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.
Sarah says
Sherry, all my love goes to you and your adorable little family. Thank you for sharing and best of luck with the future Petersik beans :)
Cameron says
Thank you so, so much for sharing. My coworkers are going to wonder why I can’t stop sniffling over here. :) What a terrifying experience, but what an amazing blessing. I know it will be so special to share with Clara when she’s older what a miracle she is and how special her life is. May God continue to protect your family and your sweet girl.
Jenni says
Your story brought me to tears, and I don’t cry very easily. Very touching!
Dawn S. says
Thank you for sharing this, Sherry. What a rush of emotions and events you all had. I cannot imagine – movies aren’t written that scary!
I am so thankful that you and Clara are well – truly miracles!
Michelle says
Amazing story!
I’ve always heard only pediatrician’s babies get 10s on the apgar!
Deanna says
OMGosh, no wonder you couldn’t tell your story sooner. If I were there right now I would have to give you a hug. If you don’t mind hugs from slobbery crying old women. Thank our good Lord everything worked out the way it has.
Andrea says
Wow, I am 26 weeks right now and feel exactly like you described prior to the complications. I feel great and just expect everything to fall into place. I cried reading your story, but I am glad you shared. We never should take anything for granted, but it’s hard to remember that at times. This post reminded me of that today!
Kim says
Sherry and John,
I’m so glad all turned out so well in both Clara’s sake and yours, Sherry. Birth is truly a miracle and we tend to take it for granted until we realize how so much can go wrong. I want you to know I’ve felt your pain – literally and emotionally. I had a similar experience with my second daughter. With my first daughter, I had placenta previa but my placenta moved up in time so they tried for a natural birth – but I wound up with an emergency c-section when I wasn’t progressing and the baby started going into distress – it turned out the cord was wrapped around her neck! Thank the Lord she came out ok and scored very high on both her apgars and I was ok too. But with my second pregnancy, they watched me very carefully and I again developed placenta previa. So I had many ultrasounds to keep an eye on things. Well, at 30 weeks I had an ultrasound and they said the placenta had gone very low. We just thought that meant I would definitely have a c-section and went into Lancaster that day – walking around a maze for several hours. When I saw my dr. the next week he sent me for an MRI (which I had to sign a waiver for because they don’t know the risk for the baby – scary but necessary). When the dr. had called even before I got home from the MRI I knew something was very wrong. It turns out I had placenta percreta – where the placenta grows thru the uterine wall and possibly into other organs. They couldn’t tell by my MRI if the placenta had grown into my bladder, but it was very close. At 31 weeks I had to go into the hospital on almost complete bedrest. They were trying to get me to 36 weeks. They gave me steroids to develop the baby’s lungs. They had a whole team of specials including all 3 of my ob/gyns involved in my plan of delivery. As with your situation, they were worried I could bleed to death during delivery if they couldn’t completely remove the placenta. Luckily, the baby was just fine thru all this, but they were concerned if I went into labor before they had their plan in place, that everyone wouldn’t be there in time for their part. I had stents inserted into the tubes leading into my urethra (sorry, can’t remember the term now). They were put in so they wouldn’t accidentally cut thru those tubes while removing the placenta. They debated every day about whether to wait until 36 weeks or deliver at 34 weeks and finally it was decided to do it at 34 weeks and hope the baby was mature enough at that point. That scared me more than anything – that the baby would be too small or have preemie issues. I had over 20 people in my OR room – my 3 ob/gyns, all the specialists for me, the NICU team and nurses, plus my husband. I could go into a ton more details, but too much for a post. The night before I had written notes to my husband, my 3 1/2 yr. old daughter and the baby yet to be born in case the worst did happen for me – very scary going into that OR room when even the drs. aren’t sure what they are going to find – was my placenta really embedded in the uterine wall or had it grown into my bladder (in that case, I would have lost my bladder too). Luckily, it wasn’t quite as bad as they originally thought. It had grown all the way thru the uterine wall, but not into my bladder (thank the Lord!). They did have to give me a hysterectomy to remove the placenta, but we knew that going in. I was sad to lose that possibility of more kids but so grateful for the two I was blessed with. I was kept awake for Lili’s birth and she scored high on both her apgars – I think 8 and 9 – which for 6 weeks early is really very good. She also weighed 5 lbs. so God was with this little girl from the beginning! They had to put me out for the rest of the surgery and I was in ICU overnight – worst part of the entire experience (I had a terrible nurse and was in almost constant pain). But the next night when they got me to my room, I struggled out of my bed and got myself into a wheelchair so I could see my little angel. She was the most beautiful thing (besides my other daughter of course!) I had ever seen! She was very lucky and only had to be in NICU for 10 days – mostly to regulate her temp and gain some weight. My recovery was longer but I was out in a week. And now we have a very active and thriving 3 1/2 yr. old who is keeping up with her constantly active 6 1/2 yr. old sister :) Sorry for the loooonnnggg post, but I wanted you to know that I knew exactly what you were feeling and do still feel today. Even today my experience seems surreal and I can’t believe how incredibly lucky we were and still are. I know I would be scared just like you during another pregnancy and I know you can’t help it – it’s such a shame that this fear will have to overcast the joy and wonder of being pregnant. But I just try to remember that we can’t control everything and we can’t live in fear and not do things because of that fear. Not to get all religious on you, but I also believe prayer is a very powerful tool and I know it helped me and my baby. I will be praying for you too when the happy time comes for baby number two! Thank you so much for sharing your story – I know it was hard for you to relive again as you typed it in this post. I relive mine every time I tell it too. But it will help you heal – physically and emotionally. The Bean is a very lucky girl indeed and you and John have been heavenly blessed! Good luck in all you do :)
Zee says
Wow, Sherry, thank you for sharing this. It was so touching to read and I teared up a few times too. I can’t imagine how scary it must have been, but am SO glad things turned out ok in the end! Clara is lovely and you both are so strong! I love your blog and reading about your lives. :)
Rose says
I don’t have kids and don’t want to, but I was totally crying reading your story. Thank you for sharing. I hope that you continue to heal from this as time goes by. Much love!
Tori says
This post made me cry! You two are so brave for having dealt with that, and I’m so glad that everything worked out for the best. Clara is such a sweet baby and I can’t imagine not being able to watch her grow up via your blog.
Jessica M. says
I just wanted to say thank you for your brave and honest post. It was beautiful. I can’t imagine how terrifying it must have felt for both of you to feel like you’re on the brink of getting everything, only to feel like you might lose it all. I’m pregnant with our first child right now and I just wanted to say that I especially appreciated reading about your courage and love during such an up-and-down time. On the brink of catastrophe, you were given a gift, and it seems that the scariness and amazing-ness of it is fully grasped.
Katrina says
Sherry, thank you for sharing your story. The risks with pregnancy and labor are crazy and it’s amazing that healthy babies are ever born! I had a miscarriage in January and still find myself emotional months later, even as we start trying for another (thankfully I have a healthy 2 year old to distract me). My sister-in-law miscarried in November and is now pregnant again having gone through a tough first trimester. She and I spend a lot of time talking about how to get through the day-to-day anxiety surrounding pregnancy. Your story and those posted by others in the comments definitely point out that no one is alone and that there are those around who can help us cope. Thank you for sharing.
Stephanie says
I had tears in my eyes by the end of this. Thank you for sharing. I have no doubt that you and John will be mentioned in so many prayers during your next pregnancy that God won’t have a choice but to have an angel at your side the whole time. (I’m thinking of the beginning of It’s a Wonderful Life right now.)
Crystal @Beautifulhaven says
Yikes, you officially scare the $@*% out of me. My husband and I are having our first baby this summer.
But I’m glad you shared your story. It will help me recognize any potential danger and keep faith that miracles do exist. I’m so happy you have a healthy beautiful baby girl.
Ann says
Look at all your messages of support and concern! This shows how you have touched the lives of so many…not just for this blog post, but by everything you have to say. You have became a part of a lot of our lives. Thank you for sharing your story with us and we are all so thankful you and bean are here with us!
Joy says
A brave sharing. Love to you guys.
– Joy
Kristin says
Wow. You’re amazing, Clara’s amazing, John’s amazing. You had me crying here at work. Thank you for sharing.
AKMama says
Oi! I have a river of tears flowin’ over here! You three are amazing. I had three c-sections and three children. The last one was hard because he ended up in NICU as well for a week. I hardly had time to think about my own pain. I am glad you were able to experience such a miracle. This last one survived through his feisty attitude (SISU as we say in Finnish) and through God’s blessing though he went through quite a struggle. He is almost four now and I can say I am grateful for the experience so I can remember what is truly important in life.
Jenny B says
Beautifully, beautifully written. Thank you for sharing it with your blog friends. Love and prayers!
Meggan says
I love birth stories. LOVE THEM. However… I cried reading this, because I recognized a lot of my own feelings in your story. I had an emergency c-section too (for completely different reasons – preeclampsia-related kidney problems and malpositioned baby) and oh my goodness, the EMOTIONS INVOLVED. It took WEEKS before I was able to say “c-section” without crying. I still feel weird about it, a year later.
And I hear you on the subsequent pregnancy thing – for preeclampsia, since nobody really knows what causes it or how to prevent it, my risk in developing it during a second pregnancy could be anywhere from 5%-80%. Talk about imprecise! You can’t make an informed decision based on that range!
Despite the scariness, I’m so glad you had a good outcome and felt comfortable enough to write about it here.
Erin says
Thank you for sharing such a personal and emotional story. I am so happy for the joy you have in your life. Nothing can top a beautiful, healthy baby.
Meredith says
WOW! What a bittersweet nightmare for you, but you handled that all with such grace! It says a lot about your character, you should be proud of the parents that you are for Clara! I truly believe that sometimes awful things happen to us to help give us perspective for the future, and that sounds like what you have – unconditional love and a new appreciation for how truly lucky you are to be parents!
I had a little boy come into the world (much less dramatically!) a few months after Clara, so I have enjoyed growing my wings in parenthood along with you. Thanks for sharing such a personal story – and allowing us to cry along with you!
xoxoxo
PS – anxiously awaiting that book!!!!!!!!
Jennifer says
Thanks for posting this. I’m 26 weeks pregnant and, while it’s scary to hear about things going wrong, I feel better knowing that things can turn out alright even in extreme situations like yours.
Lisa says
Thank you so much for sharing your story! Sadly I found out yesterday that I am no longer pregnant, but reading your story in some way helped me out today. Also I am not sure how anyone could not see pictures of Clara and not smile and feel a little bit better about their day.
Thank you again for sharing your story!
L
YoungHouseLove says
Oh Lisa I’m so sorry. Hugs coming from VA.
xo,
s
Jamie says
You totally had me crying. I had (marginal) placenta previa with my little boy and lived in the hospital for six weeks. They thought it had become a nonissue and I ended up bleeding again at 39 weeks and had an emergency c-section to my healthy baby. Not nearly as much of an emergency as yours though! Anyway I was terrified to ever get pregnant again Bc bedrest alone in a hospital room sucks and I was so drugged I barely remembered the c-section. Anyway, the point is that it took time and prayer and faith but I eventually felt emotionally ready to gamble the pregnancy dice again and had a relatively easy second pregnancy (less morning sickness!) and even managed to go into labor on my own four hours before my sheduled c-section and was able to v-bac! So just trust your instincts and wait until you are both ready. And it’s true I don’t know if pregnancy can ever be quite as carefree again but you will still find joy and happiness in it… Thanks for sharing with us. Forgive my rambling… :)
Emily says
You. Are. Amazing.
Leah E-H says
Wow. Sherry, I can see why you’ve needed time to heal and process. So glad you wrote out your birth story to give yourself more processing time. Healing from a birth that didn’t go as planned is so important, especially if you foresee more pregnancies! The birth with my first baby, also a daughter, didn’t go as planned either. I also skipped the scary parts in the book, thinking they didn’t apply to me. Ended up with an emergency c-section also, and we also happily both ended up okay. But the processing the loss of innocence re: birth/labor, the loss of the birth I thought I would have, etc. That can be so hard! I’m sure others have mentioned this, but it was a HUGE help to me in processing my feelings. There’s a group called ICAN, and they probably have a chapter near you. They typically have monthly meetings where you can meet others who have had a c-section and talk about your feelings in a supportive place. I highly recommend it. Here’s their website; http://ican-online.org/
So glad you guys are all okay and glad you are healing.
YoungHouseLove says
You’re the fifth person to recommend ICAN so I better check it out. Thanks for the info!
xo,
s
carissa says
Wow, I tear up just reading this – can’t imagine how scary it was for you!! And completely understandable that it’s taken almost a year to write it. Thanks so much for sharing! So glad you both made it through healthy and happy :)
Erin says
Thank you for sharing this! How scary and traumatic it must have been. It’s very brave of you to share it with all of us and I do help it helped you to share. What a special baby Clara is!
Lissy says
Thanks for sharing your story. As a doula and as a mom who dealt with ptsd after my last birth…I’m just so grateful for my little guy. Clara is a doll. What a very happy 1st birthday!!!
Lynley says
Oh Sherry! You both are so so strong! I was practically in tears reading this and thinking of how you were feeling and what you expect to happen and feel when you have your baby. All three of you are so blessed to be together!
jen says
So glad your scary experience had such a happy ending. I had my first daughter by emergency c-section at 31 weeks with HELLP syndrome and a whole lotta drama following that. Thankfully she’s a normal, happy almost 4 year old. My second pregnancy could not have gone better with a VBAC even but I was very worried throughout! Lots to celebrate on Clara’s special day!
Caitlin says
thank you for sharing. she’s a lovely little miracle. very powerful stuff, a mama’s love. :)
sandy says
God bless you and your beautiful family. My mother also suffered the placental issue in her first pregnancy (started to bleed out at home) and lived as did the baby and she had two more uneventful pregancies. You have to have the faith to know that God is too wise to make a mistake and too cruel to be unkind. Happy Birthday Clara.
YoungHouseLove says
It’s so great to hear that your mom went on to have two more uneventful pregnancies after a placental issue. You guys give me so much hope and confidence!
xo,
s
Felicity says
Thanks for sharing. I’ve had two miscarriages and two chemical pregnancies in the past year and nothing is fun, exciting or innocent after going through trauma like this. If it weren’t so impractical I’d be doing a nursery after the baby’s arrival and I wouldn’t tell a soul until it is born healthy. Of course at some point my mom will be sad that she’s been out of the loop for so long. Once you face what can really go wrong it makes the whole experience pretty darn scary. When you’re ready, I hope you can have another pregnancy with a perfect ending, minus the trauma in between.
Danielle @ The Sunshine Girl says
That had to be the most terrifying experience. I was in tears reading this. I can’t imagine having go through that with my little girl. Breaks my heart. Your are so blessed to have such a happy outcome from such a traumatic event.
Beth-BTW says
Now that I have taken a break after reading this and gotten the tears under control, I want to first say a BIG THANK YOU for sharing your story. So many women don’t share for whatever reason, and that makes those who have complications feel like they are the only ones who have ever had anything go wrong. Not true at all, and not healthy when something bad happens.
What an incredibly strong mama and baby you two are! May God continue to bless your family in such wonderful ways – maybe with less drama, but with just as terrific results.
As for how you will feel next time, I have some personal experience to share. You are going to be scared you-know-what-less, yes. It will hit you in ways and at times that you least expect. That said, there is a place from where you can enjoy your pregnancy and Bean2.0 just as much as you did prior to this life-changing event. I had to find that place after losing pregnancies while dealing with infertility a few years ago. Once I shifted my focus to how thankful I was to be pregnant for no matter how many days that I was…no matter the outcome, just happier to be pregnant than I would have been if I were not…it all changed. Each day we spend with our children (inside or out) is a blessing. You will be prepared. Your doctors will be prepared. You can enjoy every second (well, almost – ha!) if that is what you set out to do. <3
Beth-BTW says
By the way, I have gone on to have two more children (already had one) after these losses and the infertility! Keep the faith!!
YoungHouseLove says
So glad to hear it! It really helps so much to share this with you guys and hear from you about your experiences.
xo,
s
sandy says
Sorry, I meant “God is too wise to make a mistake and too GOOD to be unkind.” Urg, inspirational pep talk fail!
Julia says
I appreciate you sharing this. I also had a scare the pants off you emergency c-section. I was induced at 34 weeks because I had very severe preeclampsia. Then was rushed off to the OR when her heart stopped beating. Turns out that she had the shortest cord my OB has ever seen (13 inches) wrapped around her neck (completely unrelated to the preeclampsia). She is now a beautiful and healthy 6 month old. The thought of having another (25% chance of preeclampsia in subsequent pregnancies) terrifies me, but it gives me courage that you will have a second.
mandy madison says
Wow, never expected your birth story to go the direction it went…thanks for sharing your experience. I’m so happy for you guys that things turned out the way they did and I will pray the you future pregnancies go smoothly! Hopefully your experience is able to help a few mothers out there who may/may have dealt with similar issues. I can also see why this took you a year to get the courage to post it. So personal and emotional.
P.S. Your little Clara is an absolute doll!!!
Kaitlin says
Wow Sherry! I am in awe of your strength to share this momentus moment with us. You and John are bloggers that I look up to, but more than that you’re wonderful people who truly enrich the lives of readers with your quirkiness. Keep doing what you’re doing- you guys are amazing! And happy early birthday to Miss Miracle herself!
Gina says
You made me cry! Hugs to you all. What an amazingly terrifying story, and what a precious baby girl.
Jenny says
I’m so happy your story had such a beautiful ending. It reminds us all how precious life is.
Sandra says
Scary tears. Happy tears. Congratulations all over again.
Noelle says
Thank you for sharing this! Having a baby is so beautiful and sacred, but it’s also a painful issue for many families because of sad or near-sad endings. I’m so glad your story ended up with you bringing your lovely baby home!
katie f. says
wow. Over 1k comments, I don’t expect you to read or respond to mine, but I can totally relate. You have reminded me that I need to face my fears and deal with my daughter’s traumatic birth. We have video that neither my husband or I can bring ourselves to watch, and it’s been a year. We are/were very lucky, too — but it has taken a long time for me to be OK with talking about her birth, so I understand where you are coming from.
Amanda says
Sherry – thank you so much for sharing your story. I’m literally scared to physically have a child. For some reason your story has made me feel so much better about it. I think it was the courage to let us all know and what a miracle you 3 have received. Thank you!
Jennifer D says
Thanks for sharing. Amazing testimony. Blessings to you and your family.
Michelle Wengert says
Wow, traumatic and amazing story. Thank you for sharing! I never really wondered why you were so obsessed with the beanette, cause she’s adorable, but now I 110% know why.