web analytics
September 19, 2014 / 24 Elul, 5774
At a Glance
Sections
Sponsored Post
Apartment 758x530 Africa-Israel at the Israel Real Estate Exhibition in New York

Africa Israel Residences, part of the Africa Israel Investments Group led by international businessman Lev Leviev, will present 7 leading projects on the The Israel Real Estate Exhibition in New York on Sep 14-15, 2014.



Home » Sections » Family »

From The Greatest Heights (Part VII)

The best way to describe our emotions the morning of our major ultrasound was nervous excitement. We had survived a serious scare with a threatened miscarriage a few weeks prior. My wife was on bed rest at home, but we had no real reason to assume there would be any new problems.

It had been a bumpy ride, but we were hoping for normal results. We were also looking forward to going out for lunch. My wife had been cooped up for a few weeks and we decided to take advantage of our outing to spend some time together.

In retrospect, the whole idea was rather ridiculous. My wife had gestational diabetes and there wasn’t much for her to eat, but given all the emotion surrounding her pregnancy and the frustration built up from weeks of bed rest, any time away from home was precious.

The ultrasound room was dark so that the technician could have a good look. I was sitting to my wife’s right, and I made sure that I had a good look at the ultrasound screen, although I really didn’t have that great of an idea what I was seeing.

It was a long process. Each baby was measured separately, and sizes were taken of different parts of each baby’s body then compared to normal gestational progress. The technician wasn’t allowed to give us any results, but I could see the defaults that appeared on the ultrasound machine, and all of the measurements for both babies fell within the normal range for twins at that stage of development.

Near the conclusion of the ultrasound, the technician got a page. She checked her beeper and told us she would be right back and that we should wait for a few moments. We had no idea that the ultrasound machine was also being observed by our high-risk doctor in another room, so we just assumed the tech was going to have the results read by a radiologist.

As far as we could tell, things looked good, and we passed the time talking about my wife’s favorite salad, which she would soon enjoy on our lunch date. Much to our surprise and shock, the tech came back a few minutes later with our high-risk doctor. She told us that she had been following the ultrasound on a computer in her office. The babies were fine, but it seemed that the technician had inadvertently scanned lower than usual, and she wanted to double check my wife’s cervix.

The doctor took the ultrasound and spent a few moments scanning my wife’s cervix. Within a couple of minutes she announced, “Mrs. Shapiro, you need to go down to labor and delivery. You have what’s called an incompetent cervix, and they need to give you a cerclage immediately.”

The cervix is the part of the body that keeps the womb shut during pregnancy. An incompetent cervix could open too early and make it difficult, if not impossible, to keep the babies inside the womb.

Neither of us had ever heard of a cerclage. The doctor explained that, for all practical purposes, the cerclage would tie her cervix shut. Naively, I asked how long the procedure would take and wondered if our lunch date was now off.

The doctor informed me that the procedure would only take an hour or so, but my wife would be admitted immediately following her procedure and spend the remainder of her pregnancy in the hospital’s antepartum unit.

I didn’t even have to time to ask what an antepartum unit was as they wheeled my wife down to labor and delivery for the cerclage procedure. I could not believe this was happening. There was even more trouble after all of this? After all of the fertility treatments, surviving the threatened miscarriage, we would now need a surgical procedure? I quickly called my in-laws so that they could come and provide some additional support.

I had to wash up and put on the same scrubs as every father in the delivery room. Fortunately, the OB explained that the procedure was basically tying the cervix together with a knot to strengthen it. It should have no effect on the babies at all. He believed that the extra weight of twins had been too much for my wife’s cervix, which measured on the smaller side.

Still, I held my breath as the doctors performed the procedure. I couldn’t shake the feeling of how odd it was to be in the delivery room for reasons other than the delivery of our twins, but I knew I needed to be there to provide moral support.

The doctors told us that the cerclage procedure was a success, and while my wife was still groggy from the anesthesia, I walked alongside as they wheeled her to the antepartum unit. I never asked what an antepartum unit was exactly, as I assumed it would become clear when we got there.

For all practical purposes, an antepartum unit is an inpatient unit for high-risk, pregnant women on bed rest who require full-time medical attention. Having forgotten what the doctor had said, I didn’t ask how long they expected her to remain in the unit, but it became clear rather quickly that they intended for her to stay for the duration of the pregnancy. That could be as many as 20 weeks.

My wife wasn’t happy with the news, but she realized she had to do what needed to be done for the babies. Most people don’t understand what it is like to be in bed for 20 weeks. The only time she was allowed out of bed was to use the restroom. She would be in bed for more than 23 hours a day, every day for 20 weeks! Bedsores were a major concern, and physical therapy was a must to ensure that she didn’t lose too much muscle because of lack of movement.

This was also a time before wireless Internet, and one of the biggest challenges was staying occupied. I still had to work, so I couldn’t sit at the hospital with her during the day. Friends and neighbors provided us with electronic games, books and a portable DVD player to try and keep her occupied for her long stay.

I decided that I would sleep on the pull-out couch every night so that I could be there for her through most of the ordeal. That also meant that I would spend Shabbos with her at the hospital every week.

It wasn’t long before I started receiving all kinds of advice. While there were some offers to help (a neighbor of ours was incredibly valuable, cooking meals for me during the week and making sure I had everything I needed), most of the advice and concern focused on my wife.

I fully understand why my wife was the focus of everyone’s concern. She was the one carrying the babies, and her physical and mental wellbeing were absolutely crucial for the health of her pregnancy.

I was told dozens of times, from rabbis, family and friends that I needed to be strong for my wife. I’m not sure why, but the metaphor of being strong like a rock was one that repeated itself often.

I understood my role, and I knew that I had to be strong and do whatever I could to provide help and support to my wife in every way. However, in what would become yet another theme in our ordeal, not a single person inquired as to how I was doing. The focus was always on what I needed to do for my wife.

I desperately needed help and assistance. I needed to express my feelings, fears and frustrations, but I was never given that opportunity.

I was never asked how I was coping, and whether I needed any kind of emotional support. I felt very close to my babies, and I was going to do what I had to do to help my wife and try to save them, but I did internalize the message that I was getting: I am irrelevant and it is all about my wife.

While that attitude likely allowed me to focus on what needed to done for her, at times putting in almost superhuman effort to hide my feelings, I will be paying the price for that emotional toll for the rest of my life. There is only so much a human being can handle, and as an intensely emotional person, hiding and trying to ignore my feelings increased the emotional scarring as the pregnancy progressed and things turned from bad to absolutely tragic.

About the Author: Chaim Shapiro, M.Ed is a freelance writer, public speaker and social media consultant. He is currently working on a book about his collegiate experience. He welcomes comments and feedback at chaimshapiro@aol.com or on his website: http://chaimshapiro.com/


If you don't see your comment after publishing it, refresh the page.

Our comments section is intended for meaningful responses and debates in a civilized manner. We ask that you respect the fact that we are a religious Jewish website and avoid inappropriate language at all cost.

If you promote any foreign religions, gods or messiahs, lies about Israel, anti-Semitism, or advocate violence (except against terrorists), your permission to comment may be revoked.

No Responses to “From The Greatest Heights (Part VII)”

Comments are closed.

SocialTwist Tell-a-Friend

Current Top Story
Gidon Saar (L) and Gilad Erdan (R) walking together in the Knesset.
Gilad Erdan May Replace Gidon Saar
Latest Sections Stories
A-Night-Out-logo

While we all go to restaurants for a good meal, it is dessert, that final taste that lingers in your mouth, that is the crown jewel of any dining experience and Six Thirteen’s offerings did not disappoint.

Today, fifty years and six million (!) people later, Israel is truly a different world.

There will always be items that don’t freeze well – salads and some rice- or potato-based dishes – so you need to leave time to prepare or cook them closer to Yom Tov and ensure there is enough room in the refrigerator to store them.

In Uzbekistan, in the early twentieth century, it was the women who wore the pants.

This is an important one in raising a mentsch (and maybe even in marrying off a mentsch! listening skills are on the top of the list when I do shidduch coaching).

While multitasking is not ideal, it is often necessary and unavoidable.

Maybe now that your kids are back in school, you should start cleaning for Pesach.

The interpreter was expected to be a talmid chacham himself and be able to also offer explanations and clarifications to the students.

“When Frank does something he does it well and you don’t have to worry about dotting the i’s or crossing the t’s.”

“On Sunday I was at the Kotel with the battalion and we said a prayer of thanks. In Gaza there were so many moments of death that I had to thank God that I’m alive. Only then did I realize how frightening it had been there.”

Neglect, indifference or criticism can break a person’s neshama.

It’s fair to say that we all know or have someone in our family who is divorced.

More Articles from Chaim Shapiro
Careers-logo

Just a few months ago, I was having a difficult time getting a refund for a missing product processed via the customer service call center at a major retailer. After spending hours on hold and having my request denied, I sent a Tweet to the company’s Twitter account.

I have a background in counseling, and I can say that the biggest mistake that I ever made was refusing psychological help after we lost the twins. I was trying to keep my tough-guy facade going, and convinced myself that I could deal with the pain.

We had suffered through an experience I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. My wife had to go through labor and deliver our children to their deaths, and I was unable to save them or even give them a little warmth while they died.

Special Note: It is an unusual phenomenon that many bereaved parents share. We can almost see our age-adjusted children in our sukkah or running up to us during a family simcha. As quickly as they come, those visions seem to disappear as we go through the life cycle. They are hard moments made harder by the thoughts of not only what could have been, but what should have been.

I had to believe that things were going to be ok. They just had to be ok. We had gone through so much, had sacrificed so much and were doing everything the doctors told us to do. I remember speaking to a hesitant professor in my Ph.D. program about getting an incomplete in her class. The conversation stands out in my mind because, looking back, I can see how odd it must have seemed as I matter-of-factly told her I was too busy for coursework because my twins’ amniotic sack was bulging through my wife’s cervix.

On our first day in the antepartum unit, one of the nurses mentioned how critical every moment of pregnancy really was. “One minute in is worth two minutes out (in an incubator).” We weren’t really expecting a premature birth, but her comment put a fine point on the importance of the care my wife was receiving.

The best way to describe our emotions the morning of our major ultrasound was nervous excitement. We had survived a serious scare with a threatened miscarriage a few weeks prior. My wife was on bed rest at home, but we had no real reason to assume there would be any new problems.

It was only after we celebrated the great news that we were expecting twins that we saw the first sign of problems. First of all, my wife was losing, not gaining weight, even as the babies continued to grow normally. Soon after, routine blood work revealed that my wife was suffering from gestational diabetes.

Printed from: http://www.jewishpress.com/sections/family/from-the-greatest-heights-part-vii/2013/07/11/

Scan this QR code to visit this page online: