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.
Faith says
Wow, Sherry, I am so sorry you had to go through that. Sooooo so scary!
We had two miscarriages, and then thought we were losing our son early in his pregnancy. However, he ended up doing just fine. I was so worried every day–just like you said you might be in and pregnancy. It was one of the hardest things we’ve ever done, but we learned that we had to thank God for every day that we had with him, even though I selfishly wanted him with me every day for the rest of his life!
I also ended up with a scary emergency c-section which I think I’m still processing in some ways. However, like you said, slice and dice and it’s all worth it for a healthy little once. We’re expecting again now and hoping for a VBAC, and I’m having to relearn some of those same lessons of trusting that God knows my heart and will do what’s right for this child, too.
I hope next time will be a much easier experience for you!
Shelley @ Green Eggs and Hamlet says
Wow, thanks for sharing. I know it must be so difficult to talk about but I think it’s awesome that you did. You Petersiks are a great family team and I hope your next pregnancy is smooooooth sailing but I totally understand your fear and I think you have a great attitude about accepting it and dealing with it as you need to.
You mentioned that Clara is a fighter (and she is!) but remember that you and John are fighters too. :)
greenbean says
REJOICE!!!!!
Brittney says
OMG! That is a crazy story! I’m so happy that it has such a happy ending, but wow, how scary for you guys! You are so strong to have gone through that!
andrea says
I hate to say time heals all wounds, but it is true. I had a stillborn five years ago. It took me a long time to even say that without choking up, but eventually it happens.
Other women will say ohmigod and I just say hey it happened to me and I hope it never happens to anyone else or myself again.
Every pregnancy is different. My sister has three beautiful kids, and two pregnancies were breezes, but the middle one was tough.
You can always follow the jewish tradition of not buying anything for the baby or nursery until the baby comes home!
Sherry thank you for sharing your story with us. You are very brave to be so open with us and it makes you all the more “real” to us. I wish I could give you a big ol’ hug!
YoungHouseLove says
I am so so sorry for your loss Andrea. I really can’t imagine. You’re definitely in my thoughts.
xo,
s
Laura says
I am just absolutely dizzy reading this, and nearly in tears. Thank you so much for sharing your story. It is very, very similar to my own. My daughter also had umbilical prolapse, which ended in a very fast and terrifying emergency c-section at 23 weeks. I too waited and waited for a cry, heard an Apgar score of 4, and feared that I might never even see her alive.
But, like Clara, my Sophie is incredibly strong and turned out just as healthy as can be. Thank you so much for sharing.
Dee says
Oh, Sherry (and John of course), I had a very scary delivery, too. My baby girl is almost 9 months old and is doing wonderfully, but we had a very, very scary start. To make a very long story short, our daughter’s heart rate kept dropping when I was in labor, and I ended up needing a c-section.
When the ob delivered her, I heard nothing – no cries, no squeals, no grunts – nothing. It was absolutely terrifying. No one even told me if she was a boy or a girl and no one would tell me what was happening at first.
Everyone in the room was completely shocked because our daughter’s head was so severely swollen (literally double the size of her teeny head – swollen straight up from the top) because she had slid down into my pelvis and her head was swelling to create a cushion for herself.
When my daughter was whisked away from me, and I was moved to a recovery room, the ob came to my room, held my hands, prayed and cried with me, and admitted that she had never seen anything quite like this.
After 9 days in the NICU – which felt like an eternity – our beautiful girl came home and suffered no brain damage, thank God. She has some scars on her head that will require plastic surgery to correct, but cosmetic issues are absolutely manageable in our book!
Your story made me cry and relive my daughter’s birth story. Both of our families are so, so lucky. Thank you for so eloquently sharing your story with us.
Natalie says
Thank you so much for sharing. I appreciate how difficult that must have been for you write down. I hope you found healing in it.
My son was also born via a very complicated delivery after an amazingly easy and wonderful pregnancy. He was born not breathing and had to be resuccitated. I still don’t know what his Apgars where, as my doctor would always avoid the subject, I believe so I couldn’t obsess on it. He is now an almost 4 year old wonderful, perfectly healthy boy. I then had a complicated miscarriage afterwards and was told no more children. Then I got pregnant with my daughter. I was terrified, and her pregnancy was okay, not awful or wonderful. Her birth however was AMAZING. I was so scared of a repeat of my first, but her birth was absolutely text book perfect – fast, relatively easy, drug free. We almost didn’t try for her, but are so glad we did. She is one of the two best things of our lives.
I wish the same experience for you when you choose to have another.
Brenda says
Wow, Sherry, my little guy is only 5 months old, so reading your story definitely brought tears to my eyes thinking about what I would have done if I were in the same situation. My son wasn’t breathing when he was born and had his cord wrapped around his neck, but the OB was so calm and quickly did what he needed to do. He spent his first hour in the NICU but was fine.
It’s stories like yours that remind me that a woman should always give birth at a hospital. If you had been anywhere but a hospital, I don’t want to think about what could have happened.
Misty says
Oh my goodness! I can see now why it took so long for you to write out your birth story. Huge huge hugs to you, John and Miracle baby Clara! I sit here in the midst of the “ugly cry” in complete sadness that you had to go through such a tragic birthing experience but happy tears that in the end everyone is okay and healthy.
God certainly was watching over y’all that day!
Diane says
Folks who haven’t experienced a traumatic pregnancy and/or birth may not understand how far into the future the emotional impact can reach. I’m so glad you were both just fine in the end!
Jo @ Jo In the Kitchen says
I am so glad I wasn’t reading this at work! Definitely cried the whole time I was reading. (It’s ok though! Knowing you both made it through let me keep reading)
Thank you so much for sharing. No one wants to think about how scary labor can actually be, but knowing that there are amazing teams of doctors and nurses out there is incredibly comforting.
amyks says
Thanks for sharing your story, I was considered “high risk” during all my pregnancies, but happily I now have 3 beautiful children (all full term) and all amazing. A positive thing about being classified “high risk” is you get more doctor’s appointments, so they keep a very close eye on you and I had weekly ultrasounds, so I was able to see all three of my babies and get pics of them as they developed. It was fascinating!
Happy Birthday to Clara! My first baby girl was born 11 years ago on Saturday, May 13th.
Paige says
Sherry, thank you so much for sharing your deepest fears. It had me in tears several times–which was hard to hide here in my cubicle! I’m so glad everything worked out for the three of you, and I hope any future pregnancies you have are smooth sailing all the way through.
Jess says
I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I really hope that writing about it has helped you. I’m pregnant myself for the first time and it can really be terrifying just not knowing what to expect and being at the mercy of doctors to explain things to you.
Cindy says
Thank you for sharing your birth story. Talking about it is a healing process even 9 years later. :) I too had partial placenta abruption with my last birth. At 34 weeks I went into labor and started to bleed. I was rushed to the hospital and they were able to stop labor and bleeding. After finding a clot on the placenta, they decided to induce me at 35 weeks. I was able to deliver her naturally but her heart rate was weak during the labor. I finally was yelling to just snip and get her out! She also was a 4 on the Apgar test but rebounded to a 9 within minutes. She is my miracle baby girl!
elle sees says
So I came here to eat some lunch & visit my vbffs (v=virtual), and was not ready for what came next. I had no idea the hardships you guys faced.
I also found out that a)I forgot to breathe while reading b)I totally cried in my Lo Mein. Even though I knew the outcome, I was so stressed!
I’m so happy you are all fine. I’m touched that you were so honest, especially with your fears. Thanks for sharing this, you strong, amazing mom! I may not have (or can have) kids, bu.t i felt so special that you included us on this experience. Much love to you.
Kristal says
Wow Sherry. You are amazing for writing this out and I hope it aids in the healing process. Your story had me in tears. Birth is an extremely emotional and life changing experience and to have the scary elements in it that you had…I can’t imagine trying to process through all of that. I’m sure it’s been suggested to you already, but is there an ICAN group near you? I think it would really help you continue to heal!
Thank God for a healthy mom and baby!!
Holly says
wow! I’m in tears over here, thanks for sharing this story Sherry! I hope its as therapeutic for you as you hoped.
You should send the link to the hospital, I am sure they would love to hear your story :)
Marie says
Thank you for sharing your story. It brought back memories of my emergency c-section. It was happy and traumatic at the same time. I think I have blocked out some of the details and I never did ask a lot of questions about what happened, almost happened, or could have happened. I just don’t want to know.
Whenever my husband looks at video from the OR, all I can process is the beeping of the baby monitors. That sound has been seared into my brain and not in a good way.
Ali says
Thank you so much for sharing this amazing story. I had tears in my eyes through most of it. Clara is a miracle!
Mrs G says
Gah — I’m six months pregnant with my first and am totally choked up at work after reading this! Thank you for being so honest and sharing your story. I’m so glad everything worked out in the end!
Emily says
Well, you made me cry at work. She’s amazing!
Sheryl J says
I had to fight my tears (cause I’m at work or else I would have totally been bawling). I can’t even imagine how scary the whole experience was. I’m so happy that everything worked out.
anne marie says
Wise words, Sherry! “know yourself” :)
Sounds like the growth you’ve experienced over the last year has taught you both so much about joy and loss and love. HOORAY for LIFE and *all* of its experiences, even the scary ones! and hooray for maintaining a sense of humor too! I mean, who ends a post about a c-section with the phrase “Slice and dice, baby!?” LOL, Sherry does.
LARY says
Thank you for sharing Sherry, no babies for me yet but your story sure gave me goosebumps. You should be nothing but proud for the precious little girl/miracle you guys have. She is a definitely a fighter just like her mommy :)
Jessica Z. says
Oh, Sherry. You had me sobbing after reading this. My birth experience with my little girl who was born in August was also quite harrowing, and that was after three previous miscarriages just to get to carrying a baby to full term. So I know how frightening of an experience it can be.
Like you, I am so very very grateful to the team of doctors who managed my and my daughter’s care at UVa. We wrote a letter to chief hospital administrator and dean of the medical school to acknowledge everyone’s efforts (and sent flowers and cookies to the OB and NICU wards). And, like you, we are waiting before even discussing a second child — we may decide we don’t want to risk the emotional pain of more miscarriages or a recurrence of my complications. And that is OK, our little girl is enough for us.
Thank you for bravely sharing your story. It means a lot to hear from others who also did not have the birth experience they imagined. Lots of hugs to you, John and Clara. You do have one tough cookie!
Clara says
Thanks for sharing – what a story! I am so happy all turned out ok in the end and that you have a beautiful little Clara to celebrate. I am 35 weeks pregnant – glad to have read this – you gotta be prepared!!
Alicia says
Thank you for sharing this with us, Sherry. My oldest son is now 2 1/2 and I had to have a c-section with him because I had undetected gestational diabetes. They determined that he was too big after 3 days of labor! (It stills kills me that they didn’t figure this out earlier…) It was very hard for me to have a c-section because like you, I didn’t really think I would have a hard time. I cried when you and Katie Bower both had c-sections. It was hard because I am the only person I know that has had a c-section and I felt like no one understood the pain I was going through. I wondered if y’all were feeling the same way that I was. I’m okay with it all now, although at times it makes me mad to think about it. But I just recently had my second c-section and while it’s not a piece of cake, the trauma of having one isn’t so bad because you get to focus on the new baby and everything is planned out for you. I keep telling myself that it doesn’t matter how they get here, it’s just that they are here!! xoxo to you all!!
Jennifer says
Sherry & John,
I can understand the rawness and emotion that comes, even a year later, from a horrible birth experience. My birth experience did not go as planned, nor was it as scary as yours, but it still hurt to retell it to everyone who asked.
However, I have been meaning to write this little word of thanks to you and your hubster for this site and your posts for a few months now.
Back in January, I beleive, you had a post in which you shared some stories from guests readers/bloggers stressing the importance of having homeowner’s insurance and how they lost their houses to fire.
President’s Day weekend my husband and I decided to spend the weekend down at my mom’s in Savannah, GA and jaunt over to Hilton Head for some outlet shopping. My husband is a teacher and had a 4 day weekend/winter break that weekend, and at first we contemplated doing a couples getaway (sans our three year old) by either going down to Disney World or taking a three day short cruise (it would have been our first). We priced things out and thought things over. I really wanted to do Disney (as the cruise came out to be more than what we wanted), but something in my gut didn;t feel right (this was a month prior to our trip). Finally two weeks before President’s Day my hsuband asked ‘So what do you want to do?” and I told him I was feeling off about travelling far away (well from where we are Disney isn;t too far) and that I’d rather just visit my mom and shop. So that’s what we did. We spent Friday and Saturday night with my mom and then arrived home Sunday afternoon. Leaving us (well my husband) a day off from work just to sit around the house.
Monday mornign we woke up (well my hsuband and daughter got up beofre I did) and about 20 minutes later I sleepy-stumbled into the living room where I noticed a smell. As I sat on the couch waking up, the smell began to bother me, so I started searching for the source of it. I cekced the lamp and cords behind the couch, I checked the wall outlet behind the couch, checked every outlet in our living/dining room/foyer/hallway and STILL could not find the source. Then I walked into the kitchen and I saw IT.
IT being smoke coming form the control panel of our dishwasher. From my first look I questioned why smoke was coming out of the sink drain, but then upon looking again, I saw it was coming from the control panel. I scremed to my husband who was in the laudry room (where the control panel was) to turn off the breaker to the dishwasher. he walked out, confused, when he saw the smoke as well. It was a good thing we decided to turn the breaker off, because it turns out the dishwasher (we got replaced) was hard-wired in. Meaning it was connected straight to the wire coming out of the wall (legal) rather than having an outlet behind the dishwasher.
I am so thankful that my body felt off about taking a “couples only” trip for that weekend. Had we done that, my husband, daughter, and I would not have returned home from that weekend until Monday evening. But here’s where you guys come in.
It was that aforementioned post you guys did in January, about insurance and guest readers who lost their homes that clued me in to the fact that a DISHWASHER can catch on fire. I never would have thought about it until I read that post back in January (one of the guests lost her house due to a fire that started in the dishwasher). This house is me and my husband’s first home. We made financial mistakes when we were younger and thanks to some money my grandfather left me, we were able to take care of our debts and buy a house (FINALLY). But I am so thankful you guys had that post, and greatful I read it. You guys (and my gut) saved my house.
P.S. A few weeks ago we had our annual family trip to Disney and you better believe that I shut off the breaker to the stove, dishwasher, dryer, water supply to the washer, and toilets. I also alerted a neighbor to keep an eye on the house, should it spontaneously combust. We did have a minor storm roll through while we were away that knocked down our backyard wooden fence and take a few singles off the roof, but we were very lucky. Our homeowner’s insurance is coming in handy with a new fence. Yes, we live in one of those subdivisions where EVERYBODY has a wooden fence around their backyard, so we have to get it replaced and match everybody else.
YoungHouseLove says
That is amazing! So glad you read that post about the dishwasher fire and knew to look there (and didn’t come home to a house fire)! Wow. So thankful.
xo,
s
carolyn says
I could barely get through reading your story, let alone living it…Clara sure is a little miracle (and a cute one to boot!)
Irene says
I had a little bit of a situation when Olivia was born. When my water broke, it was reddish brown (not bright red). Luckily they figured whatever it was from had occured and healed itself already so they just gave me Pitocin and let her be born the “natural” way.
Clara is definitely a miracle. And a cute ass one too!
Kristi says
This is such an amazing story! I’m so very happy you shared this – I shared it with a friend that is warned of going through this very thing and she feels so much better – hearing what an amazing outcome you had gives her hope. Hearing what you went through gives her things to prepare for. You truly changed her today – in a marvelous way!
Jessica says
Sherry,
I’m a devoted reader and never really comment, but I had to say something about this beautiful, emotional story…
Thank you so much for writing this. I had my daughter Lyla just over a week ago after a very easy, breezy pregnancy. I have been avoiding writing down her story because, just as you described it, it was both the best day of our lives and the worst day, wrapped into one. While we did not have the complications that you went through, we did had complications (it’s amazing how quickly one can go from completely non-chalant, laid-back pregnant lady to do-whatever-it-takes-to-get-her-out-safely, isn’t it?) Everything turned out just fine and I still question every day what we did to get so lucky.
Your words have encouraged me to not let too much time pass before I get her story down on paper. I agree that it will help with the healing.
Here’s to easy subsequent pregnancies and births for both of us.
Thank you again.
Angela says
Sherry,
You’re amazing! Thank you SO MUCH for sharing! I’m 32 and my husband and I are talking about having a baby/babies. I’ve been reading everything I can on it and based on my past (both a rape and sexual abuse) I was afraid I couldn’t have a baby. Not that I wouldn’t be healthy enough for one, but that emotionally I won’t be able to do it. That I won’t be able to have doctors down there looking and touching around. I put off having kids this long based on that – thinking it must not have been meant for me… but now I would like children. I just don’t want somethings that happened in my past to pick my future for me.
That being said, I want to be the happy-go-lucky pregnant woman with the great birth story… but I don’t think either will happen. I think the important thing is to be brave enough to try and to go easy on yourself. That’s my plan anyways.
Quick question – How did you pick your OB? Did you ask specific questions before picking one? Also, did John read any good books he’d recommend on ‘being a dad’ and ‘helping the wife through pregnancy’?
Angela
YoungHouseLove says
I think John read a few dad books but was disappointed with them. He just didn’t like how they seemed to talk down to dads and remind them things like “you should rub your wife’s feet” when he wanted more less obvious info, you know? As for my OB, she was recommended by two friends so I switched over to her practice about a year before getting pregnant. My OB wasn’t on duty the night Clara was born but one of the other doctors in the practice was and I truly believe that she was one of the ones responsible for saving Clara’s life. I’m forever grateful for her. I even have a photo of us together (and I look insane- so bloated and blotchy) but I keep it because I’m so thankful for that woman and how fast she acted to save Clara. She stopped working as an OB about a month later (she had kids and her hubby was also a doc so she wanted to stay home with her kiddos) and I was so sad I wouldn’t get to have her again for my future pregnancies, but my original OB is amazing too.
xo,
s
hillary says
The “dad” books my husband liked the best (and that I recommend from a doula-perspective) were The Birth Partner and Hit the Ground Crawling: Lessons From 150,000 New Fathers. They both treat fathers/partners like human beings instead of idiots!
I know you didn’t ask this specifically, but there’s also a wonderful book called When Survivors Give Birth that your future care provider absolutely should have read. A doula who is well-versed in the subject can be a great advocate for you, too.
Kristi says
Angela, The Birth Partner was one our favorite books. It’s geared toward labor partners but gives a ton of great information about what’s normal, possible complications, how to best advocate for your partner in a hospital setting, etc.
Also, I work for an organization that helps crime victims, and I would strongly urge you to talk to a local victim advocate about local medical practitioners. I’d like to say that all doctors have training in how to sensitively handle patients with histories of victimization, but unfortunately, that’s not the case. A victim advocate should know of some local nurses (sexual assault nurse examiners, for instance) who could give you further referrals to appropriate OBs. A midwife (many practice in hospitals) may also be a good option for you. Best.
Jill says
Oh my goodness, add me to the crying list. My 13 year old son shares a birthday with Clara, and my c-section with him was a scary experience too. What is it about May 14th, anyway?
I do think sharing a traumatic story like yours can be very healing — I have found that to be true for myself, and you may find like I did that every time you share the story, you’ll discover new ways to process it and new moments of healing.
I just wanted to pass on two thoughts — one, there are therapists who specialize in birth trauma, so if you think that might ever be helpful, know that they are out there — and two, if you didn’t have one the first time, you might think about having a doula for your next pregnancy. There are doulas who are very good at providing emotional support during pregnancy for women with past difficult births, and a doula can be an amazing help to both the mom and dad throughout the experience, even in the case of a c-section.
Thanks for sharing your story — Clara is an amazing and lucky little girl!
kelsey says
oh i am in tears. what an amazing story. what an amazing little girl. thank you for sharing. the birth of my first was scary, not nearly as bad as what happened to you and i too remember lying in bed looking at the baby monitor once we got home, crying thinking to myself how did I get so lucky and thank goodness that God is a graceful God, otherwise there is no way I would have been so blessed.
katie says
Thanks for being so brave and sharing this story. I had to close my office door so no one would see my tears!
Jenny says
If I didn’t know this story had a happy ending, I don’t think I could have finished it.
:) xoxo
Suzie says
I’m not sure where you stand in your belief about God, but it’s hard to go through (or read) a story like that and not believe that God exists, is real, and loves his children immensely. I hope you experienced Him through this.
Christi says
Amen!
YoungHouseLove says
We’re so very thankful.
xo,
s
Meredith K A says
This birth story and the many others I’ve read have touched me in a real way, but I just need to share my feeling about statements like this comment: If we view an amazing story like the Petersik’s as proof that God exists and loves us, then what does that imply for the many, many families whose stories end tragically? That God doesn’t love them as much? I am very active in my church and can’t imagine my life without my faith community, but I just don’t feel comfortable making statements like this. God’s will and purposes are unknowable to us, and I believe we need to be so deeply thankful for stories like this and for the blessings in our lives without bending the meaning to our own purposes.
Kristi says
@Meredith: Amen!
Cara says
Your story gave me chills. I am so glad it turned out well in the end. My friend had a placental abruption and her story did not end well like yours. I am 8 weeks pregnant and am trying to think positive thoughts but it is scary. I’m glad you and Clara both made it through safely. I feel the same as you. I don’t really care how the baby gets out as long as it is safely. Good luck with your sewing machine. It will get easier.
Lindsey G says
Sherry- wow! I am so glad you shared sweet Clara’s birth story with us. I cannot imagine how scary this was, and I am very hopeful this will only make your healing faster. Thank you!
Erin says
Oh wow.. good cry, good cry.. That was an awesome story! So empathetic for what you were feeling. A few of those things passed through my head when having my first son, but you LIVED it. Fabulous ending, beautiful baby girl, and wonderful set of parents to top it off :)
Katie says
WOW! That was a tear jerker at work!!! Im so glad everything turned out so wonderful for how scary the beginning of the story started! You, John and Clara are so blessed!!!
hillary says
I am a huge proponent of home birth and believe home birth is usually as safe as hospital birth if attended by a qualified midwife. However, I am SO SO thankful you were in the hospital and got the swift and perfect intervention that you did. Modern medicine is amazing when it is called for. I hope that the time it takes for your body to strengthen and heal means will also be enough time for your heart and spirit to heal. Even with an increase in probability that an abruption would happen, the odds are still SO small that your next pregnancy is very likely to be happy, healthy, and free of complications.
hillary says
I’m not sure my last statement parses. What I meant is that the odds of a future abruption are so small that it’s still overwhelmingly likely that you’ll have a healthy, smooth-sailing pregnancy and birth.
Gina says
Sherry – your story was amazing…and yes, I also had tears. I went into labor at 29 weeks with my twin boys and spent two months in the NICU. I completely understand the sense of not having the “normal” delivery that everyone talks about. Hopefully your second will be much more “normal”!
Karen T. says
Holy hell. That’s a birth story. Thanks for sharing. I am so happy that your outcome was what it was–Clara is amazing and lucky to have you as her parents.
Lisa in Seattle says
Anything I might say has already been said above and better. But I will add that the final pic, with John holding Clara, has suddenly become my favorite of anything you’ve posted here. Happy birthday, Clara, and an early Happy Mother’s Day to Sherry.
Kaitlin says
Wow! what an amazing story! So glad you and the little one have done so well! also, the pic of you and her is really beautiful!
Kerstin says
I have to admit I had tears in my eyes reading this. I can’t even begin to imagine how you must have felt. My first son was born via C-section after the inducement did not work. I remember being very scared while wheeled into the OR. And that was without any complications! Thank you so much for sharing this story, I am glad it had a happy end and you have such a cute, healthy girl!