The first in a six-part series chronicling the birth of Michelle and Dennis Teravainen’s second child, August, who was born with Down’s syndrome.
[In Part 1, The Teravainens head to the hospital for a planned c-section. They don’t yet know that their son will be born with Down’s syndrome.]
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We’re blogging to you live on the eve and morning of Baby T 2.0’s arrival.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
6:00 p.m. I am painting Greta’s bedroom door and touching up the kitchen. The wife is folding laundry because she is obsessed with washing clothes in Dreft these past couple days. If you’re not looking, she’ll take the socks off your feet to complete a full load of whites. I’m still in denial that a baby is coming tomorrow. By the way, I think I’ve got a corneal abrasion after a mishap at Lowe’s loading a box onto the cash register’s conveyor belt. Long story. Bottom line is it feels like there’s a pebble stuck in my eyelid. Sweet.
7:00 p.m. Nana took Greta for the weekend, so the wife and I are heading out for a quiet dinner date. We head to a tapas restaurant not too far from our place. Glass of Spanish red for the wife. She’s having a contraction. Chopin chilled straight up with olives for me. My eye hurts. Are we really having a baby tomorrow?
8:00 p.m. We hammer back some delicious grub: scallops, mussels, beef tenderloin, green beans with garlic and almonds, and empanadas. Great stuff. Yes, I’d love a glass of what she’s drinking. We have a 6 a.m. appointment for the c-section. Let’s have dessert. It may be a while before we have dinner without bibs, sippy cups, bottles, or burp cloths.
9:30 p.m. Back at the house. Mad dash by mama to finish packing. We check out “Deadliest Catch” on the DVR. I try to write but I’m too tired. I’ll try again tomorrow.
11:00 p.m. Finally, we turn out the lights for our 5 a.m. wake up. I’m so happy to be in bed. This might be the last time we snooze peacefully for the next several months. Mama announces that she’s having more contractions as I drift off to sleep. I’m uninterested and tired.
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Friday, July 23, 2010
12:30 a.m. The wife is having more contractions, which she decides to tell me after waking me up. I roll over.
1:30 a.m. The wife is still contracting. Thanks for the update.
2:30 a.m. The wife continues to contract. What do you want me to do about it?
3:30 a.m. You guessed it. Contractions. I’m really annoyed.
4:30 a.m. Okay, let’s just get out of bed because clearly the wife is not going to let me sleep. Why? Because she can’t sleep. Naturally, I should suffer too, she reasons.
5:47 a.m. We arrive at Beth Israel Hospital in Boston. Contractions are five minutes apart. We check in.
6:30 a.m. Michelle’s first measurement. Drum roll please. 4-5 centimeters. Whoa. I guess she is in labor. Glad to know that our son is prompt. How did he know he was going to arrive today?
6:45 a.m. The original C-section was scheduled for 8 a.m., so the wife’s doctor may not be on time to deliver Baby T. She begins to cry. Don’t mess with a laboring pregnant lady.
7:00 a.m. Phew. Our doctor made it early so we can get started! The wife is whisked off to have her spinal. I am left alone with my booties, jumpsuit, mask, and cap. I hated this part with Greta. I’m hating this part with 2.0. No other nurses or parents in waiting. I’m by myself.
7:15 a.m. I Wish they had ESPN in here—or a sports page.
7:30 a.m. Finally! A nurse comes in to get me. They are ready for me. I have the camera in hand.
7:32 a.m. I sit next to Michelle’s head. I am avoiding looking beyond the curtain for fear of passing out.
7:45 a.m. The doctors, nurses, and Teravainens are all chatting as if we’re in a coffee shop sipping lattes and exchanging light-hearted small talk—except the wife’s insides are exposed to the world to see. I’m trying not to let on that I’m freaking out inside. The doctors occasionally tug and pull at her belly, which I witness in a shadowy silhouette I wish I could not see.
7:50 a.m. The wife and I squeeze our hands together in anticipation. They say he’s almost here.
7:55 a.m. We hear a squawk, finally! And, we’ve got a dong. “It’s a boy!” they announce officially. “What’s his name?” they ask next.
We happily reply, “AUGUST THOMAS TERAVAINEN!”
Thus, we give you: August in July.
—Dennis Teravainen
Such a handsome lad must have a beautiful big sister ~ looking forward to the second article in the series and hoping for another wonderful picture. Congratulations.
Whoa, people! Hello! Lighthearted humor! Take a deep breath before commenting!
This was a great post–spoken by a “the wife,” who’s had 3 C sections, one of which gave us a daughter with Down Syndrome, which we didn’t know @ ahead of time. I’m anexious to read the rest.
BTDT, sort of. But that was 11 years ago.
http://home.earthlink.net/~wrblack/
I loved the installment. I am looking forward to the next one.
Dennis, What you say makes a lot of sense. As you start to fill in the larger picture here, I think the editors did a big disservice to you, not in choosing this as the first post—I like the idea of illuminating just how upbeat and tongue in cheek you felt leading up to your second kid’s birth—but in failing to provide adequate context for where you’re coming from. A paragraph intro from you setting the stage would have done worlds to explain what some of us readers have gotten all fired up about, only to have you delve into… Read more »
That is one handsome baby! I love that your first part of six is the night before the delivery. Just about all of us who have a fabulous son or daughter with Down syndrome were mainstream civilians right up to the moment of diagnosis. It thrilled me that some folks are fired up enough to complain about your reference to The Wife. Families who include an individual with Down syndrome are rather sensitive about terms that are often bandied about in otherwise polite conversation. We hope that you all will sign the End The R-Word pledge. I don’t really like… Read more »
May God continue to guide,strengthen and protect you and your family….You guys are so blessed with 2 wonderful children in your life….Enjoy everyday together….Maryse
Sean and Laura, sorry I didn’t see your comments until tonight. By way of background, I’ve been blogging for almost two years with an admittedly small following. During that time, the readers (if they didn’t know me already) became familiar with me and my family through weekly postings that varied from absurd to serious. We’ll ultimately disclose the website after the six selected articles are posted here. I hope you take a look back at that time and peruse. When I first read this magazine very recently, I thought it was really interesting. I reached out and inquired if the… Read more »
I gotta tell you – and I speak as a mother whose child live in neonatal intensive care for 3 months as a surgical patient – that you lost me with “the wife.” I was truly interested in what I assumed would be the first post, which in my editorial opinion, should begin with your learning of the disorder. Will I tune in for the rest? I’m not sure. I am not finished wincing at your decision – not your private practice – but your decision to use the phrase “the wife” in a public forum without the added benefit… Read more »
Pat, One of the more cowardly things you can do in a debate is attack the other person rather than respond to his or her point. You call someone a homo rather than listen to why they believe they have the right to marry their partner. You call someone a pussy tree hugger rather than listen to why they believe we should address environmental degradation. This sort of thing is easier to do and all the more absurd in an anonymous forum like this, where you can project whatever stereotypes or insults you want onto someone you don’t know the… Read more »
Dennis,
I found your article amusing and heartfelt. I can understand why some ladyboys may have trouble understanding your approach and attitude in your writings. Their disconnect lies in the conflict of their mismatched undercarriages and their overly-sensitive, fragile psyches. This is the reason they want to talk a little more about their feelings, listen to Barry Mannilow a little louder, and wear the wife’s panties a little longer. Have patience, my gentle, soft-headed little friend. Soon you will understand where the writer is coming from.
Keep up the great work, Dennis.
– Fatrick
Dennis, thanks for the response. As someone who has many nicknames for my significant other, I can completely understand the inside jokes that create these ridiculous references. I think I was reacting to “the wife” because of the overall tone of the entry. Perhaps with more context before the first blog post or personal familiarity with your relationship (as the others who commented seem to have), I would have understood the affection and humor. Clearly after this commentary, in my house I will be known as Scrotum Chopper and my husband as Miserable SOB. @Jake, please look for his blog:… Read more »
Dennis, I’m afraid your humor was lost on me as well. Or, perhaps the better way to put it is, your humor seemed totally out of context. It’s my impression that this website is a forum for men to talk honestly about issues that guys typically gloss over with beers and wings and Sportscenter. Problem is, your whole post struck me as glibly poking fun at the real emotions, fears, hopes, exhaustion, excitement, concerns for your wife, concerns for your unborn son/daughter, and so on that a guy really experiences in the weeks, days, hours leading up to his child’s… Read more »
Ali, I am glad that you read the article and I hope you continue to read the ones to come. I also applaud you for not holding back your opinion. The nickname for my wife as “the wife” is – believe it or not – a running joke between us that she is some kind of a stereotypical nag. If and when you read any future posts, picture me saying “the wife” with an exagerrated eye roll followed by Michelle giving me a playful jab in the side immediately after. She’s the reason that I write. As long as she… Read more »
I know this couple in real life and I can assure you they are very happy and have a really wonderful relationship, full of laughter and love. I lam a huge fan of Dennis’ blog, as well as his wife!, and am so excited for him to be on this site!
UH-OH….the scrotum choppers are on this already…..Jeez……Ali, if there is one in your life, The Husband must be one miserable SOB. If The Husband isn’t miserable, he’s definitely been stripped of his sense of humor, ability to take things lightly and of course he’s regularly the submissive bottom.
Dennis, very well done. I look forward to checking in.
-JMG
AEKDB
Ali, relax and take “a joke”. I look forward to reading more about this families adventure into the unknown, and hope that the parents can keep there humor with them as they no doubt embark on what has to be one of the scariest time in a parents life.
While I will not comment on Dennis’ relationship with “the wife,” since she likely read and approved this post, I will give some unsolicited advice to any “good men” reading this entry…
It’s not wise to refer to your partner, your friend, your lover, your support, the mother of your children, your wife, as a piece of burdensome, nameless property. The wife?! Seriously?
I was really looking forward to this series, but am pretty sure that the cavalier attitude which shines through this post will keep me from coming back for more.