It’s nearly a year late (I can’t believe I’m going to be the mother of a one year old in three short weeks). And the reason for the delay is simple. Thinking / typing / talking about the day that Clara was born still scares the pants off of me. Even 11+ months later. This little lady made quite the dramatic entrance.
Yup, the day that Clara came into the world was the most amazing life-changing day of my existence, but it was easily also the single most terrifying one. I’ve mentioned some details a few times in comments on other Clara-related posts (many readers wanted to know all about the bean’s birth right away) but I think now that she’s almost a year old I’ve processed that day enough to really share it fully with the interweb. By no means am I over it (don’t really know if I ever will be), but I can talk about it now without crying. So that’s a start, right? A few friends of mine have actually recommend that I write this post as part of the whole healing process (a lot of the posts that we write are actually for our own benefit since this is just an online diary to document our lives for our own selfish purposes, haha). So I thought it made sense. I know that how Clara came into the world will affect future pregnancies and how nervous/anxious/wary/afraid I’ll be if any of the same complications pop up again, so perhaps talking about it after processing it for almost a year might help me come to terms with it a bit more. So here it goes (deep breaths, deep breaths).
I had an amazing low risk fabulous pregnancy. No high blood pressure. No weird pains. Over 100 days of morning sickness (yes I counted) but that’s to be expected. Or at least tolerated in the name of baking a human. Other than that (and once that ended) it was amazeballs as my girl Bethenny Frankel would say. I felt great. I loved feeling my little bean kicking around in there. I basked in the glory of being prego. I told John I could do it ten more times. Life was good.
My tiny 4’11” mom had two natural (and very fast) child births, so I had high hopes of a normal (if not very quickly progressing) delivery. Maybe without drugs, and maybe with them. I wasn’t going into it with any strong feelings either way, but I had taken some classes on pain management and learned about The Bradley Method so I was actually feeling very bring-it-on by the end. Either way I kept telling myself “in the end the baby will be out and I’ll get to meet her, so no fear is allowed – it’s going to be a happy day – with drugs or without them. No pressure. Just try to go with the flow and relax.” I had orders to “run, don’t walk” to the hospital if I had any signs of labor (my mother had me in four hours and my brother within two) so that had me a little on edge, but the only thing I worried about was having the baby at home or in the car since I feared it would all happen really fast because that runs in the family.
John was working downtown at the time and I was at home without a car (we’re a one car family, so he’d take the car during the day and after he came home we’d run any errands I needed to do). So admittedly the whole being at home without the car thing was kind of scary but I knew about fifty neighbors who volunteered to drive me to the hospital if things got crazy and John couldn’t make it home to get me in time. The funny thing is that he answered his cell phone on the first half-a-ring for the last two weeks of my pregnancy, so I knew he was on high alert and was confident that he’d hightail it home in time (it was only a 15 minute drive).
I never felt a single contraction (not even Braxton Hicks) until the day I went into labor, but I knew I was dilated to a 3.5 at 39 weeks (yes I walked around at a 3.5 without going into labor with my first child, which I hear is really uncommon). Clara must have been holding onto the walls in there. So although I was still about a week “early,” my doc said I was going to have the baby any second. Hence John being on high alert. Oh yeah and my belly looked like this. I was officially ready to pop.
I noticed on the morning of May 14th (it was a Friday) that I was having some pretty intense contractions. My first contractions ever (well that I felt). At first they were oddly irregular so I thought it was just prelabor (didn’t even tell John because I didn’t want him to get all crazy and come running home for a false alarm). But slowly they started to establish a pattern and by the time I started timing them they were just four minutes apart. And they were an 11 on the pain scale. I felt like my insides were ripping apart and my back was killing me. I called John who was out to lunch with all of his coworkers to celebrate his very last day at the office (he was resigning to come on full time as a dad/blogger) and told him to get the eff home. He laughed about how good my timing was because he was just finishing his burrito. I groan-cried in the middle of a contraction and he knew I meant business. So home he came flew.
By the time we got to the hospital my contractions were already two minutes apart. I remember having a hard time even walking from the car to the door because they were just coming nonstop and they were bring-you-to-your-knees painful. I thought I might have a baby right there in the parking lot. They sent me straight into labor and delivery. As we waited for the doctor to arrive and check my progress my water broke in the hospital bed- but instead of being clear it was red. So much blood. Very scary. I didn’t even see most of it (thanks to my giant belly and the sheet over my lower half) but John did along with my OB who happened to be in the room. John’s face went white and the OB snapped into hyperdrive.
Immediately the room filled with frenzied nurses and doctors and they explained that I was having a placental abruption, which happens when the placenta has inexplicably detached from the uterine wall. This is very bad news before the baby is born. And it explains the feels-like-my-body-is-ripping-apart pain I’d been experiencing. It’s an extremely dangerous complication for the baby (since they get their nourishment from the placenta and can go into shock and die) and the mother can hemorrhage (and can also die in cases of extreme bleeding). So it was a pretty dire situation all around (although nobody stopped to explain it, the look on the doctor and nurse’s faces kind of said it all).
Within about a minute they had me in the OR and within three minutes they had sweet baby Clara out thanks to an amazingly fast emergency c-section. They saved her life by acting so fast.
It was a blur. All I remember was them running my gurney into the walls while turning corners in the hallway trying to get me into an ER as fast as possible. They looked panicked. And it scared the heck out of me. I didn’t care about me or my body – just the baby. I remember screaming inside of my head “just cut her out of me, cut and I don’t care if I feel pain or if I get hurt or if I have scars all over, just save her. Do it right here in the hallway if you have to.” Of course my lips weren’t moving. It was one of those out-of-body mind screams that nobody else can hear.
John suddenly wasn’t with me. They just left him behind and ran with me down the hall calling up to get emergency doctors and nurses on hand since the main OR was already in use for a scheduled c-section. I remember people popping out of doorways saying “I’ll help” and joining the frenzied mob and going over all of my stats (blood type, number of weeks prego, etc) while saying things like “baby in distress” and “profuse bleeding.” I couldn’t have created a scarier nightmare scenario in my head if I tried. Lots of people swarmed into the OR in the next thirty seconds. But no John. I could barely breathe at the thought of something going so wrong without him by my side. Once they had me fully prepped for surgery (which happened within less than a minute, they were so amazing) someone must have run off to get him.
I wish I could say it was thanks to me calling out for him but I was in shock so I couldn’t talk or even move. I was frozen. It almost felt like I wasn’t even there and I was watching it all happen to someone else on TV. John says he remembers standing in the hallway as everyone ran off with me. So freaked out and completely alone. Just waiting. That always makes me cry when I think about it. I didn’t know it at the time because of the chaos, but someone had tossed scrubs at him when I was being wheeled out (he would need them since it had to be a sterile environment for the c-section) so he was just standing there in the hallway wearing his scrubs and waiting. And going crazy. Finally someone came out to retrieve him and he was allowed to come hold my hand right as they started to cut. I just stared at him. I was frozen. I didn’t cry. I didn’t talk. I was just in shock at how quickly everything was happening.
Once they opened me up they saw that not only was Clara in distress from the placental abruption, but the umbilical cord had somehow been pinched (which is called “cord prolapse”) so she was without oxygen while fighting to make it through the abruption. I heard them toss out the word “cord prolapse” (they didn’t have time to explain what was going on, so I learned the details later) but in my odd state of panic and shock I thought they were talking about someone else. I was the one with a placental abruption. The scariest page of my birth book at home. The one I didn’t even read because it wouldn’t happen to me because I didn’t have high blood pressure or any of the other risk factors. My baby couldn’t also be dealing with cord prolapse. How could that be? Who could be that unlucky? Then they said “she’s not going to cry ok – don’t wait for her to cry just try to stay calm and breathe slowly.” That was when my heart broke and I started to cry. I guess I was crying for her.
I couldn’t see anything thanks to the screen they threw up before cutting into me, but they were right. She didn’t cry when they yanked her out with all of their might. All I remember was extreme pressure but no pain. Well, no physical pain. Emotional pain = off the charts. They had NICU specialists standing by, and when I heard them say “NICU” out loud that it was the first time I actually thought “what if this doesn’t end the way I thought it always would? What if all those pep talks I gave myself about it being a happy day because “drugs or no drugs I would get to meet my sweet baby girl” weren’t going to be true?
John later admitted that thought had hit him a lot earlier than it had hit me. He said he knew something was very wrong when he saw all the blood before they whisked me away. And when he was standing alone in the hallway after I got wheeled off to the OR he wondered if things were about to end badly. See why that visual of him in the hall makes me cry? It was just so surreal and terrifying. John later confessed that once he was allowed into the OR to hold my hand that he couldn’t really watch as they pulled her out of me, even though he was much taller than the screen they had set up to block my view. Not because he was afraid of the blood or passing out, but because he didn’t want to see our baby “not make it.”
But after about one felt-like-eternity minute they got her to moan. Kind of like a kitty meowing. It was so soft and weak and just heart breaking. I remember thinking “I want her to cry so she’s ok, but I don’t want to hear her if she’s not going to be ok because I’m falling in love already. I can’t hear her moan and then fall silent- she has to start wailing. Right now!” But no dice. I remember thinking that all the silence felt so loud. Like it was almost deafening to listen so desperately for some sign of a cry. Clara got a 4 on her initial Apgar test, which we later heard is usually the lowest score you can get before permanent brain damage if things don’t improve by the five minute Apgar retest. They didn’t announce the time of birth or her weight very loudly or say anything like in the movies, you know like “it’s a girl!” or “happy birthday!” or “what’s her name?” and she didn’t come lay on my chest. I still couldn’t even see her thanks to the screen they had put up to block the surgery. They were all just working on this baby that I couldn’t even see. My baby. And I just stared at John in a silent freeze, tears in my eyes but nothing coming out of my mouth. At some point after closing me up the doctor said “she’s bleeding – she reopened, get over here” and half of the team ran back to work on me. My incision which had been sewn and stapled shut had reopened and I could hear from the doctors tone that it wasn’t an ideal situation. But I still wasn’t scared for me. In any other scenario it would have been intensely alarming, but I had a one track mind: the baby. I want to hear the baby cry.
It felt like five years went by (in reality it was less than five minutes) but slowly the people working on me thinned out and the people working on Clara seemed to start moving more casually and slower. As if it wasn’t such an emergency anymore. I remember thinking “this is either a very good or a very bad sign.” Thankfully, by her five minute Apgar test she pinked up, cried a glorious and spirited cry, and got a 9 (we later learned that the five minute Apgar retest is the most important and revealing one). They said that a 9 was as close to perfect as it gets and that even super healthy children rarely get 10s. And they told us that it was so great that she rebounded so well and was looking fantastic. She was a fighter for sure. They even let John go over and see her (I was still strapped down so I had to wait).
She wasn’t out of the woods yet, but we didn’t know that at the time, so we started to rejoice and John even took some video on the iPhone to bring back over to show to me since I hadn’t even laid eyes on her yet (we were so lucky that the iPhone happened to be in John’s pocket before all hell broke lose, otherwise we wouldn’t have any documentation of Clara’s birth at all). We later learned they were somehow testing her cord blood to see if she was without oxygen for so long that she sustained permanent brain damage. Only when the test came back all-clear (indicating that there were no worries of that) did the nurses and doctors really seem to relax.
Apparently infants who live after a placental abruption have a 40-50% chance of complications, which range from mild to severe (and sometimes mothers who survive end up with a hysterectomy to control the hemorrhaging). Only then did it start to sink in how lucky we really had been. And what a miracle our baby girl really is.
Finally, after what literally felt like days, they wrapped her up and brought her over to me. My arms were strapped down from the surgery, so John held her right near my head and I just stared at her in disbelief. I was still in shock, and bloated with fluids from the IV along with fear and disbelief and unconditional love.
What did I do to deserve such a happy ending? How would I have survived coming home empty handed to a beautiful nursery that I shared with the world while being so confident that I was guaranteed a cute little baby to put in that crib? Basically it was the scariest day of our lives, and I still ask why. Why me (in that annoying “poor me” way) and why me (in the “why-was-I-so-lucky-she-was-spared” way). But the main thing I feel is full. Of relief. Of gratitude. Of love for my little fighter. My little miracle. I’m SO THANKFUL that the doctors and nurses worked so quickly to come to her (and my) rescue. I’ll never know for sure, but if another team had been on duty I don’t know that I would have had the same outcome. They were just so on it. So invested and so amazing. And I can’t even begin to think about what could have happened if I wasn’t in the hospital when I started bleeding.
Other nurses and doctors in the hospital dropped in to see us for days just to tell us how lucky we were (news of our complications were apparently the talk of the hospital). We even had a friend on another floor (coincidentally she was there on the same day that I went into labor for a pre-term labor scare) who had overheard nurses and doctors talking about “that woman who had both a cord prolapse and a placental abruption at the same time but the baby actually survived.” Only later did she find out that it was me they were talking about. I still get chills when I think about that. How lucky we were. How scary it was. And how gorgeous and amazing that little girl in my arms was. And still is.
So that’s the story of the scariest/best day of our lives. Whew. No wonder we’re obsessed with the girl.
As for if those complications are more likely to occur with any subsequent pregnancies, cord prolapse is totally random and can happen to anyone, so it doesn’t become more likely if you’ve experienced it before (but it’s rare, so if you’re prego and reading this story know that my combination of complications were about as likely as winning the lottery). However, placental abruption is more likely to reoccur (around one in four women experience it again) and it can happen as early as around twenty weeks (when the baby isn’t viable yet, which means the baby wouldn’t make it). So it can be devastating and scary. I have strict orders to wait at least two full years between pregnancies to let everything heal up nice and strong, which probably means over three years between Clara and her younger brother or sister, assuming all goes well. I’m fine with the wait since I’m happy to just enjoy Clara for a while and take that time to continue to process the whole birth experience and build up my courage. But I’m sure when I’m pregnant again I’ll be much less happy go lucky about it.
Which is really sad. John keeps begging me to let it be the same joyful and unabashedly exciting time as it was before. But I know myself. And I’ll be on high alert. Searching for any signs or symptoms that something’s wrong. And scared even if there aren’t any signs of trouble (because there weren’t any before I started feeling contractions with Clara- it just all came out of nowhere). I’m scared that I might even be afraid to get a nursery ready. You know, so as not to jinx things. So my plan is to know myself, and accept that I’m going to be scared. But to do my best to enjoy it as much as I can and remind myself that I now know what an abruption feels like (so I should instantly be able to identify it) and that I have more information than I had with Clara (plus the doctors also know about my history now that I’ve had it happen). So I’ll hopefully have just as good of an outcome should it reoccur, as long as it doesn’t happen before the baby is developed enough to be delivered.
But I’m not gonna lie. I’m going to be petrified.
I also might be a “high risk” pregnancy next time without any chance of natural labor (if signs of another abruption occur they’ll rush me to a c-section if the baby is old enough to live outside the womb). I’m ok with that. Anything for a healthy baby. Now not only am I open when it comes to drugs or no drugs, I’m totally down with a c-section too. Slice and dice, baby. Whatever it takes.
Marie-Philippe says
Hi Sherry, thanks for sharing this touching story. Life really is a miracle and you are so strong!
Jessica Ballard says
I have the hair on my arms standing up. What a scary and blessed day you survived. Clara and you are both true miracles, and no wonder John treasures you both so much. We had a fear of placental abruption due to placenta previa mid pregnancy but it thankfully moved up. They told us we more than likely would have had a scheduled c/s should it not move and it would have been done before chance of going into labor which is what causes it to sometimes tear away from the uterine wall. That is probably what happened to you, as labor started, it started pulling away from the wall, thus the horrible pain. So gut wrenching for you. My daughter was born via c/s due to failure to progress in labor come to find out her cord was wrapped twice around her neck and delivering naturally would more than likely strangled her in the process. My 2nd was my placenta previa baby with complications mid way through. My son thankfully did well and we finished the pregnancy with no complications. I remember the waiting for my husband to be let into the OR and feeling alone and scared. I also can picture my husband waiting in a small room to see if he could be brought in and waiting to know what is happening. He still remembers how he felt during that time, and while waiting for our children to be born, hoping and praying all went well. It is hard to recall those days sometimes knowing how much fear we felt, but so thankful for the blessings we have in our children and treasure every moment with them.
Tracy says
Sherry and John – Thanks for sharing your story! I had a scary delivery with my second baby (cord prolapse, racing down the hall to the OR with doctors screaming, c-section with no anesthesia totally awake…..). Thankfully we were at a great hospital with a very aware doctor. I was scared to DEATH to have another! But we will celebrate his first birthday just days after Clara’s. Good luck with everything!!!
Julie says
I’m sitting at work crying. It’s amazing to see behind the camera sometimes and to find out that not everything is always perfect. I’m 3months pregnant with twins, you and John have been my creative inspiration since I discovered you four months ago, I’m really scared of all the possibilities, I will now take emotional inspiration from your family as well. Congratulations to all of you.
karyn says
My second son had the same kind of scare… with a happy outcome. For us it started at my 20 week ultrasound. On my 27th birthday nonetheless|.They told us out baby had a 1 in 60 chance of having down syndrome. I was healthy, young, but the baby had a single measurement during our ultrasound that prompted the statement. I spent the next 18 weeks worrying, stressing, becoming a high risk pregnancy with weekly ultrasounds, meetings with genetic counselors, and was constantly asked “if” we were going to proceed. I never had a single thoght in my mind, this baby would be born no matter what. 38wks 6 days, 2 days before I had a scheduled csection I went into labor. I was attempting a vbac so this was good newa. 23 hrs of a hellish labor later, he showed his face. But it was blue and he was unresponsive. Mthe cord was tightly wrapped around his neck. My amazing midwife clamped and cut the cord so fast, he was out within minutes. I don’t knw his apgars, 3 years later I just don’t want to know. don’t want to know. The nicu whisked him away so fast. There I was laying there with my mom at my side (my hubby went with the baby) hysterically crying. I didn’t know if he was ok. What was going on. My midwife tried to explain as much as she could. I was stitched up and wheeled to the recovery room. No baby to hold. Nothing. The whole reason I wanted a vbac was to hold him, but it was more of a nightmare. He spent 27 hours in the nicu before he was released to us. He thankfully has no reprocussions either. Here I am trying for our 3rd now. I must be crazy!
Dugi says
Happy that both u and baby are safe and healthy. :)
Diana says
Sherry, this is an amazing and moving story. Literally brought me to tears. What a hard thing to go through yet you are so lucky to have your little girl. I guess it goes to show that miracles really do happen.
Lori @ Richmond, BABY! says
Tearing up over here…thankfully while reading I could picture your sweet almost-one-year-old little Clara and knew the story would have a happy ending. Clara is such a gift and is so lucky to have such a strong mother in you! My husband and I are unable to have children so we adopted and I’m constantly reminded of how precious life is and the pure miracle of each and every baby who comes into this world.
Marsha says
Thank you for sharing your story. Your story telling really is beautiful. I could almost feel the emotions and if I were reading this anywhere but at work I would probably be crying, instead of just having tears in my eyes.
Sarah says
It is never too early to pray for your next pregnancy! Just prayed for you and your family now!
threadbndr says
Sherry, even though I knew the outcome was good, my heart ached for you throughout your story. I know how terrifying a delivery gone bad can be. My son (and grandson) were both premies, and JC was delivered by c-section – also due to placental issues.
Listen to your doctors, and be brave about another child when the time is right.
And hug on Clara and give her a big sloppy kiss from us – little girl with a lion’s heart.
Julie Ball says
I could just cry for you reading this, Sherry. Clara is absolutely a miracle and seems like such a sweet baby girl! I know you and John are over the moon for her and I can’t wait to watch her grown and change through the blog. I will say that I sort of understand your fears. Only sort of because I did not have the same issues as you. But similar. My son had the cord wrapped around his neck twice and came out blue and not breathing. He pinked right up but about 8 hours later, he began having seizures (and still does as a result of a brain injury sustained when he did not receive sufficient oxygen during delivery). Other than the seizures, you would never know anything was ‘wrong’! And we are blessed by that. But it doesn’t help much to hear that when you have experienced a traumatic experience like Clara’s birth day. But you WILL be stronger for it. My situation was with my firstborn and it took me almost 4 years to be ready to try for number 2. I was petrified. But you know what? We tried. And succeeded. And even though our first born will always hold the first experience we have with birth which wasn’t a total dream -our daughter holds the experience of a birth that went beautifully; right down to her initial SCREAM of a cry that I prayed for all 4 years before I had her.
You guys rock!
Mona Alicia says
What an awesome story! You made my eyes tear up while I was reading this, but I love the way you wrote it (I always love your writing style, but I’ve never read a topic like this from you and it works just as wonderfully). I’m so happy that everything worked out, it sounds like your care team was awesome and you really got the jackpot!
Sheryl says
Wow, Sherry, good for you for putting this whole story out there. I have wondered since Clara’s birth what the complications were. Not trying to be nosy, hopefully, but I do work as a labour and delivery nurse, so it’s my thing.
I have seen abruptions and I have seen cord prolapses, and I have never seen both at once. Perhaps you can think of it like getting all the complications out of the way at once, so your next pregnancy and birth can be smooth, healthy, and happy. I wish that for you!
Congratulations not only on Clara, but on having the strength to get through and process what happened enough to share. To both of you.
YoungHouseLove says
It’s true. I like to think that since they both happened at once (and everyone told me how intensely rare that was) that maybe I got all the bad stuff out of the way.
xo,
s
fd says
I’m sorry you went through this and thank you for sharing the story with us. I’m crying away at my desk here too. You, John, Clara and your doctors were really blessed and did a great job! I hope with time you’ll be ready to choose to go for a second bean.
phoebe says
i was a few months behind you and clara and i am so glad that you were able to get this story out and hope that it heals you emotionally. thank goodness clara is such a warrior! she is beautiful- i can’t even imagine processing any of that in the moment. strong, healthy thoughts going your way!!!
Jane says
I am sobbing right now, just before heading to work. Need to pull myself together here!!
I started to cry while reading your post just thinking of what you went through. Then I started crying with the happy end.
And I am sure all we interweb fans are so thankful you shared this private and scary moment, but also all the wonder and happiness of your beautiful girl!
Stephanie says
What an absolutely terrifying and yet amazing story. I am so incredibly glad that it turned out okay for everyone involved. Thank goodness for the amazing doctors you had there. Wow. I’m just speechless. Thank you for sharing. It brought tears to my eyes.
Susan says
An amazing story, Sherry (and John). Thank you for sharing.
Lauren says
Wow… thank you so much for writing your story. I also had a placental abruption with my twins at 32 weeks & had an emergency c-section (& then they spent 5 1/2 weeks in the NICU). It is incredibly emotional & scary, but you’re so right that the most important thing is that you have a beautiful, strong, healthy little girl! My twins are almost 2 now and you’ve really encouraged me to get over the trauma of that birth & just be grateful that they survived it & are thriving! Thanks for sharing.
renee says
she is getting so big and your story made me cry, i’m so glad that everything turned out ok!
Kim Skellenger says
I had a similar experience with my first born and it took me a long time to get over it as well. Emma is almost 5 now and she has a brother, Ian, who is 1. :) You are one strong cookie and I’m sure will become a repeat offender. :)
Just think how amazing your next pregnancy will be, you will get to share it with Clara. :) That will bring a whole new level of joy to the experience!
I wish you happy thoughts!
Annie says
Yep, in tears here in my office! Sherry, my little girl was born in a very similar fashion the Friday after Clara was born. Like you, I credit the AMAZING team of nurses and doctors for their quick, decisive action. When I left the hospital I cried and hugged all those wonderful nurses. Now that her first birthday is coming up in a few weeks (the Sat. after Clara’s), I’m planning to visit the maternity ward with birthday cookies to thank the nurses for giving me the greatest gift of all. Thank you for sharing your story.
Meredith O says
Sherry,
I’ve been following your blog since I read about it in the Washington Post several months ago…I love your cool ideas plus your down-to-earth and fun-loving tone. This post, however, was especially moving. I’m not pregnant and I’m not a mother, but WOW, what a story. Thank you for being courageous enough to share. You really are an amazing woman. And God is good. :)
Hannah says
WOW. It must have taken a lot of courage to write that post and share it! I’m so glad that everyone made it out healthy. Isn’t it amazing what modern medicine has been able to achieve? Hopefully Clara took all the complication drama and your next baby will fly into the world no problem.
Lydia Jo Martin says
Made me cry. So thankful your sweet Clara made it. Friend of ours just lost a baby at 34 weeks due to a ruptured placenta.
YoungHouseLove says
I’m so sorry to hear about your friend. It’s completely heartbreaking. She’s in my thoughts.
xo,
s
Kari says
Thank you so much for sharing your birth story, I got chills reading it (as I am 27 weeks pregnant with our first baby). What a blessing Clara is in both of your lives, enjoy the little one for all of us!
JRo says
Thanks for sharing your story. I’m at work trying to hold back tears. I’m pregnant right now with my 1st/2nd child. My first pregnancy ended at 12 weeks and after that devastating loss about a week later I had a complication from the miscarriage and my body went into septic shock and I almost died. I was lucky in that I was already in the hospital so they were able to control the infections and I didn’t end up with a hysterectomy. I think we all go into pregnancy thinking bad things will happen – just not to me. I understand your fears. I’m nervous now, but like you, I understand why I’m nervous and have accepted that this is just how it will be. Every week I feel thankful that I’ve gotten through another week and milestone. Your story is extreme for sure but I think it’s also quite common how many women go through such scary scenarios. Again, thanks for sharing! xoxo
YoungHouseLove says
Aw thanks for sharing right back JRo. I’m so sorry to hear about your loss but I’m also excited for you and your current pregnancy. I agree that it’s not always easy to shake the fear, but there’s lots of love coming your way from Richmond today!
xo,
s
Amy S says
I’m in medical school (halfway through) and hope to become and OB/gyn. You have no idea how amazing it is to read a story like this, to get a glimpse into the thoughts of your future patients. Thanks so much for sharing.
Amanda says
Sherry – Clara is about two months older than my daughter. None of my close friends have had babies yet, so I feel like I went through pregnancy with you! There’s no way to describe how much this little person you don’t even know can change you, and how you can feel so close to someone you can’t even have a conversation with. Thank you for writing this and sharing it with us.
Robin says
Thank you for sharing your story. Amazing and miraculous!
Erin @ The Great Indoors says
Thanks so much for sharing that intense and personal story, a testament to the wonders of modern medicine and to the toughness of you both as parents. What a miracle your little one is! And awesome that as work-from-home parents you can enjoy her every minute of the day. :-)
schmei says
Wow. Thanks for sharing… and I can understand why it still makes you feel shaky. The thought of John waiting alone in his scrubs is heart-rending. I’m so glad the outcome was as wonderful as it was.
I was born very quickly and very blue, with the cord wrapped tight around my neck. My mother has occasionally given me a hard time about making such a dramatic entrance, but I got nothin’ on Clara!
ErinEvelyn says
1 in 4, Sherry. 75% chance of a pregnancy WITHOUT abruption. And of that remaining 25%, you have solid reasons to have confidence in yourself, and John, and the amazing medical folks who witnessed the Miracle of Clara. The analyst in me likes those odds.
YoungHouseLove says
Me too! I just get inside my head and think that my odds of an abruption and cord prolapse at the same time were like one in five million and it happened. So sometimes I have that “of anyone in a room it’ll happen to me” thing. But then I remind myself that “two insane things happened to me at one time, so maybe I got them all out of the way and it’ll be smooth sailing from here on out.” That and just pure odds make me feel a lot braver, so I try to focus on them.
xo,
s
Jamie says
Lol I am the same way Sherry. When I was a teenager I took Accutane and they did semi-regular blood draws to make sure I wasn’t pregnant (since it gives huge birth defects), and I once had a pregnancy test come back false POSITIVE which they said is like way less than a 1% chance (and I most definitely was not pregnant since I’d never had sex)…and then I had placenta previa randomly. So I don’t really trust the odds so much anymore! We should probably start buying lottery tickets ;)
linda says
Sherry, you are so brave and giving of yourself in sharing this story. I had several teary moments relating to the complicated and rapidly-shifting emotions that giving birth engenders, and particularly when there are complications. It is my personal belief that those who had to at one point imagine that their baby might not make it have a certain deep level of appreciation that only comes with things that are hard-won. It took me two ectopic pregnancies and one miscarriage to get my babies here safely. Now I can definitely say that although the trauma is not forgotten, the intensity has worn off, only to be replaced by joy and wonder. Bless you for your candor and many more blessings to you both.
Katie says
You are so strong. Thank you for sharing.
stephanie says
Amazing story. I really had to concentrate on not crying a bunch (I’m at work) when thinking about how scary it must have been for the both of you. It will be a great thing for Clara to know about when she’s older, if she ever things she can do something…she’s already proven that she is one tough cookie. :)
Jamie says
Oh my gosh. My heart aches for you guys and what you went through that day. Clara is such a little miracle.
Kendra says
Hi,
Thanks for sharing your story. I know it must have been hard, but I’m so thankful everything turned out alright.
I don’t know if you and your husband are believers, but I think God must have wonderful plans for your precious, baby girl.
Kendra
Alison says
Sherry and John,
That is an amazing experience your little family had–my heart went out to both of you as I read thru the harrowing details. What an amazing miracle in your lives.
candace @ thecandace.com says
Thank you for sharing your deeply personal story with us, Sherry. I was very emotional reading it – I hope that you can heal a little from writing this day down. And congratulations your fighter of a little girl!
Katie, The Design Apprentice says
Wow, I’m so sorry to hear how frightening your birth story was and I am so grateful for you that Clara turned out perfect. My own Mom had a placenta abruption with me and it was very very scary, it’s a story I grew up hearing because from an early time in her pregnancy (4 months along) she was on bed rest in the hospital until she had me at 7 months (in 1986 it was very scary). You displayed such great Mama instincts from the get go and Clara looks like the happiest little girl alive.
Kelley says
I’ve never commented before, but wanted to tell you that I had tears running down my face reading this. Such an amazing story. I had some scary complications during my second pregnancy, and there’s really nothing to compare it to emotionally. It takes a lot of courage for you to share it here (on your blog). Praise the Lord that you both survived!
Emily says
Girlfriend, you got me tearing up at my desk over here! Such an amazing story. Really makes you thankful for modern medicine. Thank you for sharing! Clara is such an adorably strong little girl!
RobinDenning says
I am so sorry you had to go through that.
Thanks for posting. I am sure your story has helped others who suffered the pain of a less-than-perfect experience.
That includes me, so thank you.
samanthasue says
I am really happy you shared your story. Thank you
Lauren says
Like many others have said, THANK YOU for being brave enough to write your story out. We have a 6 month old little girl, and she also came into the world via emergency c-section. We were lucky though that the situation wasn’t anything near as dire as yours! (her heartrate was dropping, and the nurses hurried around, but noone was running). I feel so much for you and your husband… I really can’t know exactly how you guys felt, but from my situation I could see how crazy scary it was (my own c-section was scary enough!). I can’t imagine the depth of your feelings about any possible second pregnancies, but I really hope you can find the joy in it. Anyway, thank you so much again.
catherine says
ok… so I’ve never commented on any website before but here I am trying to get work done and now I can’t because this hits too close to home!
I am so sorry for your experience. I too had an easy pregnancy with my first baby but around 36 weeks I had a gut feeling that something wasn’t right. I noticed that the baby wasn’t kicking as much as he had been. After mentioning that to my OB, and some follow up appointments with specialists, a team of doctors determined that my unborn baby had a spinal cord tumor. Yup, cancer. Our lives were immediately turned upside down.
18 hours after receiving the cancer diagnosis, I had a c-section. Just like you, the doctors warned me that he probably wouldn’t cry when they took him out. There were about 40 people in the OR, and a tension in the air that freaked me out. When they took him out, the specialists immediately went to work. I got one quick glimpse of him before he was rushed to the NICU. He got his first chemotherapy infusion when he was just one-day old.
Thankfully, just like you, we have been incredibly lucky. My son is now 5 1/2 and a total love. While he does have some complications from the tumor, he is cancer-free! He’s insanely handsome (ok, I’m biased!), loves to ride his bike, and strum his guitar. The doctors told me that my gut feeling that something was wrong saved his life. Literally. I think it was my son sending me a signal.
We now have two more kids. I won’t lie… my second pregnancy was nerve-wracking. Baby #2 was born completely healthy (and a VBAC!) But it’s hard to keep your mind from going to the dark “what if” side since you know it’s not all sweet as pie. But hang in there. Each baby and pregnancy is different. And you are a stronger person now having gone through the last one. It changes your whole being. I value life so much more deeply now. might sound corny, but it’s true.
So thanks for sharing your story.
YoungHouseLove says
Wow- that’s so amazing to hear. What a fantastic little boy you have. And I’m so glad that baby number two was so healthy!
xo,
s
catherine says
I also meant to add that not only was Baby #2 (another boy) completely healthy, but we now have a beautiful, fat, smilling little girl. Life throws us some serious curve balls but I’m happy that it’s made us who we are.
catherine says
I also meant to add that not only was Baby #2 (another boy) completely healthy, but we now have a beautiful, fat, smiling little girl. Life throws us some serious curve balls but I’m happy that it’s made us who we are.
YoungHouseLove says
That’s just amazing. So great to hear!
xo,
s
JZB says
Wow…You are a ROCKSTAR and your daughter is beautiful. Thanks for sharing.
Brooke schaefer says
I have read ur blog for years. I am also a NICU nurse and I lost my own baby in mid January (cord attachment issues). I see babies die from abruptions. When u mentioned it on ur blog last year I wondered what the whole story was. As a mother and a nurse I thank u for telling the story. Sometimes we forget the trauma to the family. I sit at lunch reading this with tears rolling down my face. I am so glad u three are one of the “babies we saved”. Clara. Wonderful.
YoungHouseLove says
Oh Brooke I’m so sorry for your loss. And I have to tell you that the love I feel for NICU nurses is overwhelming. People just like you saved my bean and I’m so intensely thankful.
xo,
s
Sarah B says
NICU nurses deserve a special place in heaven!
Meagan says
Ditto Sarah B — NICU nurses DO deserve a special place in heaven, in our hearts, wherever and everywhere. I was born almost 29 years ago and mom my STILL talks about her NICU nurses. She will never forget all that they did for her and for my two brother and I.