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.
Sandra Ann says
Sherry-
I really appreciate you sharing that… I have a little boy a year older than Clara, and I can totally relate to taking a while to process everything that happened with his birth. Even though our experiences were so different (mine was at home with a midwife and very fast like your mom’s), it can be amazingly beautiful and traumatic at the same time. I don’t even remember him actually being “born”— it’s like a black hole in my memory because everything happened so fast and was so intensely painful. And you’re right: after the first, you do wonder how you/I could have been so healthy and carefree… I think I would also be more fearful next time and more appreciative if I’m blessed with a next time. There’s nothing comparable to having those precious children in our lives. We all feel like we know you guys, so thank you again for sharing something so personal.
Daniella says
Wow that post was intense! Thank you so much for sharing such a personal and emotional story. I had to hold back tears so my coworkers didn’t wonder why I was crying at 8:30am!
Yes, Henrico Doctor’s rock!
Trisha D. says
Wow- I’m sure it’s the central theme of all the comments given (I haven’t read through them all yet).
You all went through such a terrifying, yet amazing experience. Before it was posted, I always wondered what was so traumatic about the birth where you couldn’t have children for 2 years. Thank you for sharing your story; you have such amazing courage to share it with the world. I especially liked the part where you skipped over the scary section in the birth book, and how at the end of the post you basically mentioned- hey anything can happen to anyone.
Now that it’s written down, it will probably be a great thing for Clara when she’s older to make her feel as special as she has throughout her life already.
My hubby and I aren’t planning on children for a while (haven’t really decided if we want one yet or not), but this story –even as traumatic as it was— makes me pro baby. Especially when I read about the instant love you felt for Clara and how much you wanted to hear her cry. How you were so worried about John and Clara at the same time and the thoughts that ran through your head; makes it seem like the word ‘love’ took a step further that day (not only with a new addition but with experience which brought you all closer together). My hubby and I have terrible luck, I could see something completely bizarre happen and would hope we have a wonderful outcome.
P.S. Sorry this comment ended up a lot longer than I expected.
T.D. says
Oh forgot to mention it- the story brought me to tears on many occasions.
nikki says
what an emotional post! i started reading your blog religiously last year at about the time Clara came to be. bawled my eyes out reading this. lucky doesn’t cut it. you are truly BLESSED!
aubry says
Reading this story makes Clara and you that much more beautiful. Such strong ladies you are!
Now if I can stop crying. :)
Cheri says
Thank you for sharing this with us. What an amazing, intense journey and truly a miraculous story for both you and Clara. I can definitely understand why you chose to wait before sharing it, but I hope that this does help you process everything and heal in every way.
A note of encouragement: a good friend had a placental abruption with her first and was immediately put under general anaesthesia so they could deliver the baby. Her little boy is a happy, healthy seven-year-old now, and they had a great pregnancy and delivery with their second child with no complications. Here’s wishing you the same!
YoungHouseLove says
That’s so great to hear! You guys really are making my day with all of the support and other experiences that you’re sharing. Love you all.
xo,
s
Renee says
OK. I’m a police officer, reading your blog during my lunch break, and you have me crying! Your writing is s descriptive that I almost felt like I was in the delivery room with you. I was in labor for 14 hours with my first daughter and only 2 hours with my second, so you will learn that every baby is a totally different an unique experience. I’ve enjoyed following your journey as new parents over this past year & congratulate you on a job very well done. Thanks for sharing with all of us & please give Clara a big birthday kiss for me! xo
Crista says
I didn’t expect to cry but I did! I’m a doc, and you’re right, death is not uncommon for mom or fetus.
Something to think about, I don’t know if you’re still breastfeeding or maybe with baby #2 but you might check into a local group that breastfeeds babies because the moms did die during labor and the dads still want their babies to have the breastfeeding experience. Very tender.
YoungHouseLove says
Wow- I am still breastfeeding and I would love to help. Thanks so much for the info!
xo,
s
Jillian says
Oh wow. This wasn’t what I was expecting when I pulled up your page today but I’m so very thankful that you shared your experience with us. I can’t imagine how hard it was for you to put that into words (let alone actually have to deal with it to begin with!).
I’m curious, does John plan on writing about this day? I know (well, not really know but can empathize) that it would be extremely difficult but it might be helpful and healing for him.
YoungHouseLove says
He has talked about it a lot with friends (and his parents) but I think he knew that it would help me heal a lot more by blogging about it. He’s more excited to blog about demo and reno and all that beefy home improvement stuff. Haha. He sticks to talking to close family and friends (and me) when it comes to the hard stuff.
xo,
s
Jaime A. says
Wow. I completely understand your hesitation to post early on – but what a story.
When I was pregnant with my third baby, at 28 weeks 1 day, my placenta abrupted. I literally heard a “pop” and chaos ensued (you can imagine the gory details). We called 911 at 3:15. He was born at 4:08. My third c-section. Nic weighed 3 lbs (the only time gestational diabetes is a good thing!). And after a few scares (and a very minor heart surgery), he came home 7 weeks later (before he was even due). He’s now 4 1/2 – and there’s not a thing wrong with him. Most people don’t even know he was a preemie.
But – that experience has affected us in regards to having more children. I always wanted 4 – but because I have a history of pre-term labor, 3 c-sections, and now placental abruption – we figured we better not chance it. ;)
I think the positive for you, S, is that future pregnancies will be a bit more closely monitored – that means more sneak peaks of [future] babies. Who doesn’t love that?!
Thank you for sharing Clara’s story! She really is the sweetest thing! ;)
YoungHouseLove says
Wow- I’m so glad Nic was ok. I can’t imagine hearing a pop. And I’m so glad he’s a spirited little 4 1/2 year old now!
xo,
s
Katie K says
WOW!! Thank you so much for sharing!!! I’m so happy this story had a happy ending!!!
Jenny says
Clara is such a beautiful baby and its such a pleasure to get to know her through your blog. Thank you for sharing your story with the world. I know as hard as it is, you must try to follow your husbands advice and allow your next time around to be just a beautiful and as much as possible without fear. For myself, being a cancer survivor, I live every day with the idea that “maybe” there is more or its back etc. I have to try (as hard as it is) to live without the fear and worry that can so easily overwhelm. Now you are aware and understand possible future complications but do all you can to choose not to fear or give over your mind to worry. For myself, I believe in God and pray whenever I worry. In fact, I don’t just struggle with past cancer but I discovered that I have Lynch syndrome with is a genetic disorder that pre-disposes me to cancer of multiple areas. Also, it means that my children have 50 percent chance of inheriting it. When my husband I learned that, we wondered if we should even have children! Through many tears we still wonder about our future;
You commented, ‘should I even bother setting up a nursery-?’ Well, I mean consider us, we wonder the same things, ‘should we even bother buying a house with extra bedrooms-?’ ‘should we even start preparing for a family-?’ — All difficult decisions, but we believe that no matter what God is above all things and more powerful than any circumstances: for good or bad.
I just wanted to encourage you and thank you for sharing your and Clara’s story.
kristinrose24 says
Thanks for sharing your story. I’m sure it took a lot of strength! I can’t imagine going through what you did, but I’m so happy everything turned out ok. I have two sisters that had placental abruptions and I was terrified that it would happen to me. My family has one gene of a clotting disease called Factor V Leiden, which can increase the risk for abruptions. http://ibis-birthdefects.org/start/f5fact.htm
We happened to find out about it because my aunt was tested for some reason, and once we found that out, many of us were tested for it. Besides that, there were no other risk factors for my sisters. My doctor was unaware that Factor V would be an increased risk. I just wanted to let you know! Again, I’m so happy that Clara has blessed your lives, and is almost a year old!
YoungHouseLove says
Thanks so much for that link. I’ll have to check it out for sure! I’m known as “a bleeder” (even by the doc who performed my c-section) so I should check it out.
xo,
s
Mandi says
Thank you for sharing.
What an amazing story, you are an amazing woman with an amazing daughter now! :))
Lydia says
I just wanted to say thank you so much for sharing your story. It takes a lot of courage to do that.
I had a miscarriage two months ago, when I was 17 weeks pregnant. Delivering a dead baby is not fun.
Writing out my story has helped me cope, although every day is still hard. I hope that writing Clara’s birth story has helped you. Not all pregnancies have a happy ending but I’m so glad yours did. Enjoy every moment with your sweet girl!
YoungHouseLove says
So sorry for your loss Lydia. I can’t imagine. Thinking of you.
xo,
s
cassy says
Such an amazing and emotional story! It had me teary eyes the entire time I was reading it. Thanks for sharing! So glad you are both happy and healthy and I wish you all the best in future pregnancies.
Dusty says
Wow, what an experience. It’s so crazy the vision we all have for our labor/delivery and at the end of it all – we all want the same thing. A healthy baby (and healthy mom). My little girl is almost 5 months old and it took me several weeks to talk about my birth experience without tearing up and several months of totally accepting it for what it was and being okay with that. It definitely didn’t go the way I had planned, but I have a beautiful, happy, healthy little girl that I adore! Thanks for sharing your story!
misa says
i’m here at work, crying. it’s strange and amazing the way the internet has created these avenues of connectivity–because i “hear” from you every week day, i feel as if i know you. when clara was born, it was as meaningful to me as the births of my close friends’ babies.
i am so happy and grateful to watch your beautiful daughter grow up. thank you for sharing.
Joy says
Sherry, I’ve been reading and following along with your home adventures with John for over 2 years now and haven’t ever commented before (though I’m always inspired and think I’ve learned a lot from you on how to decorate!) Your story is truly touching, and my heart broke for you as I was reading it. Both you and John have shared so much of your personality and lives with us, so it feels as though I know you and will always wish for your well-being. Thank you for sharing your story with us. :)
Rachel says
I have had 4 handsome baby boys (ages 9,7,6, and 17mos) and had to have sections with all 4. I had an abruption scare with the last baby and was on bed rest for 15wks thanks to that and my BP. It was SO scary….I am thankful that you and I can share the joy of motherhood and the glory of healthy children that are not always a promise from God!
Jessica says
Wow. You’re quite correct that you won’t be able to relax with the second pregnancy… Just try to take it one day at a time… We miscarried our first baby at 20 weeks. They couldn’t figure out why. So we waited 18 months as stated and tried again. We had to endure more monitoring, and general unease (for me at least) through the entire thing. I was terrified and my husband just couldn’t understand. As of now we have 2 beautiful girls, so things work out.
Be strong during your next pregnancy. Be aware, and yes try to enjoy it, and don’t get too frustrated if John doesn’t “get it.” My husband didn’t. As my Ob said, mothers fall in love with their baby at first kick, fathers fall in love with the baby in their arms…
KiTX says
I hope writing out the Petersik story does help with the healing of the whole event, and so glad all 3 of you came through the experience okay. Give Clara extra hugs for us all today, and thank you for sharing!
Elsa says
Such an emotional story to read! It’s no wonder you needed some time to pass before telling it. I think your readers feel a real closeness to you, John and Clara and appreciate you sharing your amazingly scary and (in the end) happy story. I don’t imagine you will ever forget the severity of what happened but hopefully, writing about this will prove to be (at least somewhat) therapeutic for you and John.
aLi says
Thank you for sharing your story. My husband and I are just starting to think of having a little one. Your love for your baby shines through your story and brings being a mother to another level.
Ann says
Sherry, thank you so much for sharing your story. It is greatly appreciated by those of us planning a pregnancy or ready to conclude one.
Pamela B says
Oh my gosh, what an incredible and equally terrifying story. Who would have known that your seemingly perfect lives had to endure such drama to bring little Clara into the world. Good things happen to good people, so you were obviously meant to have this gorgeous little girl in your lives. Thank you for sharing your story! Enjoy every precious moment :)
DebInNYC says
Hi Sherry,
I too had an emergency C-Section in an effort to save my baby girl. She suffered Hypertrophy Cardio Myopathy (the walls in her heart were so swollen they couldn’t pump blood.) Nineteen years later she is a beautiful college freshman!
However, the thought of another child suffering like my daughter did was almost to much to imagine. My remedy, and I know many will disagree, was to plan my next child’s birth via a planned c-section. That way I felt in control and knew that the doctors would get my son out in a controlled, organized, and safe way. The recovery was a small price to pay to have two beautiful healthy teenagers.
I can tell you in time, you wont be afraid any more and these feelings will be a distant memory. Go hug your baby! :)
Xo D
Sarah M. says
Wow. Made me teary eyed, because my story was so similar. My son is a month older than Clara. I had a difficult, high risk pregnancy, so the birth was the least of my worries. I ended up with an emergency c-section, and for some reason (which I’m not clear on) they had to wait for a second doctor to arrive to do the c-section. It took the 20 most agonizing minutes of my life for that doctor to arrive. I don’t wish an EMERGENCY c-section on anyone, but I’m forever grateful that they exist, and that it saved my son’s life (and your little Clara as well). Thank you for being open about your experience and how scared you are about future pregnancies (because I’m feeling all that too). Here’s to happy, healthy and safe pregnancies and deliveries in the future!
Kim says
Thanks for sharing your story, Sherry. Reading your experience was like flashing back to my experience with my sister when she went into an emergency c-section 5 weeks early and I was standing by her side not knowing what to do or how to do it. I remember waiting to hear her son cry and fighting back tears when he didn’t. He’s a strong little boy and still fighting but he’s here and such a blessing to our family. I admire you for trusting us with your personal story and am so glad that your little one is healthy, happy, and about to turn one! Many blessings to you all!
Alyssa says
Thank you for being so brave to share your story. This is scary and traumatizing, but a testament to your love as a mother and to the amazing little girl you have now.
Jessi says
Thanks for sharing your story. It was a beautiful (albeit harrowing) reminder of how, even in the most powerless situations, we can choose how to respond … in the end. You’re taking a terrifying situation and trying to embrace what good you can find, so you can move forward and embrace life… and you’re little bean:) Beyond all the fabulous DIY stuff you guys do, that’s what I feel this blog is all about. Thanks for being brave, and good luck to all of you…future beans included!
Mary Thomas says
Wow, reading this brought tears to my eyes. My healthy son is about four months younger than your beautiful daughter. We are so, so, so blessed. I totally understand the fear. Birth (even without complications) is such a crazy wild ride, there is just nothing in life that really prepares you for that. Recovering from the injuries from his birth took me eight weeks, and I have even been talking about adoption with my husband. Phew, making people is scary hard. Thinking of what you and John went through in those awful moments makes me cry, especially every second that my love grows even bigger and more fierce for my little guy. I am so glad that you guys DID get a happy ending and were able to share that with others. Happy Upcoming Birthday Clara Girl! Sending lots of stranger-blog love to you and yours!
Caroline says
Wow! Thanks for sharing, it is so very eye-opening. You are a very strong woman. And I am SO glad your beautiful Clara is here and healthy.
Shelley J says
wow. It took me all morning to read because it is only my second day back at work after being at home with my baby girl for almost a year (she was born 5 days before Clara)and I am a little emotional.
I had a rough labour with some scares but nothing litk your. Thank you so much for sharing.
Sandra says
Talk about a miracle baby…..I know you really get how lucky you guys are and understand why you are just so nuts about her. Has I was reading this post and crying my eyes out I was thinking at every word…wow how lucky. I understand. It happened to me, my first pregnancy, at 25 weeks, abruption of the placenta, they had no time to save him as his little heart stopped beating before we knew what was going on. Still had to give birth to him, this is a long story cut short but even with the sadness and the quietness of having to give birth in this deadly silence, we got to hold him (even at 25 weeks, he was all there, he was about 2 pounds)and named him and got his little hand and feet prints …..They give a lot of support because it’s a part of the grieving process….if they take the baby from a c-section this could feel unreal so that is why that, if possible they prefer you have it naturally. So Clara is a miracle little girl ;-)
At my second pregnancy (4 months after, according to my doctor I only had to wait 3 months)I was petrified all the way, I don’t know how I even got the courage to be pregnant again so soon after…I guess the desire to have a child was too strong, but I was scared every second of every day because I knew that anything could happen at any time, pregnancies are really 50-50 until you have them in your harms. Anyway we have our miracle baby as well, beautiful little girl who is perfect and that we are crazy about, she is now 3 and we thank god every day for having her. Please disregard all of my lack of vocabulary and grammatical errors, I am a French Canadian. I love you blog, it’s my daily read, and you have inspired me to do so much in my house. Beautiful homage to Clara today.
YoungHouseLove says
Wow thanks so much for sharing your story. I’m so sorry to hear about the loss of your little boy but so happy that your daughter came along and is just perfect!
xo,
s
Monica says
Add me to the list of criers. I know it helps to write it all out. I had pregnancy induced heart failure, so I know that scared to death feeling. My son was born healthy but I had this image of me dying, I remember laying in the ER thinking he would never know how much I loved him, and that we had no video of us together. Makes me tear up just thinking of it, and it’s been almost 6 years. We have been too scared to try again so he is an only.
YoungHouseLove says
That’s so scary and sad! So glad everything was ok!
xo,
s
Sarah says
Sherry, what a story. Just a few sentences in and I started telling myself, maybe I shouldn’t be reading this at work. I kept reading [I was sucked in!] and then I had to close the window and save it for when I get home. Even though I obviously know there was a happy ending, I still had to navigate back to your page to finish reading it just a minute later- I couldn’t wait. THEN= “I guess I was crying for her.” I lost it. Thank you for sharing such a personal experience. Your words were truly touching- no wonder you landed a book deal :) You and John have a beautiful little family and you are all such a blessing. <3
Meghan M. says
Wow. What an incredible story. Tear jerking, scary and miraculous all at the same time. Someone must have been watching over you and your little family : )
Also…I think you need a disclaimer at the top of the post: “Do not read at work unless comfortable crying in front of co-workers + boss.”
: )
YoungHouseLove says
Haha, I had no idea it would be so tear-inducing! I thought “heck, they know how it ends” – haha. But it’s very touching that you guys feel so much love for my little bean. Seriously it’s amazing.
xo,
s
Jessica Diamond says
Thank you so much for sharing your story. I was almost in tears just from reading it. It also brought back those memories from when I my son, Landon, a little over a year ago. March 31st, 2010 to be exact. Our complications weren’t like your complications were but we definitely had our share of them. I was in labor for over 30 hours and it took 1 1/2 hours to push my son out. I didn’t get to see him or touch him once he finally came out. He wasn’t crying when he came out and I was told that he wasn’t breathing either. They rushed him out and had to do an oxygen mask and everything. So, I know what it feels like to have those thoughts put into your head. Will this turn out good or bad. Luckily, for you and me, they turned out great!
rachel says
Wow Sherry, thats incredible! Thank you so much for sharing… you definitely made me cry (at work) twice. I am not a mama so i know i cant know what you went through but i admire your strength and honesty. Clara is exactly a 50/50 mix of the two of you and I’m so glad you have a healthy Sheron… Johrry? Ok, no… a healthy Clara :)
By the way… me and miss Clara share the same birthday :) i remember when you had a contest on who would guess her birthday correctly… initially i guessed my birthday because that would be fun but there was “no way” she would be born on my birthday….. happy to be wrong!
Lauren says
I am so glad everything worked out and my thoughts & prayers are with your family.
Wrenaria says
Scary! I’m glad everything turned out okay and you ended up with your beautiful whole baby girl. Hopefully next time things will go more like how they did for your mama: quick and easy. My mom was quick like that too. I was born in under an hour of labor (and nearly 10 lbs). Crazy.
Thanks for sharing such an intimate story with us. Just from glancing through the comments I can see many empathize with your experience. <3 to your family.
Coleen says
I’m so sorry that you you and John had such a scare with Clara and I’m so happy that she is OK.
I know how you feel about the loss of the happy go lucky feeling. I was nervous with my first pregnancy until after 12 weeks, then I was sure everything would be fine. Sadly at our 20 week ultrasound they found catastrophic issues and diagnosed our son with Trisomy 18. He passed away 2 weeks later. Checking in to the maternity ward to be induced to deliver my son after he had died was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. We were assured that it was highly unlikely that we would have any similar issues with future pregnancies.
Six months later we were pregnant again and I was nervous the entire time (it didn’t help matters that during my pregnancy my mother was put on hospice and passed away). Everything seemed to be going well but I ended up needing an emergency c-section. I had no problem with having a c-section, I just wanted my baby out and safe. The c-section went fine but we were told in the recovery room that they suspected that our son had Down Syndrome. It was confirmed by testing later. When they told us I just cried and looked at my husband and kept saying “I don’t understand”.
Thankfully so far our son has been blessed and hasn’t had any developmental delays (he’s 6mnths) and we are hoping that he will continue to do well (I call him our rock star).
The experts tell us that our two sons genetic issues are unrelated and that we are not carriers of any issues that would cause their problems, that we are just really unlucky. It’s still scary thinking of having more children though. I desparately want them but know that if we do I will be a wreck the entire time.
YoungHouseLove says
I’m so sorry for the loss of your first pregnancy but so glad to hear that your son is going so well and hasn’t had any developmental delays. What a rock star indeed!
xo,
s
Andrea says
I just wanted to chime in to thank you for sharing! I cried as I read too, because we also almost lost our (now 4 year-old) little girl and I almost ended up with a hysterectomy. It wasn’t quite as terrifying because we didn’t know it until the doctor performed the C-section, but reflecting back on the whole situation later, we are so very thankful for my doctor’s decision to perform the C-section right away (my uterus had ruptured, the placenta was bulging out of my uterus, and the cord was around her neck). The nurse said that if they had sent me home to rest (like they normally would in my situation), we definitely would have lost both our daughter and my uterus. I’m still super sad that I won’t be pregnant ever again (on the recommendation of my doctor), but so thankful for the beautiful, spunky little girl that I can’t imagine life without. Anyways, I love your blog and I’m so thankful with you that both you and Clara are alive and healthy!
Laura says
Wow! Thank you very much for sharing your story. You have given me hope in so many ways. My spouse and I have had fertility issues and will be trying IVF soon. Seeing Clara grow via your Flickr account has given me so much joy during a very difficult time.
Elizabeth says
As someone who has gone through similar event, this story had me in tears. Im glad to see that you had such a happy ending, we werent that lucky. Enjoy your miracle!
diana says
All the love in the world for you three!
I can imagine John not blogging about it. I can imagine you not being able to blog about it for a year. I cannot imagine what it takes to think about a brother or a sister for sweet, sweet Clara (and why you ALWAYS mention future baby/babies as siblings for her, and not new pregnancies for you).
Thank God it happened there and then! Imagine rural, or night time, or…thirld world…So many chances!
You are one brave girl and boy! Yes, I teared up thinking of John, in scrubs, abandoned in the hallway. And I never cry.
Melanie says
I have a similar story. A placenta abruption at 35 weeks, rushed to the hospital. Emergency C-section. Baby whisked away with no details. I didn’t get to see him for 8 hours! He spent 6 days in the NICU for severe blood loss. But he is perfect now. Beyond perfect. And he has a super healthy little brother which was a perfect pregnancy (and repeat C-section). My boys are 2.5 years apart and I did have two miscarriages in between. I wasn’t prepared for that, but I think my utereus just doesn’t want to cooperate. But man, I really think I do make perfect babies. : ) Hopefully you and I can have a few more!
KiM says
WOW- You and John are so strong. You ended up with a beautiful blessing in the end. I’m going to be honest. I’m completley freaked out now. My husband and I arent trying but you’re not preventing either and now, I know anything could happen. (Which was the case anyways, but to hear it-EEK!) That freaks me out. This story had me crying in my work chair. I’m happy you and clara are healthy. God Blessed you.
Shauna says
Sherry and John, you two are astoundingly brave. I couldn’t let this post go by without saying that, at least! Enjoy your beautiful Clara and all the good coming your way. Strong people!!