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.
Lacey says
WOW. I just read this with my my heart in my throat. So so so scary. I don’t blame you for waiting a year to post it. So dang traumatic.
Sheri says
Sherry, thank you for sharing your story. I hope you gain more of that SuperMom strength by telling it. Every time I look at my sweet toddler, I can still see the 8 lb, 5 oz baby boy that landed on my chest after 18 hours of labor. Babies are everyday miracles! :)
Ali says
Sherry I am so sorry that you had such a scary experience. Having a little one of my own I can only imagine having those things happen. Thanks for sharing your story and opening up to all of us. Your sweet miracle is simply gorgeous. Praise the Lord she is so healthy!
Meredith says
Um, Lizzy hit enter and submitted that last comment before I was done typing, lol.
Anyway, I was saying that I *TOTALLY* understand what Sherry meant about being on high alert during pregnancy. My mom lost a baby during delivery, so I felt on high-alert the whole time…I felt like I wouldn’t relax until they put her in my arms and said, “She’s just fine.”
YoungHouseLove says
I’m so sorry to hear about your mom’s loss. It’s clear to see why it contributed to your fears during pregnancy. I remember when you had Lizzy I was prego and I was so excited to see her come into the world. Your pregnancy gave me courage about my own (little did I know what was ahead, but we all made it through) so thanks for that Meredith!
xo,
s
Maris says
Sherry & John – your story shows that miracles really do come true. Thanks for opening up on something that is intensely private and personal, I am positive that you have indelibly touched countless women with your story. Keep the positive thoughts and enjoy all the joy that Clara will bring!
Lindsay @ A Walk in the Closet says
This was such a riveting story. I read through the entire thing in one breath. What a miracle baby Clara is! Thank you so much for sharing.
Laura says
Wow, I’m literally crying at my desk at work. What an amazing story, and how lucky you are to be blessed with her. I hope your next baby bean takes it easy on your insides!
jana says
Thank you for sharing this. It is so touching, and I’m so happy for your family to have been blessed with your sweet little bean. :-) she’s living proof that miracles happen
Jessie says
I’m bawling at work reading this story (the hormones may have something to do with that though!). I’m expecting my first in October; I also have a very small frame, and my mother had very fast delieveries too (the longest one beingn 2 1/2 hours). I’m hoping for that, but of course scared for the worst. My husband is currently deployed oversees and will not be able to be home for the delivery. While I’ve come to grips with him missing the birth, I am terrified something will “go wrong” and I will not have him there to hold my hand.
Glad that your story has such a happy ending, Clara is the sweetest girl ever!
Christin says
I almost cried there a few times reading your story. I can’t even imagine. Thank you for sharing. It’s a very personal story, but I think you have probably helped so many readers by sharing it. God bless you 3!
Mary says
This made me cry – thank God you and precious Clara were/are okay, what a gift! I’m like you, I’d be on high alert next time, but the good news is that John now works at home, we won’t allow him to go out for any lunches, not even to Home Depot, nowhere after, what, let’s make it conception :) Love you guys, thanks for sharing your story with us – and I hope it *was* healing.
YoungHouseLove says
Haha it’s true. I’m pretty sure when I get pregnant in a few years John will always be within about ten feet of me from day one. Haha.
xo,
s
Melinda says
Sherry you are an amazing woman. I had tears reading your story.
I had my son six months ago, and I had major complications. My son was ok, but I lost half of my blood, almost had a hystorectomy and had complications post-c-section. My OB for 2 weeks kept recounting the story in shock that I came out of it alive. I was also told that I should never have another child as it is guaranteed that I will have the same issues.
The moments I remember are when my husband was told to get out of the theatre. That was the lonliest moment of my life. I also remember the curtain they put up kept inching its way down and I could start to see a reflection of what was happening on the light thingy. I just wanted to hold it up so I couldnt see anything, but I couldnt speak to get someone else to do it.
Katie says
Wow, thanks for getting me all weepy at work. I’m not even much of a baby person, but I recently almost lost my little sister due to complications in childbirth so that feeling of shock and stress is really fresh. Isn’t it amazing how quickly life can change? I am so grateful that everything turned out well for you guys. That was a goosebumpy read, I’ll tell ya. ;)
Heather says
I am sitting here crying like a baby at work, but I am so glad I read this. Thank you so much for sharing this Sherry. I can only imagine how scary that day was and how intensely it must come back when you talk about it.
Bless you and John and little Clara!
Birgit K. says
Thanks so much for sharing your story! I know it’s hard to really face these things and to really relive the memories, but it is part of the healing. You OR story brought back a whole lot of memories for myself. I too had an emergency c-section and when they pulled out my boy, he screamed the place down, but my girl made not one peep (I had twins.) You really do freeze in time somehow – and in horror. And even when you think you’re prepared, you’re not ever prepared for your child not making a sound! The frenzied activity in the OR, the bad APGAR score … In our case it didn’t end there, even though we were also really lucky in the end. But our little girl had to be intubated and air-lifted across town to the NICU etc I only got to see her 4 days later. BUT and that is the big but, she is fine now! We had to fight for a few months due to her rather rare condition that didn’t allow her to breathe deeply without turning blue, but my kids are 5.5 years now – happy and healthy and that is all that counts in the end!
Hang in there and when the time comes to be pregnant for the second time, allow yourself to be scared, but not so much that you miss all the good stuff! :)
YoungHouseLove says
I’m so glad she’s ok! What a scary experience but such a great ending!
xo,
s
Maggie Rose says
In tears at work. When I read what your friend had overheard that “the baby actually survived” I just want to scoop up Clara and hug her! What a sweet little miracle you have. I’m so so glad everyone came home safe and healthy. The emotional healing will happen over time. We’re not planning for kids for a few years still but I do have high anxiety and know that I’ll be that future-mama who calls the doc with every ache, pain, and pinch. Sending a big family group hug to you all!
Tiffini S. says
Thanks so much for sharing. I should have stopped at the first ‘scary’ since I’m 24 weeks with twins and just going on bed rest. But I could not stop reading.
We had an emergency c-section as well with our first. It is scary to see things going along all normal, then two minutes later they’re cutting you open. I remember waiting for that cry, and ours, fortunately came a lot sooner.
I’m so glad you’re healing, mentally and physically, and that you’re able to have more babies. That’s the hardest with birth complications. We were told we could not have more after our son, then on his third birthday, I found out it was not the flu, but a total miracle pregnancy. A few weeks later, we found out it was twins, and now we know they are identical girls. It’s not a good pregnancy, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. So even if your second isn’t perfect, and you’re petrified every single day, you’ll still love it and be anxious to meet that little bundle. I’m not gonna lie, it is terrifying, but SO worth it. Best of luck!
Lynne Wesenberg says
Oh, boy, I cried right along with you reading this. My first pregnancy ended with a c-section, too. And I was right with you on the “just get the baby out safe” instead of any irrational disappointment at not having delivered naturally. Luckily I did not have any of the scary stuff you guys had with Clara, but did have to go through another pregnancy wondering about the ending. We decided to go with a planned c-section that time and it worked out great. The whole goal is healthy, happy kids, so who cares if we can’t have textbook deliveries. Thanks for sharing and we will all be right with you the next time :) I will be sending lots of positive energy to help you through.
By the way, early Happy Birthday to your adorable Clara!!!
Joellyn says
Sherry,
I had a placenta abruption at 14 weeks and I have a beautiful daughter to show for it. Even having one that early isn’t the end of all hope, so be encouraged! The medical care available today is such a blessing. Blessings to you and your adorable family.
I wrote about my experience here if you are interested:
http://www.montanaprairietales.com/blog/2009/12/14/plans-are-what-you-make-until-you-know-what-youre-doing.html
YoungHouseLove says
Thanks so much for sharing the link. You have no idea how much stories like yours give me courage.
xo,
s
Jennifer says
I’ve been reading your blog for several months now, and I’ve never actually posted on one of your blog posts before, but I was so touched by your story today – it made me cry at work. You are a strong woman and such a wonderful mother and you’ve provided so much support, knowledge, and happiness to your readers. Thank you for sharing your story.
JMay says
Wow! What an amazing and powerful story. You should be so proud of yourself for writing it down and looking that fear so strongly in its eye. I just know you’re going to inspire so many people to write down their own too-scary-for-words story. Good for you girl!
Lauren B says
Tears in my eyes reading this – only trying to imagine the fear you guys felt. As a medical professional – I know you truly did hit the lottery with these complications. What a blessing the Beanette truly is!! Please know – when it comes time for more little beans…. you’ll have a whole web world sending good wishes and positivity your way!
Alex R. says
Pregnancy and birth is truly such a miracle and it’s sad that when everything goes perfect some people don’t see just how amazing it is. But for us who went through so much for our babies to get here (I have a delivery and recovery horror story too) we can see what an amazing gift we’ve been given. It is something I thank God for every night as I put my now 3 year old girl to sleep.
katie says
Thank you for sharing your story. God bless all three of you!! So emotional but so sweet! Thank God for such a wonderful outcome.
Leanne says
Oh, Sherry. I’m so sad to hear this, but am thankful for you for sharing your story. This happened to a very dear friend of mine about a year and a half ago. Sadly, her little one didn’t make it and was stillborn after 39 weeks of a perfect pregnancy. She had to go home to a finished nursery and a home full of promise. She’s pregnant again and ready to have a beautiful little girl in July. It was high risk, but everything has gone well, so far. She’ll be induced at least 4 weeks early.
Thank you for sharing.
YoungHouseLove says
I’m so sorry to hear about your friend’s loss. How heartbreaking. But I’m so happy to hear that she’s due again in July! Best wishes to her and her little one on the way.
xo,
s
Emily Phillips says
Wow. God was watching out for the Petersik family. It’s so evident that His hand was at work throughout your experience! Thanks for sharing. Enjoy celebrating Clara in the weeks ahead…as you already do! :)
Michelle Perry says
I started to cry the first paragraph in, and was bawling by the time you were rushed to the operating room; and for the rest of the story. What a dramatic story with a happy ending. I also had an emergency c-section, but no where near for the reason you had one. I was in labor for 43 hours, with my son’s heart rate dropping with every contraction towards the end, and taking over a minute to recover.
You are an amazing strong woman! And Clara is such a happy baby. Happy Early Birthday Clara!!!!
Ashley says
How courageous and transparent of you both to share this story with us. Thank you :) prayers for a healthy second pregnancy when the time is right :)
Robin says
Thank you for sharing your moving story! I really believe that telling stories is powerful and important for healing.
I’ve recently started following your blog and am enjoying your posts! Thanks for the great work.
Amanda says
Wow… thanks for sharing your story. You definately ended up with a beautiful baby girl! My friend and I both read your blog and we were just talking the other day how we’ve never seen pictures of a happier baby! What a blessing from above little Clara is!
emily anne says
Thanks for sharing this. My daughter was born one day before Clara on the lucky 13th. 2 1/2 years earlier my son was born by an emergency C-section after 40 hours of labor which physically put me out for over 2 months and mentally gave me serious post-partum anxiety. Even when he slept I could not sleep. It was a dark, dark time for my husband and me.
We had to switch doctors and midwives a few times to find a practice that was truly in support of a VBAC the second time around. We also hired a wonderful doula (a notion we laughed at during my first pregnancy) to coach and be our advocate at the hospital. I had a natural unmedicated birth and it was the best experience of my life. Literally 2 hours after giving birth to Rosemary I was eating Twix bars and watching “Kitchen Nightmares” in the recovery room. What a difference!
Even if you have to have another C-section, next time it will be under YOUR terms which will make all the difference in the world. Happy Birthday (I think it’s sort of like a birthday for you, too!)
Dee in BC says
Hi- Glad all is well now. I went through something similiar. With my 1st son he was born with the cord wrapped around his neck-the nasty doctor who was covering for my phyician kept telling me I wasn’t trying hard enough to push him out & that was why the we were getting signs of fetal distress ( I still think she was ticked that my 3 week early labour had messed up her Easter weekend)I kept hearing “everything’s fine except YOU are not TRYING hard enough” at this point I’d been in labour for 12 hours without pain meds.I kept hearing her say to the assisting nurse as my son was born ” Finally-It’s fine – no cord ” Then all of a sudden “OH S@#T- Cord” She reched for & dropped the instrument tray just as our babe showed up -It’s scary when the your baby is blue, limp & silent-The pediatrician on call had arrived & took our son to the other side of the room – was telling me our boy was doing well when the placenta abruptly detached & I hemmorraged- The delivering doctor was standing by my head for some reason & yelled ” I can’t get a b/p ( blood pressure) on the mom – we’re losing her” I still wonder why she had to say that – I could hear her & gave my husband the oxygen mask to put on me ( still not sure why she picked him – there were actual medical personel in the room – they’d called a code & what looked like about 10 more people had come running in- meanwhile I’m feeling like I’m going to be sick & am trying to pull off the mask & fight off my husband who is determined to keep that oxy mask on my face “because the doctor told him to ” Hubby is over a foot taller & about 110lbs heavier than I am. (yes- this is sort of funny in hindsight) The doctor has managed to stop the hemmorage- While creating a whole slew of other problems & is telling me she is now sending me for surgery- Thankfully an Ob/Gyn was called and showed up then – He escorted her out of the room & advised me of the much less invasive treatment plan. My usual family doctor appologised for not being there every time I saw her for the duration of the time we lived in that area.(She wasn’t on rotation for the long weekend & hadn’t left instructions to be called a it was still 3 weeks until the expected due date.) Our son is fine, though we worried a lot about his slightly slower developement in his first few years. He turned 11 last week and is completely normal. 4 & a half years later his younger brother was born – there were terrifying, completely different ( and non-related) complications with this pregnancy, though the labour was uncomplicated & straight forward- just very long at 18+ hours ( again , no pain meds.) All though both pregnancies I kept reminding myself that I’d be no less sad & would grieve no less if the pregnacy did not end successfully for being happy & looking forward to holding a new baby every day that I was pregnant ( & remembering that the vast majority of pregnancies do end happily.) Today I’m so thankful to be the mom of 2 typically average wonderful boys.-Dee
Micaela says
I had tears in my eyes the whole time I read this – you and your baby girl, and of course John are so amazing. I think the only thing that got me through it was knowing that it had a happy ending.
All this time we knew she was the cutest, most bright-eyed baby girl, but we didn’t know she was such a fighter. What a little miracle.
Gaidig says
What a heart wrenching experience! I am so glad that the ending was such a happy one. One of my friends had a frightening first birth experience, but her second was just fine. May it be the same for you.
Tara says
Thanks for sharing your amazing story with us.Clara is truly adorable. Looking back you probably realise how strong your little beanette was even as a newborn.May god always bless your beautiful family.
Cheryl Mattis says
What a frightening experience. I was also told not to expect to hear my first baby cry. She was making her arrival 2 months early. I can relate to the surreal, out of body feeling, like your just watching. I think it’s our minds way of protecting us from feelings that are just too overwhelming to experience in the moment. So very happy that your story had such a happy ending. My 4 pound preemie is now a beautiful 5’9″, 23 year old young woman but I can remember the day she was born like it was yesterday. Thank you for sharing your story!
Izabela says
Thank you for sharing your story. Clara is beautiful, and always a joy to see. I know what you mean about being petrified the second time around. I lost my first baby to a miscarriage, and I swore off having more babies. Thanks to my hubby, friends, and family, I decided to give it another try and now have a healthy baby girl (she’ll be 2 in August) I am so happy you had a great team.
Meg says
((crying))…Amazing…thank you for sharing…I can totally get why you would need to not share this right away it sounded traumatic
Thelma musser says
You are SO SO blessed. You have me crying here!
I have a acquaintance/friend who had the same thing happen to her and the baby did not make it. It was a horrible shocking labor. I’m SO glad you guys did not suffer the same fate.
YoungHouseLove says
I’m so sorry to hear about your friend. It is so scary to think about how some people experience when we went through and have a different ending. We are so full of gratitude it’s ridiculous.
xo,
s
Jenn says
It’s good to know I’m not the only person sitting infront of their computer crying. I’m also glad I didn’t read this at work because that’s always an awkward thing to explain (or so I imagine, I generally stop and save the rest for home). Anyway, I’m so glad this had a happy ending. She’s a lucky beautiful baby.
Meg says
Wow and I thought our 3rd birth experience was bad… our little one had the cord wrapped around his neck cutting off his oxygen for who knows how long but is living a healthy and normal life now. It’s so great to hear their cry isn’t it?!?!?! So glad everything worked out for you guys. Congrats for your first year as a family!
Meg
Stephanie N says
Wow! What a story! I’m glad everything turned out well in the end!
My sister just gave birth to her twins who were not due until early July (altough the doc wasn’t going to let her go past June 18th). Her water broke at 12:30am Tuesday morning. They tried to stop the contractions with no luck and she ended up with a c-section during the 4 o’clock AM hour Tuesday. Ella is 3 lbs 4 oz and Layla is 2 lbs 14 oz. Seeing them yesterday just blows my mind. Giving birth is truly a miracle!
Erin says
I also had a placental abruption with my daughter, born June 13 of last year. Like you, we were truly lucky that she’s perfect and healthy, but I struggle with the thought of doing it all over again and not having such a happy ending next time.
I was recently telling a friend that my wedding day was the happiest day of my life. But then I thought, “wait a minute, shouldn’t my baby’s birth be the happiest day of my life?” but if I’m being honest? It was the most stressful, traumatic, terrifying day of my life and I still cry thinking about it. I have a lot more processing to do before I get to a good mindset about it, and who knows if I ever will!
Ashley says
Wow, I’m bawling. A lot. Every time I read your blog now I’ll be praying for your body to heal perfect and strong and that God will flood your heart with peace and assurance during your next pregnancies. You WILL have more children. And they WILL be perfect. Thank you for being so vulnerable.
Therese says
Wow. At 33 weeks pregnant I have to be completely honest–your story scared the bejesus out of me and definitely brought tears to my eyes.
Thank you so much for sharing though! Clara really is a miracle baby :)
Shelley says
Reading that brought tears to my eyes. I am so glad everything worked out for both of you. Isn’t it amazing how much you can love a child even before you “meet” them? Thankfully, both of my boys were born without any complications but I have a few friends who had some major issues – although I don’t think any were as scary as yours. It makes you realize how precious life is!
Elisha says
What an awesomely amazing story! It had me in tears. Thank you for sharing it with us and I hope it helps you heal a lil’ bit. I’m so happy everything came out okay and you guys have a healthy, beautiful, happy baby girl.
Shelley @ Single Stone Studios says
So odd for me to read this story having just passed a year anniversary of a serious diganosis for my daughter. Type 1 diabetes. It’s been a heavy couple weeks of processing and I am just beginning to really talk about it myself – not without tears but still starting to be able to share about it. It’s amazing how a day, a moment, can cange your life and how far you can come in 1 yr. This mommy and daddy gig isn’t for sissies ;) but it’s the best gig on earth!
Jennifer T. says
Thank you for sharing. So thankful that you both are okay! :)
Shannon says
That’s so scary! My best friend delivered her second baby and found out that she could have had a placental abruption at any point during her pregnancy, even if she had gotten bumped in the car or something. But she’s on her fourth pregnancy (!) and everything has been fine and normal since, with very low risks for this one and her third. But I’m so thankful you shared your story, as tough as it is! Such a miracle!