Daddy Lesson #1: Expect the Unexpected
While raising my 5 year-old son Alex, I've come to realize that one of the great joys of parenting is teaching your child new things. Whether it's how to swing a bat or recognizing a lower case letter, there's so much joy that comes from witnessing the light of understanding beaming from your child's eyes.
Case in point: just yesterday, the world's number one Pirate fan pointed out a Pirate flag in a book we were reading, at which time I mentioned that it's called a "Jolly Roger". Alex didn't seem to be paying much attention at the time, as he had already begun asking me another question about what we were reading. But, sure enough, when we came across another picture of a Pirate flag a few pages later, he immediately noted, "There's a Jolly Roger".
That's my boy.
On the flip side, I've learned something else, too: That oftentimes, your child (or children, for a little foreshadowing), ends up teaching you. In the most recent case, it's a life lesson on expecting the unexpected.
Case in point: March 29, 2007.
What began as a normal work day day for this well-organized and somewhat "controlling" attorney rapidly unraveled into chaos which ended with - well, you'll soon learn how it ended.
Laura was in her 31st week of our twin pregnancy, and we arrived at Antenatal Services for our regularly scheduled ultrasound appointment at 9am. Mind you, this was just a blip on the radar screen for me (although a blip that was much anticipated as we both obviously received great enjoyment from seeing the babies) in what was a pretty busy day, full of professional engagements but thankfully no court appearances. We were both looking forward to seeing how the babies were developing and documenting their continued growth, as last month we had learned that each twin weighed approximately three pounds.
Before getting the ultrasound, however, Laura was scheduled for an NST test which measures both babies' hearbeats as well as their fetal movements. After fitting Laura with the monitoring equipment, the nurse also fixed a strap across her belly which measures contraction activity.
Our nurse tried in vain for about an hour to detect both fetal hearbeats at the same time. It seemed that after finding both heartbeats, they would then lose one of the hearbeats. The machine was also picking up Laura's hearbeat instead of one of the baby's heartbeats. For a time the machine only registered the heartbeat of one baby.
Interestingly, one of the nurses noted that the machine standing next to Laura's chair, which was collecting data on the heartbeats, fetal movement, and any contractions, indicated that Laura appeared to be having contractions. Approximately 6 minutes apart.
"Is that what they feel like?", Laura asked genuinely. With our first child, Laura was not blessed to have experienced the pains of labor, as Alex's birth was quick and uneventful.
After calling in another nurse to assist, and not having any luck getting both heartbeats at the same time, a doctor was finally called. Immediately after reviewing the machine's readout, we were ordered to travel across the street, STAT, to attempt to rule out the fact that Laura was in labor.
Off to Underwood Hospital we went, hoping that today was not going to be the day that our twins entered the world. That would make them 2 months early, as our due date was May 29th.
The walk over to Underwood's emergency room was quick - the Antenatal Unit is right around the corner - and we were attended to immediately. Now, at this point my mind is starting to race a little. I'm thinking of my wife, and I'm concerned because she's telling me that the contractions ("Now I know what they feel like!") are not going away. I'm thinking of all the things on my work schedule that may not get attended to. I'm happy that I decided last week to keep my new camera in the back of the car.
The Underwood nurses hooked Laura up to another machine, and now Laura is banging out contractions like a pro. At this point, things started to go downhill quickly.
We are told that Laura's cervix is dialated 1 - 2 centimeters.
Contractions keep coming. Quicker, and more painful. By 1pm, Laura is having contractions every minute and is now 2-3 centimeters dialated. The doctors are pumping medicine into Laura to try to stop the contractions.
The medicine is not working.
By now I have broken out my cell phone and called everyone on our VIP list to let them know that today may be the day. In fact, I tell some of them in no uncertain terms that it looks like today will be the day. I notice that I'm shaking a bit and when I speak, I sound like a voice on a tape in fast-forward.
At 1:30pm. we are told that Laura is being transferred to Pennsylvania Hospital, since they have a world-class neonatal unit. This makes me feel somewhat more comfortable.
My wife, on the other hand, is in the throws of labor. She's in agony.
We're at Pennsylvania Hospital, and people from our VIP list begin showing up. Laura's mother-in-law, my father and step-mother. Laura's best friend Tricia.
A doctor is speaking with us. "You're 3 centimeters dialated. If you get to 5, they're coming. We're going to try to stop the labor, but if they want to come, they're coming."
Laura and I exchanged nervous glances. We knew that at 31 weeks pregnant, we were only 4 weeks premature of the "average" twin pregnancy gestation, 35 weeks. Survivability should not be an issue, but complications very well could be.
We figured if it happens, it happens.
It happened.
At 6:17pm we welcomed Jacob Matthew Manganello into the world. At 6:19pm, his brother Joshua Micah Manganello was born.
The statistics:
Jacob Matthew Manganello, 4 pounds, 5 ounces, 17 1/2 inches, lots of dark hair
Joshua Micah Manganello, 4 pounds, 18 inches, lots of dark hair.
Mommy and the children are resting comfortably, and both babies are perfectly healthy. The children will be spending some quality time in the NICU for a few weeks, after which we - and their big brother Alex - will welcome them home.
Case in point: just yesterday, the world's number one Pirate fan pointed out a Pirate flag in a book we were reading, at which time I mentioned that it's called a "Jolly Roger". Alex didn't seem to be paying much attention at the time, as he had already begun asking me another question about what we were reading. But, sure enough, when we came across another picture of a Pirate flag a few pages later, he immediately noted, "There's a Jolly Roger".
That's my boy.
On the flip side, I've learned something else, too: That oftentimes, your child (or children, for a little foreshadowing), ends up teaching you. In the most recent case, it's a life lesson on expecting the unexpected.
Case in point: March 29, 2007.
What began as a normal work day day for this well-organized and somewhat "controlling" attorney rapidly unraveled into chaos which ended with - well, you'll soon learn how it ended.
Laura was in her 31st week of our twin pregnancy, and we arrived at Antenatal Services for our regularly scheduled ultrasound appointment at 9am. Mind you, this was just a blip on the radar screen for me (although a blip that was much anticipated as we both obviously received great enjoyment from seeing the babies) in what was a pretty busy day, full of professional engagements but thankfully no court appearances. We were both looking forward to seeing how the babies were developing and documenting their continued growth, as last month we had learned that each twin weighed approximately three pounds.
Before getting the ultrasound, however, Laura was scheduled for an NST test which measures both babies' hearbeats as well as their fetal movements. After fitting Laura with the monitoring equipment, the nurse also fixed a strap across her belly which measures contraction activity.
Our nurse tried in vain for about an hour to detect both fetal hearbeats at the same time. It seemed that after finding both heartbeats, they would then lose one of the hearbeats. The machine was also picking up Laura's hearbeat instead of one of the baby's heartbeats. For a time the machine only registered the heartbeat of one baby.
Interestingly, one of the nurses noted that the machine standing next to Laura's chair, which was collecting data on the heartbeats, fetal movement, and any contractions, indicated that Laura appeared to be having contractions. Approximately 6 minutes apart.
"Is that what they feel like?", Laura asked genuinely. With our first child, Laura was not blessed to have experienced the pains of labor, as Alex's birth was quick and uneventful.
After calling in another nurse to assist, and not having any luck getting both heartbeats at the same time, a doctor was finally called. Immediately after reviewing the machine's readout, we were ordered to travel across the street, STAT, to attempt to rule out the fact that Laura was in labor.
Off to Underwood Hospital we went, hoping that today was not going to be the day that our twins entered the world. That would make them 2 months early, as our due date was May 29th.
The walk over to Underwood's emergency room was quick - the Antenatal Unit is right around the corner - and we were attended to immediately. Now, at this point my mind is starting to race a little. I'm thinking of my wife, and I'm concerned because she's telling me that the contractions ("Now I know what they feel like!") are not going away. I'm thinking of all the things on my work schedule that may not get attended to. I'm happy that I decided last week to keep my new camera in the back of the car.
The Underwood nurses hooked Laura up to another machine, and now Laura is banging out contractions like a pro. At this point, things started to go downhill quickly.
We are told that Laura's cervix is dialated 1 - 2 centimeters.
Contractions keep coming. Quicker, and more painful. By 1pm, Laura is having contractions every minute and is now 2-3 centimeters dialated. The doctors are pumping medicine into Laura to try to stop the contractions.
The medicine is not working.
By now I have broken out my cell phone and called everyone on our VIP list to let them know that today may be the day. In fact, I tell some of them in no uncertain terms that it looks like today will be the day. I notice that I'm shaking a bit and when I speak, I sound like a voice on a tape in fast-forward.
At 1:30pm. we are told that Laura is being transferred to Pennsylvania Hospital, since they have a world-class neonatal unit. This makes me feel somewhat more comfortable.
My wife, on the other hand, is in the throws of labor. She's in agony.
We're at Pennsylvania Hospital, and people from our VIP list begin showing up. Laura's mother-in-law, my father and step-mother. Laura's best friend Tricia.
A doctor is speaking with us. "You're 3 centimeters dialated. If you get to 5, they're coming. We're going to try to stop the labor, but if they want to come, they're coming."
Laura and I exchanged nervous glances. We knew that at 31 weeks pregnant, we were only 4 weeks premature of the "average" twin pregnancy gestation, 35 weeks. Survivability should not be an issue, but complications very well could be.
We figured if it happens, it happens.
It happened.
At 6:17pm we welcomed Jacob Matthew Manganello into the world. At 6:19pm, his brother Joshua Micah Manganello was born.
The statistics:
Jacob Matthew Manganello, 4 pounds, 5 ounces, 17 1/2 inches, lots of dark hair
Joshua Micah Manganello, 4 pounds, 18 inches, lots of dark hair.
Mommy and the children are resting comfortably, and both babies are perfectly healthy. The children will be spending some quality time in the NICU for a few weeks, after which we - and their big brother Alex - will welcome them home.