill the performers of this show.

So I am planning to write a F.A.Q. sign for my stroller and save some time answering and showing people their question are not unique.

1. Are they triplets? A: Yes (and no, i don't run a childcare)
2. Are they 2 boys and a girl? Yes (Can you see their outfit colors and Lily's gigantic flower on her head? ) 
3. Are they yours? Yes, I paid for them (that is hard to prove since they are white babies)
4. How old are they? A: Realy? you make the maths, they were born April 1st. 
5. You must have your hands full... A: Not shit! I didn't realize that yet. 
6. Holy cow triplets??? A: yeah (Holy cow, you make another idiot asking the same question for the 10th time today) 
7. We only had twins in my family, never triplets .A: Oh... (so?) 
8. Are they natural? Yes they are all 100% natural. (their clothes are synthetic though) 
9. Are all identical? emmm no, only the boys (after they asked if they are boys and girls...
10. Can I touch them? A: No! (They usually go, he he he while the extend their hand to touch them and I firmly repeat -NO, really, you can't touch them. Long silence...- I am sorry.... and they go. 

Getting the Job done

It has been 73 days since my life have changed for ever. I am so tired and sleep deprived that I can only remember what happened between April and June because I keep posting every single thing i do in Facebook, which by the way, since Lorenzo was born, I declared my scrapbook.

I look at my scrap book and I can see how fast our triplets has grown, how much fatter and older I got and how smoothly my house become more chaotic and unexpectedly warm.

My job is to mainly take care of the triplets during the day and late night and to work from home for Graff3D, managing new projects and creating job proposals. Thank God my bosses are super flexible and I can do this in the remaining time.

My job description as a triplet caregiver is as follow:

I feed, I burp, I change and I put them back to sleep.

Same damn thing every 3-4 hours in the same order, from Monday to Sunday. I expend most of my time in franela short, bare feet and stretched Tshirts. If I go out I add a pair of Yoga-mat flip flops to my uniform. Thank God we live in Florida and short fits in all dressing code. 

Even if my job is always the same with my newborn, the joy and emotions are always growing making my life so full and dynamic. 

This InfoGraphic can describe better than words of what my life has become

Babies are here.

I feel standing in this infinite field of green grass, looking at a blurry horizont, with close fists and just waiting for life to change.

I am ready! Am I? I really don't know how much ready I am supposed to be. I may not know all the details of how to solve and provide for 4 babies in diapers but I know I have the courage to learn, fight and adapt. I guess yes, I am ready.

In the meantime I scape anytime I can and take picture of Lily, she is just magnificent! We are waiting for the twin boys to be release from the Hospital, we are waiting to be reunited as a family of 6 and then feel that our journey has began, but hey this is still the journey but seems so surreal because we are not in the same place at the same time. I guess all human needs this sense of belonging to a place in order to exist as a family.

The delivery was quick and dramatic. By the time we prepared an improvised bad with unnecessary things and left what was important and drove recklessly  to the Bayfront Children Place, the triplets were born.

Our surrogate broke water at around 6:30 am on April 1st and right when she started to push, the nurses knock her down with a sedative and took her to the operation room. They simply cut her belly and pull those babies out! It sounds brutal and not very romantic. But that is what it was.

Liam came first, then Lily and finally little Leo. The named them Baby A, B and C. The were between 2300 and 1900 gr. of weight and 34 weeks and 2 days.

We were the first male gay couple to cross the doors of All Children NICU claiming babies as their children. It was interesting to see all kind of reactions and a total lack of preparedness from the Hospital staff. I have to correct this lady in the reception desk that said to somebody else at the phone: "Here are the adoptive parents of the J.. triplets." while I was waiting to know where my children were after they took them from the operation room. Our surrogate husband was with me. I said: "Mom, there are our biological children, we are not adopting parents we are THE parents. Please be precise with your words" I felt right and fair. Also for J. who may felt uncomfortable after somebody was suggesting they were giving their children in adoption.

The nurses in the NICU were expecting us, good thing to have a friend that works there and she was able to announce our arrival and they got ready. However I learned that day that Social workers are watching like eagles who are getting in and out of the hospital.

We were not allow to see our precious babies until we were able to prove we were the parents. It took several discussion to make them understand this wasn't an adoption, we were bio parents and the surrogate wasn't their mom.  Until we said to the Social worker all perplexed, we got an egg donor, fertilize the eggs with our sperm and then transfer the embryo into our surrogate uterus.
In ordinary circumstances this can be very humiliating, but maybe because we have a thick skin about humiliation or because the emotion of being parents and have 3 healthy babies were so high. We really didn't care.  We just answered all the questions, give them the papers they wanted and 5 hours later we were walking into the place where we will met our triplets and stay day and night for the next 2 weeks.

They were separated in 3 different rooms. They were all wired and taped. They were red, the were small and almost transparent. There faces however were beautiful.

All the tension, anxiety, fears and stress from the past 10 months were absolutely gone when we were able to be there. Looking at our children. This small little things waggling and breathing.

In one point, just a few minutes later from our arrival, I found myself walking in and out from one room to the other, somehow trying to be with all of them at the same time. I felt confused. I needed to relate that feeling and behavior to understand what it was.

I remember one of our dogs having puppies and we as child moving their puppies in different places in the house to play and my dog going back and forth behind us, powerless, trying to keep them together. Thats the feeling! That is how I felt. Like a bitch trying to keep the litter together.

It has been 11 days since they discharged Lily from the NICU for been the heaviest and more mature of the three. I am staying at home with her and Lorenzo, our now 16 months old son. I can't stop staring at her, taking her pictures and trying to make any connection possible.  I feel such love already! Its so different to my older son however is not less or more intense.

I feel I am blessed, every day. I am totally blessed and don't even know why God chose me for this incredible journey. I don't need to know why. I am eternally grateful.

31 weeks

It has been so long since I wrote the last post. We are almost 31 weeks of pregnancy and our babies are about to born anytime now. In the last 2 months we expend the time getting the new house ready for this big change we can anticipate.
We painted all the interiors, replace and got some new furniture, set the Triplets nursery. Change our family/living room into a play room. Paint new art and decorate walls. And most important I renovated my office space which give me great pleasure and peace.

We choose a nice fresh green color and white 

We bought all the furniture and accessories from Ikea,
the curtain was the theme and inspiration to paint the walls

Detail of my wall painting 

Except for a few painting to hangs and some stuff to organize and clean we are ready!!!

Our surrogate has been in bed rest for several weeks now, she is doing great but she needed to stop working and stay calm in order to avoid complications on her own health. Baby are been monitored every week, they are healthy and growing well. They are very even in weight which is a good thing for multiple and we are expecting to have them at 34 or 35 weeks.

Lorenzo has officially started to walk and his personality is reshaping again. He is a little anxie about me and want to be hold and around me all the time. Quiet honest feels so good to be so important to somebody but after several hours of codependency my ego get diminished by a feeling of "trapped-ness"