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.
Jen says
Sherry – Thank you so much for sharing this. I check in on YHL every day, but this is my first time commenting.
What an amazing story – like many who’ve already commented, it brought me to tears. I have a six-month-old son who arrived a month early. He’s a happy, adorable baby, and we feel so lucky that he’s in our lives, but I can relate to your future pregnancy fears… I love what you said about accepting these concerns. The next pregnancy may not be as happy-go-lucky as when you were pregnant with Clara, but it will still be a beautiful, amazing experience in its own right. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself as I think about having another little one someday!
sarah (sarah learns) says
i can’t even compose a response to this. i’ve tried about 3 times and nothing seems right. thanks for sharing your story & i am so thankful that everything ended up turning out so well in the end.
[email protected] says
Your story send me to tears. I rarely cried when I read blogs but your story is really touching. The whole situation in the hospital must have been extremely scary and terrifying for you and John but I am glad it ended with a happy ending. Thank you for sharing your story with us and I hope with the second pregnancy, you will find joy.
Jessie
melissa says
Wow…amazing story! On the postive side three years is a GREAT spacing between kids. My first two are exactly 3 years apart….It was CAKE compared to my second and third being 15 months apart!
You guys are wonderful parents!
Christine says
Thank you for sharing your story – how very brave of you & hopefully it helped some…just to ‘get it all out’? I can’t even imagine how you & your husband felt that day, just reading the story had me choking up. You guys are very blessed and your daughter is beautiful!
paula says
thanks for sharing this, I hope it was a little healing for you. we had a similarly scary start to our son’s life after a glorious pregnancy…to give you an idea, his apgars were 1,1,2 and 4. we didn’t think he’d survive (later found he had lack of oxygen due to stroke) but he did and is a true little miracle. you can read his birth story here http://jackluigi.blogspot.com/2010/08/birth.html but I’ll warn you it’s a little long :)
I’m terrified for the next pregnancy but have no reason to think anything like this will happen again. I mourn that care-free time enjoying my pregnancy fully but life goes on (thank god).
good luck and god bless your family.
YoungHouseLove says
Thanks so much for sharing his story! What a terrifying journey but so glad it had a happy ending! What a little miracle boy.
xo,
s
Noel says
Wow…such a tear-jerking and powerful story. It really puts things into perspective. I admire you so much, I always have, but you really are such a strong woman. I can’t even imagine what you went through and I am so thankful that it resulted in a happy ending. It must have been amazing when you finally got to hold your precious baby. Clara is seriously the cutest and happiest baby I’ve ever seen and you are all such a wonderful family.
Jodi says
Sherry….you are so brave to share your story with all of us. I had tears flowing down my face as read about your birth experience. I have 4 children (all teenagers now)and was very fortunate not to have any complications. I hope writing about it does bring some healing to you, especially after hearing stories of so many others that went through a similiar birth trauma. What a wonderful celebration you will be having on Clara’s 1st birthday…for so many reasons! God bless your family!
Karina says
Thanks for sharing such an amazing story. I started to tear up at my desk reading all the details. My Mother had an experience similar to yours with my birth. I was her first pregnancy. She had a normal pregnancy, But when she was in labor Everything went wrong. They told her her baby was probably not gonna make it. She actually did’nt get to see me for five days because they transefered me to another hospital, and She had complications herself. She loves telling everybody how I’m her miracle baby. I actually have to ask her to please stop telling that story anymore. Thanks for making me appreciate my Mother more…
Clara is beautiful… and a fighter..She will be just fine!
Stephanie says
It is amazing how close you can feel to someone through reading their blog. While reading your story, it was like hearing about a close friend and their child. You are so strong for sharing such a personal and scary event with such a large amount of people. Clara is a beautiful girl and so lucky to have such a wonderful family. Tears have been shed by many of us as we read your story – just a testament to the amount of support your readers have for you.
Julie says
Wow what a story! It brought tears to my eyes as I remembered they day my sweet baby girl (18months) was born. I had an emergency c-section at 33 weeks due to a fetal heart rate of 60; no husband by my side b/c he was unable to answer my call; my precious daughter was later transferred to a different hospital. It was definitely not the sweet birth experience I was anticipating. But she is healthy now! For me, processing the experience took a long time as I “grieved” the loss of a “normal” birth experience(especially when friends would talk about their wonderful experiences!). Getting past the year marked definitely helped! Thanks for sharing and I hope your next pregnancy and birth is a time of rejoicing!
cara says
Sherry, you are so strong! thank you so much for sharing Clara’s birth story with us. i teared up a lot, i had no idea you & John went through all this. Clara is so lucky to have parents like you. Please don’t be scared for your next pregnancy. I know you will be, but you can’t dwell on the bad things that could happen.
Michele says
Thanks for sharing. I got misty while reading. My delivery was only mildly difficult and I still have a hard time talking about it (and my son is 17 months old now). I’m so glad that everything turned out so well for all of you!
Rachel says
wow…. that made me cry.my husband and i have been trying to have a baby for well over 6 years.all i could think after i read your story was how amazingly blessed Clara is.im so glad that you guys have a beautiful,charming,destined for awesomeness baby girl.i hope that you are able to have more and that your future pregnancies are complication free.<3
Shari @ Chicago Cuisine Critique says
Wow, what an incredible story! All 3 of you are so blessed!
jenp says
This post hit me hard today, as I just found out yesterday that I’m pregnant with our 3rd little miracle! I’m sure you will find the strength to do it all again when the time is right. Thanks so much for sharing.
Alison says
Sherry, this is such a great post and, as everyone else is saying, you are so gutsy and awesome to get it all down and share it with us. You rock, lady. I’m so happy for you and John that everything worked out so beautifully.
I have two little girls – my birth with the first was not easy but drug- and complication-free, all the things I wanted. With the second, I went into labor at 36 weeks and it turned out the cord was wrapped around her neck AND prolapsed. (We also found out afterwards that it was attached to the placenta in an unusual way so that it could have easily come apart in utero and I would have lost her with no warning.) As they were starting to wheel me out for the c-section, I birthed her naturally in two pushes. I still have no idea how that happened. Even though we were completely fine and so blessed with how things worked out, it took me a long time to wrap my head around that it had happened the way it did instead of the way I was expecting. A LONG time.
The thing I really love about your post is how you call Clara a fighter. My husband and mom (who was there) both still worry about our little one and say that seeing her birth made her seem extra vulnerable, but I feel the opposite – like that she made it through so much right at the beginning just showed me how strong she is.
Thanks so much for sharing this, Sherry. It’s a lot to go through in your first moments as a mama, but at some point, all us moms have to confront that we don’t have control over our children’s lives. Maybe confronting that at the beginning will actually stand you in good stead for the long haul… *Big hugs*
danielle says
i couldn’t read this fast enough, even though i know how it ended. and then i couldn’t see the screen past my tears to read it. thanks for taking the time, energy, and tears to share your story with us out here in blog land. have so much fun celebrating your little one’s first birthday in a few weeks and rejoicing over her sweet life!
Jazmin says
Sherry, your birth story brought tears to my eyes. I’m literally sitting here crying my eyes out. I’m so sorry that this happened to you and John. Clara is such a wonderful little girl and I had no idea your birth story was this scary. I hope your following pregnancies are complication-free and that you and John can enjoy every second of it.
Patti says
Oh my gosh, what a heart-wrenching beginning! I’m so thankful everything turned out ok for you all … and thank you for sharing your lives with us every day. I think you’ve helped a lot of people today.
Andi says
So I’m sitting here crying, thinking how lucky I was to have two wonderful deliveries. Thinking of how terrified you both must have been. I’m sorry for you that it happened that way, but Clara is so healthy and beautiful. What a miracle for sure! Thank you for sharing your story.
Sheryn says
Sherry and John- Sheryn and Simon here from Dubai. I am sorry I haven’t commented before because I’ve been obsessed with your blog (it’s in the top left corner of my “top sites” Macbook page) for a long time now.
We don’t know you, but we love you guys. Thank you for sharing your story and know that there is nothing but love for your whole family out here in the interwebs.
Jen says
Sending virtual hugs to your whole family. Your story gave me tears, both of sadness and joy. So sorry you had to go through what you did, so grateful you had the courage to share and the happy ending, so in awe of the entire story. I appreciate that you open the doors to your home and your stories each day, no matter what the subject, you are always inspirational.
Happy birthday to the cutest little bean around!
xoxo
Jen
kalibrooke says
thanks for sharing this, sherry! both a terrifying AND beautiful story… because clara is now here and she’s amazing!
Reenie says
WOW!!! I don’t even know what to say……
Lisa says
Oh my! I just took a break from report cards and read this post and hear I am crying in my empty classroom. I am 8 months pregnant as I write this. And thinking about all you have been through as a family during Clara’s birth brings fresh tears to my eyes. What a nightmare! But THANK GOD it’s a happy story.
I attribute your good fortune to God from whom all blessings flow. I thank Him for you and for all the wonderful tales you describe of home repair and decorating that I enjoy so much! Thank you for sharing such a personal story. I’ll try not to be too freaked out as I prepare (in much the same way you did) for the birth of my first child, also a daughter.
Tiffany says
I have no idea you guys went through such a traumatic birth story, but I’m very happy you shared your story. I had something very similar happen to me during my first pregnancy but my son did not make it so I know exactly how you feel. Please don’t worry if you decide to get pregnant again because I had another baby, a girl this time and I was considered High risk, which made a huge difference and everything came out much better. My girl was 6 weeks early but healthy.
Kim says
Sherri-
I’m sure you feel so blessed and thankful! I’ve followed your blog for a while but never commented. However i felt compelled today because I totally understand your nervousness thinking about another pregnancy. I also had a placental abruption.
I had two ‘normal’ uncomplicated deliveries with my first two kids. But, with my third just a little over a year ago, I woke up in my bed at home in the middle of the night. My water had broken and it was all bright red blood- and a lot of it! I was also in a tremendous amount of pain. The ambulance ride to the hospital was the longest ride of my life. I am actually an L&D nurse and the worst case scenarios were rushing through my mind. I was literally in shock upon arriving at the hospital when they told me the baby still had a heartbeat. I was so scared that it was already too late. In the end both myself and our baby girl are healthy, but I too am nervous about having another child. It’s okay to be nervous…it’s just because we care so much. Enjoy Clara’s 1st birthday celebration!
Demi says
I read this with tears in my eyes. I’m so happy that all was well in the end. Clara seems to be so sweet and is so blessed to have you and John as her amazing parents, just as you guys are blessed to have her!
Mary @ stylefyles says
I also read this in sections in order to not cry. Still got the watery eyes though. I suppose I’d expect nothing less than amazing from you, Sherry, but it’s so crazy how out of control and small we can be at times. What an intense and incredible story. As for pregnancy number two, the upside of the situation is that you’ll at least be aware going into your pregnancy. Which means you and your doctors can prepare. Obviously, I get that it’s not ideal to have to worry extra about complications, but at least awareness can help you take extra precautions to keep your baby (and yourself) safe.
On another note, want to hear a quick summary of my birth? My mom thought I was a bowel movement and I nearly ended up in the toilet. If it weren’t for my dad and a swift and savvy nurse, I literally would have ended up in the toilet bowl. Unsurprisingly, my family (especially my sisters) just LOVE to talk about it.
YoungHouseLove says
Wow- what a story. I’m sure you’re so happy whenever it comes up. Haha. So glad your dad and that nurse were around to save you!
xo,
s
sarah says
Oh Sherry- I am so sorry that you had to go through such a scare. Praise the Lord that you and Clara are both ok. Thank you sharing your story.
Amanda says
I cried all the way through reading this. We’ve had some recent scares with my one year old. He has something called Horners Syndrome. The day we found out about it they rushed him to the hospital to look for tumors and cancer. Absolutely shocking! I completely understand the rush, shock, and horrible annoying calm, and quiet state that you were experiencing. I’m so sorry that you had to go through something like this and I hope your next pregnancy and delivery will be like a dream!
Lindsay says
I had a mild complication with my first baby’s birth. I remember the terror and I’m sure it’s not even close to yours. Thanks for sharing, I’m all blubbery!
jess says
Wow, what a moving story! Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and your baby girl is such a miracle. You were so strong to write this for the world to see. :-)
Kelly says
Holy %&$#! Even though I already knew that both Clara and you survived and are healthy a year later, this was difficult and scary to read. I can’t even imagine how terrified you must have been, not knowing what was going to happen. Now that it’s all over and we know everything turned out well in the end, the part that continues to scare me is that you didn’t have any warning signs or risk factors, and I have no doubt you did everything right in your pregnancy. If something like this can happen to you, it could happen to anyone without warning.
I’m planning to get pregnant soon, and have been starting to consider things like what kind of birth I want. My cousin and a few of my friends have given birth at home, and it’s worked out fine for all of them. My mom is a nurse practitioner in women’s health and she used to work as a nurse in labor and delivery. She doesn’t want me to do a home birth because, as your experience shows, even a low-risk pregnancy can turn into a life and death situation with only minutes to react. I really thank you for writing this; it drives home that point in a more personal way. I’m crossing “home birth” off my list of options, and will most likely choose a birthing center that is within a major hospital so surgeons and an NICU are readily available. Not that I’m condemning people who choose home births – it’s a very personal decision and I respect women with the courage to do that. The point is that you’ve helped me make an important decision, and I appreciate you sharing this experience with us.
netty says
God blessed you and John, Sherry because you are wonderful, caring and loving people!
I too had a very complicated pregnancy and birth of my first daufhter, Miri Cole (she was given a 67% chance of survival). She is beautiful, healthy, and strong 4 year old now. And while I was a bit nervous about my second pregnancy, my faith had grown so strong during my first pregnancy and I learned to REALLY trust God, that I was able to enjoy and pray for my second child. I remember a point during my first pregnancy with Miri Cole, where I just KNEW that God was going to bless that little girl. And I knew with my second, that He would give my the strenght to overcome whatever came my way, and when our beautiful Mila was born (short for “Milagro” which means miracle in Spanish), she had a huge lump on her head. But, God had already prepared me, and I knew that whatever we had to do for Mila, we had the strength. She is now also, a healthy, strong, normal 2 year old! And we are now ready to begin the wonderful journey again for our 3rd (and final) precious little one.
I pray that you and John would be able to find strenght and faith in the Lord, who can do all things and heal all wounds.
~Netty
Amanda says
I just want to say that your post just brought me to tears and thank you thank you thank you for writing it! My little girl just turned 1 a month ago and when I had her I had to have an emergency c-section as well. It wasn’t for anything quite as dramatic as yours was… after 1 1/2 hours of pushing she simply wouldn’t fit. I don’t think either of us were really in any real danger. But I know what you mean about the… I won’t pay attention to that because it won’t happen to me. That is how I felt about the c-section part of everything. Ever since then when I hear others talk about their birth stories I feel like less of a mom/woman because I couldn’t do it…. and jealous because I too could not hold my little one right away and my hubby just held her up to me. You shairng your story, and every time I hear one like this, it helps me heal a little bit too! Your daughter is beautiful… and I hope you have a wonderful first birthday with her soon! Aren’t those little miracles of ours amazing!!!
audra says
whew, i’m wiping away tears. i had no idea clara was such a drama queen :) God truly held you in His hand that day and provided you with wonderful care! what a blessing that both you and clara are healthy today…and i hope you celebrate BIG on her birthday (well, and everyday! because really, what a precious gift she is!)
Emily S. says
What an amazing and scary story. Thank you for sharing such a private matter, it really makes me thanks for my own children too. I had twins c-section and the were in the NICU for 2 weeks. It all happened so fast and I didn’t get to hold them until hours late, but you would never know it now. They are the most talkative smart little boys, turning 3 in a few weeks. It is when I read experiences like yours that you shared that I remember how blessed and grateful I am. So glad that you shared this!
JessieDae says
We are currently in our 27th week … and just finished our 11th Bradley class … we are going through one of those awesome pregnancies but even though its a natural process, things can happen. Its just crazy to hear about how fast it all happens. This is a story people should read.
I’m thrilled things turned out so well for you .. and your lucky little lady! I can see how its taken you so long to write this … what an admirable story to put out there. Both you and John are so strong. Knowing that this is a part of your family story … makes seeing the happiness on your faces daily so much more meaningful!
Martha K says
Oh my – I feel so for all of you, what a terribly frightening experience. I had a similar birth story, as I experienced placenta increta, had to be double-transfused with 18 pints of blood, but at least my little daughter was safe. Blessings to all of you, and to sharing your lives with all of us!
Kristin says
I cannot even imagine. Thank you so much for sharing. God Bless.
Laura says
How difficult that time must have been for you. I’m so glad it worked out. Aren’t you so happy for modern medicine and those amazing people that have trained their whole career for these situations?
Clara is destined for something great I think.
I hope you feel a little better by sharing it. I agree with John – try to relax with the next and enjoy it. Don’t look so hard for signs. But it’s understandable if you do. I did a little after I had complications with my first. It was my mom who finally convinced me to let it go and enjoy.
I had no idea we were in such distress during delivery. The Doctors did a good job of hiding it from me until the middle of it when I began to see their stress and then the TEAM of nurses and doctors hovering over me gave it away. At first I thought, “what good service!” duh, it was life and death but we made it through and I went on to have more kids (2 miscarriages unfortunately) But stronger for it all.
Thanks,
L
Sandra says
Thank you for sharing this; may it be cathartic and help you heal. Certainly, judging by the amount of comments your post generated, it touched and uplifted a lot of people.
My pregnancy was high-risk (triplets), and I spent every day in some degree of fear and concern. That being said, my experience also brought a deep sense of gratitude for every complication-free day, taught me extreme patience and acceptance, and actually helped quell some of my, um, more frenetic tendencies. It did not in any way diminish the joy of feeling my little ones kick. In fact, I suspect it heightened the emotion. I tried so hard to take comfort in the little things, knowing that my pregnancy could end suddenly and perhaps not happily; I was determined to focus on the positive as much as I could. After all, my positivity could not hurt anything, it could only help. It was tough.
My babies were born tiny but perfect at almost 32 weeks gestation and spent a month in the hospital. They are now happy and healthy 7 months old. Like you, I suspect that my trial by fire makes me hold them a little closer, and snuggle them a little bit longer. A silver lining, if there ever was one!
H
Whitney says
God definately has plans for that little girl. He was surely watching over your family that day!
Cara says
It has taken me hours to read all the way through this post because I keep crying, so I can only imagine how you must have felt this past year and while you were writing it.
Reading this brings back a lot of memories from the birth of my son (which was not *nearly* as scary as Clara’s birth!!)…I had preeclampsia and heard the doctors and nurses talking about “baby in distress.” Luckily, everything turned out fine.
It sounds like Miss Clara was truly Meant To Be, and even from pictures you can tell what a bright little spirit she has. :-)
virginia says
So glad you guys are both okay. Clara is an amazing and beautiful miracle; thanks so much for sharing her story.
Karla says
Oh Sherry.
You are so strong a brave to share that story. I lost my son he lived for 95 minutes at the hospital. We found out he had a fatal birth defect at our 20 wk appt, but we carried him to term. Anyway, its a long story that I don’t need to get into. I remember leaving the hospital clinching Isaiah’s blanket and a baseball that the nurse stamped his footprint on. I was thinking, I wish no other women had to go through this, this empty feeling. I am so happy you didn’t have to go through that as no one should. I wish you many happy years with Clara and many other children!! I understand not being able to feel so carefree with pregnancy, but I wish you joy and happiness. Thank you for working up the courage to share that story. Even if it was more for yourself than for us!! Much love,
Karla
YoungHouseLove says
I’m so sorry for your loss Karla. I can’t even imagine.
xo,
s
Susan says
I am so proud of you for taking this opportunity to share the traumatic events surrounding Clara’s birth. I had a miscarriage and then 3 years later my daughter was born and died shortly after her birth. We went through genetic testing and even went through the process of being approved for adoption. After learning that we could try again, we had two more children. I am not going to say that I did not worry because I did. Mine were considered “high risk” and I did everything I could do humanly possible to make sure they would be okay. The absolute best thing I did was to put it in God’s hands. After all, He had been with me as I stumbled through the haze following Aimee’s death. I had two beautiful children that have made our lives complete. Enjoy Clara and as far as future babies, I can assure that you and John will handle that, too! Thanks so much for sharing!
YoungHouseLove says
Oh Susan I’m so sorry for your loss. It really is great to hear that you went on to have two beautiful children. You guys are all so amazing to share your stories and your support.
xo,
s
Ashley Buchan says
Thank you SO much for sharing your story!!! You’re a strong mama :)