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.
Janice says
Huge hugs to you sweet girl. Off to wipe the tears from my face.
Marisa says
Thank God for your little miracle! That was an insane story and I am so glad to know and be able to see how beautifully it all worked out. Clara is a lucky girl to have you two as parents! I wish you all the most wonderful things life has to offer!
Allison says
Thanks so much for sharing your story. Terrifying but with a happy ending. I’m in tears here but I love how grateful you both are for the outcome–nothing you will take for granted and a good reminder to all of us of how precious life is!
A big hug sent your way….!
Tempest says
My little girl was born exactly one week after your Clara (coincidentally also in Richmond). Reading this just wrenched my heart and made me tear up. I thank my lucky stars every day that there were no complications during my L&D. Clara is such a fighter, and so are her parents after coming through that ordeal. As for the future pregnancy, there’s nothing you can do but hope and pray for the best. Worry doesn’t serve any constructive purpose, so it’s not worth your time!
Tricia says
Wow, what an emotional story!! i am so glad that everything worked out for your family!! what a true miracle it was!
Karen says
Thanks for sharing such a personal story with us. Sweet Clara was surely born under a lucky star. I’m sure each smile and giggle only add to your gratitude.
Heather says
They’re right, you are a lucky bunch. Have you thought about seeing a counselor or therapist for the emotional trauma? Few people think about it but a crash c-section can bring on really severe emotional damage, even PTSD. It also could help you relax in subsequent pregnancies.
Thank you for sharing, I know I was educated!
YoungHouseLove says
I have definitely thought about that option. For the past year I’ve had some deep conversations about it with my mom and my best friends so that support really does seem to help. Even clicking “publish” on this post and reading the comments is oddly helpful.
xo,
s
(another) heather says
Completely different scenario, but when my parents (unexpected to us kids) split after an eternity together it completely crashed my world down. I was a totally stable, reliable adult and it reduced me to rubble. It’s not something I talk a ton about (and I can’t believe I’m writing it). Literally laid on the floor sobbing in front of the wood stove. It was one of my worst fears come true. Frankly, it was a true test of a lot of things in my life and now I’m getting married for all the right reasons.
The point is, I ended up going to see someone for therapy because it was such an emotional jolt. It helped more than I could ever explain. There truly is nothing like an objective third party to help walk you through it.
rachel @ perfectly imperfect says
wow sherry- that’s scary & amazing & wonderful all at once! i’ve been in a similar situation twice, and reading your story reminds me that every child’s birth story is beautiful, no matter how crazy it is!
Kim says
As a mother, it was so heart wrenching to read what you all went through. I also had an emergency c-section, because the baby was in distress, but no other complications on my part. Our son has a mild form of autism, and I often wonder if the distress at birth might have contributed to that. It may not have, but the fact that not only did Clara survive, but that she is healthy in every way is truly a miracle. I have an unwanted but trained eye to babies social development, even for infants as early as three months old, because I can look back and see what were then unknown signs in our son. Your kiddo is more than ok, and that is such a gift. (BTW, our son is almost 14, and though he has his struggles socially, he is the most awesome smart, funny, sweet kid ever. He will invent or discover something super cool in the science world someday. ) Happy Clara day to all of you.
Diane says
Oh my God – John and Sherry, that was one wild rollercoaster ride you just told. I was literally clutching my hands and holding my breath as I read it. I understand that miracles do happen every day. I too had a scary birth of my son and he just turned 24 on Monday. So yeah – I believe in miracles and the power of prayer. God Bless you guys and sweet Clara – hold tightly to her, she is a true miracle. God must have amazing plans for your little bean!
Hugs to you all and thanks for sharing this with us :)
~Diane~
Nikki T says
Wow, you gave me goose bumps with your story. Thanks for sharing such a personal, scary and amazing day in your life with us.
I must say, even when it’s a hard-to-write post, you are an AMAZING writer!
Happy Almost-First Birthday to Clara :)
Nichole@40daysof says
Wow! Thanks for writing this. I want all of my “home birth” friends to read this.
Elisa says
Yes! I have several friends who have done water births. It’s wonderful in concept,- and I even considered it until last year when I read about Sherry’s unexpected complications! Now that we know the full story of Clara’s birth I will DEFINITELY have my baby in a (very reputable!) hospital. It’s just too much, too important of a risk for me to take.
Necole says
I had my first baby at 34 weeks. It was completely unexpected, and my body nor the baby showed any signs that this would occur. She also had a low apgar score when she was born, but it immediately went back to normal. She was in respiratory distress, and had to be rushed to the NICU. They laid her on my chest for a few seconds then took her away. I had to go home without her while she got better. This took two weeks. She is seven years old now, and she is perfect. My two other pregnancies were to term. I still do not like to talk about completely to anyone. It was truly the scariest day of my life.
Allison says
Your story had me in tears, too. I’m so glad everything worked out in the end. I had a baby on May 15 last year (a little boy, Louis, our second) and have so enjoyed seeing Clara’s weekly photos not just because she’s adorable but also because I see my son’s expressions and poses mirrored there, too. And I’ve enjoyed imagining how you get her to stay in the photo shoot, too, in the last couple months when surely she’s trying to thwart you by moving every where at once. Anyway, she is beautiful!!! I can only imagine what that day must have been like. (Our first son gave us a couple scares, too–he had infant botulism at 3 and 1/2 months–I replay those “what if they hadn’t figured it out or treated it fast enough” moments sometimes, which is not helpful for overall sanity probably, but I sort of understand what your day might have been like.) Thank you for sharing your story, scary though it is!
Jessica says
Wow… I’m speechless. What an amazing story. You are all so strong! Thank you for sharing this.
Diana says
Thanks for sharing your story. My first child (who’s 10 now!) was an emergency c-section. Reading your post brought back that feeling of shock, disbelief, and “this-isn’t-happening-to-ME” ness of that day. For whatever reason, I never dilated all the way, my contractions slowed down, and the baby’s heartbeat grew so faint they couldn’t find it anymore, so they whisked me away (it happened so fast the hubby almost didn’t make it in time since he was out getting something to eat in the cafeteria!). Scary birth stories are good reminders that God’s definitely watching out for you!
(and for what it’s worth, i ended up having 2 more c-sections. once you get over the 1st, the rest aren’t that bad!)
lydia says
i rarely comment on your blog though i read it daily…this post touched me. all the feelings you ended with i can 100% relate to. our first pregnancy was picture perfect. healthy and everything. i had a midwife and planned to go natural. which i did. i was in labor for 36 hours and finally delivered our son in the hospital. but from the start he wasn’t right. to make a long story shorter we lost him three days later. since it was our first we had all of those feelings you shared. coming home to an empty nursery and all. it was horrible. consequently all the following pregnancies have been terrifying. even though i have two healthy children now, every time i have been pregnant i can’t shake the panic and the nervousness that something is going to go wrong. it is only through tons of prayer, talking about it, and writing it out in my journals that i am able to get through. i am pregnant now again…it is a major surprise as i thought for sure we were finished, but God had other plans. He must have something he wants me to learn with this one too. I pray that you will be able to process the miracle that occurred on the day Clara was born. it is a lot to take in and the only way to deal with it is to go right through it. thank you for sharing something so vulnerable with your on-line community. wish i could give you a hug and let you know that there are others out there who are scared to be pregnant too. blessings
Carrie says
I am so sorry about your son Lydia.
YoungHouseLove says
So sorry for your loss Lydia. Thinking of you.
xo,
s
Jennifer B. says
Wow, so sorry for your loss. Prayers sent your way.
Jennifer B.
Kaitlyn says
I’m so sorry for the loss of your son, Lydia. Sending you positive thoughts for your pregnancy!
Anna says
Wow, I have chills. I’m so glad everything worked out the way it did.
Stephanie says
This post had me crying as soon as John went white as a sheet with your water breaking. And I can’t imagine the fear – I just can’t imagine. You and I are pretty similar I believe in how we’re the emotional ones and our husbands are the rock that doesn’t move, doesn’t sway, is level and logical (darn him) and to see him in distress had to magnify your distress instantly and exponentially. Thank you SO MUCH for sharing your story, as it does make me realize how truly lucky I have been with my three boys and that things like this DO still happen, even with all the medical advances and prenatal care in the world. Clara is a true blessing and she’s a darn lucky little girl to be born to such wonderful parents as yourselves.
Kristin F. says
Oh, wow! I am so sorry you had to go through that. I completely understand keeping it to yourself for so long, being afraid for the life of your child and yourself is not really something you might share right away. But your faithful readers are glad you felt safe enough to do so at this point.
I, too, had a scary first birthing experience (emergency C after other complications), though not close to yours. It was bad enough that my husb told my BFF “she will never do this again”…he was wrong. Time healed me and my emotions, and 3 years later we had a stress free, VBAC and a second healthy child. And I agree with another poster, 3 yrs is a great gap. My kids adore each other, even now as they are entering teen years.
Among says
Sherry, I love you and John and Clara even more. I cried the whole time I read this thinking of all that you went through. Thank you for sharing such an incredible miracle with us!
Sandra says
Thank you for sharing such a initimate moment in your lives. It’s an amazing story.
Hanna says
*HUGS* for you and John and baby Clara. You have one of the most beautiful and brightest little girls I have ever seen. :)
With my first we also had some scariness. 36 hours of labor followed by no baby heartbeat and an emergency C-Section. I also remember being strapped down on the table and waiting for him to cry… and waiting… Finally he started with a little “Nay, Nay” noise, which broke my heart since it is the Dutch word for “no” but also healed it, since he was alive (ALIVE!) and crying. My husband (also named John) just started to sob right there in the OR. I think he cried every time he held Ian for the first two days of his life. :)
I waited four years for my second, and they had me on an epidural right away with NICU standing by just in case. But my daughter was born natural (despite the earlier C-Section) and in only 12 hours. The first thing she did was SCREEECH at the top of her lungs and every one in the room laughed. Then one of the NICU members said “wow, she’s fierce!” Apparently she had bit his finger and refused to let go. The first, very prophetic, words said about my daughter. She had the same miconeum (sp?) issues her brother had, but didn’t need to be vacuumed since she screeched it all out on the first scream.
So I can personally attest that each pregnancy can be completely and totally different. What happened the first time around can be completely different from the second time around. And when you guys do decide to add another member to the family, know that you have thousands of readers sending positive thoughts and lots of love to you and your little ones. :)
Catharine @ Your Modern Couple says
Sherry, Thank you so much for sharing this story with us, it definitely brought tears to my eyes. She really is a precious miracle :)
Brittany says
Thank you for sharing!
Veronica says
Oh my gosh! I have followed you guys for years and commented a few times, but this post really struck a chord! I am a new mom of our first baby girl who was 6 months old last week (you can check her out on my mommy blog) Our stories are sort of similar and I am trying really hard to control my emotions as I read this. I am 5 foot nothing and teeny tiny, I also had an amazingly complication free pregnancy and truly cherish every moment of it. I had 26 hours of labor that ended in an emergency C-section. The difference is my baby was always perfectly healthy. I had complications after the c-section (high blood pressure, internal bleeding, & hemoragged a week later), I was so weak I thought I wasn’t going to be around to see my baby grow. Maybe someday I will be brave enough to write a post about it, I want to document it. But I don’t know that I can now. I still tear up. Proud of you for facing your demons, amazing the things we do for our babies. What a miracle they are! I feel the same as you about future pregnancies. Happy (almost) 1st bday Clara! You sure are one lucky girl!
V.
heyruthie says
i lost my first baby through miscarriage, and it’s true: you never go through pregnancy the same after a loss. but the joy after the “safe arrivals” is just as wonderful–if not more so, knowing the pain of loss.
i have a friend whose baby suffered cord prolapse. her little girl finally passed away last year after a four year struggle. you are very, very, very lucky.
your story brough me to tears, and warmed my heart with thankfulness for the four helathy children I have: two via adoption, and two via healthy childbirth (one accidentally in our bathtub at home! woops! but that’s a different birth nightmare turned-out-fine-in-the-end story altogether!)
Hugs, and celebrate. put it all behind you and squeeze that lil’ gal.
YoungHouseLove says
I’m so sorry for your loss with that first miscarriage Heyruthie. And for the loss of your friend’s baby after a struggle with cord prolapse as well. But your four amazing healthy children (even the one who was accidentally born in the tub) are amazing to hear about. So glad that your house is full!
xo,
s
Rachel H. says
Thanks for sharing your story, Sherry. I’m sorry that you had to go through that. Blessings to you and your family. You guys are awesome!
Melissa says
Thank you for writing this. I’m currently pregnant with my first…and reading birth stories like this is hard for me. But the way you wrote this is wonderful. When your scared of your own shadow so to speak during pregnancy, it’s really comforting to know that dispite what you and John went through, you’d do it over again. That is a testament to how wonderful having children really is and puts me at ease. Thank you!
Melissa @ HOUSEography says
Wow Sherry that is totally frightening. Thank goodness for happy endings. I also had an emergency c-section but nothing like yours so my heart really goes out to you and how scary that must have been. Hopefully you can enjoy your second pregnancy even if you will be scared the whole time. You’re a mom – you can’t help it!
Diane says
Thank you for sharing your story. My own Birth Story with our oldest son is eerily similar. REALLY eerily similar, except the day before he was born I developed preeclampsia and was the the process of being induced when all H-E- double hockey sticks broke loose. He too is happy, completely healthy and as of Monday…9 years old!
I also completely identify with your anxiety over future beans. And like you said you will be anxious! We have gone on to have 2 more healthy babies with MUCH less dramatic deliveries. In fact, when the birth of our second son, (and all were then c-sections!) I was lying on the table and asked…”Why is this taking so long! somethings wrong, and you are not telling me!!” The doctor then reassured me that NO this was how a C-section was supposed to go…not the “out in 45 sec” version I had before!
Thanks again, and as you continue the emotional healing, I hope that you will eventually find comfort in Clara’s Birth Story…after all it has the best qualities of an awesome story – heroes, heroines and a VERY happy ending!
shannon says
Glad you were able to share your story; more than anything, hopefully it helped you in some way. Very scary indeed. Glad it has a happy Clara ending!
Allison says
Oh my…I have tears in my eyes. I can see why you guys are so obsessed with Clara, and rightfully so. What a little fighter!
Cassie says
Sherry, that was beautifully written. It isn’t every day that a YHL post requires Kleenex. Clara is such a blessing! I really hope that someone from the medical team at the hospital stumbles upon this post. They are heroes.
Lisa Smart says
I have been reading your blog for years and rarely do I ever jump in to comment (I’m the quiet type, I suppose) but I just read your post… and I’m blubbering over here. I’m 24 and I’ve never given birth but ohhh my, I think my respect for mothers just sky rocketed even higher. You and your little one are so brave and I always thought she was so, so, so precious! Now she is even more of a rare gem to me. I hope getting it out was therapeutic for you both.
Brooke says
Whew! SO SCARY! I know exactly what you mean about Clara’s birthday being the scariest/best day of your lives. I was a completely low-risk, run of the mill pregnancy…for almost 31 weeks when out of the blue I went into “sudden and severe” preeclampsia. My blood-pressure shot through the roof and kept going. The head of cardiology examined my heart for nearly 45 minutes before the c-section because there was concern my heart would fail. But then at 30 weeks and 6 days our little girl, Ellis Jane was born at a whopping 2 lbs. 13 oz, scoring 8’s and 9’s on her Apgar! 6 weeks in the NICU and I was sure I’d never do that again. Adoption or bust. But it’s two years later and we decided to do it again. I was so ANXIOUS about everything, but once we found out I was pregnant again all of the fear miraculously went out the window—kind of like, well, it’s done now! Whatever will be will be. I ended up with influenza B and a 102 fever resulting in a miscarriage. So awful, but I am grateful to have enjoyed the pregnancy during the short time I got to grow that little babe. So my point (didn’t intend for this to turn into my birth story–sorry) is that you just might surprise yourself with a second pregnancy and feel none of or less of the fear you expect. Chances are that with or without fear, your pregnancy and birth will unfold the same either way. I wish you all the best and nothing but.
And p.s. Love your diy spirits and you both crack me up on a regular basis!
Jenny C says
Hi J&S, Thanks for sharing your story. Thankful that you guys made it through and that Clara is doing so well. It truly is a miracle :)
Cathy says
thanks for sharing your story. all babies are miraculous and when they come into the world so frighteningly, even more so. the two of you are very brave and “the bean” is lucky to have the two of you.
you’re both inspirational in more ways than just home decor!
thanks
Julia says
I am a sucker for a story about strong women and you and Clara are two pretty amazing examples. This post was beautifully written and so moving.
Melanie says
Wow. I didn’t have any idea what an ordeal you guys went through. I am a nurse, I don’t work in labor and delivery but I’m familiar with many of those terms. I had tears as I was reading your story. You truly are blessed both of you are happy and healthy today. Maybe that’s why your little bean always has the biggest and brightest smile I’ve ever seen on a baby!
Gracie says
Oh my word, how scary. I couldn’t even read through that without bawling and I obviously knew that everything had to be ok in the end. So glad you have beautiful Clara. She is one of the happiest babies I have ever seen. I am glad the world got to meet her!!
Anne says
amazing!
Beth says
Absolutely bawling. I am a mom to two boys. I think every mother remembers with much clarity how each of her children came into the world, and any mother in pain moves us. Thank you for sharing. So happy for your miracle girl.
heather says
Well I wear if I’ve ever heard it, God was there with you to bring you (and John, and Clara) through that. I can’t even…uhg. The part about John standing there made me choke up, I can see why it gets you. I can’t even think about that being my fiance or I’d straight up cry.
You are one hell of a woman (and family) Petersik.
Emily says
Thank you so much for sharing &I hope you continue to heal. I was nursing my 7month old while reading and clutched her SO tight! God bless you &your family
Brooke says
I type this as my 8 month old little girl pulls on my power cord, and tear stream down my face. How brave you are. What an overwhelming experience, and what an enormous blessing the two of you are to each other. Congratulations and Happy Birthday Clara!
Johnna says
Wow…Sherry…John…Clara…WOW!
I have to say – when I read the title of your post I thought, oh…she already told us about Clara’s birthday…but oh my gosh! I was literally in tears here at my desk working.
Thank you for being brave enough to share that story…and human enough to admit your fear. You are an incredible family ANYWAY, but this story makes my love and awe of you guys even more real!
Do you think you’ll be couragous enough to tell the interweb world of followers you have that your expecting when you are??
Congratulations on your blessings now, 11 months ago, and for all that will come in the future…and thank you for sharing your family’s story!
YoungHouseLove says
I’ve thought a lot about what I’ll say in a few years when I’m expecting again and I think I’ve come to terms with the idea of announcing as late as I can (maybe when I’m 20-22 weeks along since I waited until 14 weeks to announce last time). Somehow that might help me feel more secure. I’m not really sure yet.
xo,
s
Christy Z says
Thank you so much for sharing this personal story. I can’t believe how scary that must have been for you. I remember when I had my first, that I had it all planned out as to how I wanted things to go, but he was a week late and when I finally started having contractions, they gave me pitocin to speed up the labor process and that wasn’t a good thing for him. My Contractions went from lasting 45 seconds long to lasting 2.5 minutes long – which caused his heart rate to fluctuate. It is so scary when the doctors go from nonchalant to all business. I’m so glad that everything ended up with a happy ending for the three of you. It’s true that nothing else matters when you get to that point – all you want is a healthy child – the rest doesn’t matter. I’ll pray that all goes well with any future pregnancies for you. Thanks so much for all the great blog house tips & tricks and for occasionally including us that don’t actually know you, but feel like we do, with something so personal. You guys are an amazing pair – with a BEAUTIFUL miracle baby girl.
Carole says
so, so, scary, i hope that sharing the story will help you as much as i’m sure it will help others.
Britt says
goodness – no wonder it has taken you some time to write this down. unbelievable. thank you so much for sharing. i can’t imagine – i’m so grateful that everything turned out so wonderfully for your family.