Left Alone with Triplets, My Husband Walked Away – Our Paths Crossed Again Years Later

I remember staring at the bassinet, the fluorescent hospital lights reflecting on pale newborn skin, and wondering how I could possibly survive. My body ached from the C-section, my eyes were heavy with sleep deprivation, and my heart felt hollow in the spaces he left behind. Adam’s absence wasn’t just physical; it was a message that, in the earliest hours of our children’s lives, I was completely alone.

The nurses offered what help they could—buckling car seats, loading my cab, giving me quiet advice—but no one could fill the gap where he should have been. I remember gripping the steering wheel in the taxi, each car seat strapped behind me, silently promising the babies that I would not fail them.

Survival, One Bottle at a Time

The first weeks at home were chaos defined in ounces and cries. I learned quickly that feeding three babies at once wasn’t about logic—it was improvisation, endurance, and sheer stubbornness. One would wail in a bouncer, another flailed in my arms, and the third screamed from the bassinet while I tried to nurse, rock, and soothe all at once. Every hour felt like a test I was failing, yet I had no choice but to keep going.Continue reading…