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.
Angela says
Sherry and John,
I have yet to experience motherhood but this is still really touching. I’m so glad Clara is healthy and obviously so very happy! All the more reason to count your blessings and celebrate her birthday, and the tremendous outcome, this month!
My heart goes out to all the families that have posted of loss. I’ll be thinking of all of you, your bravery and your little ones on earth and/or as angels. Hold them in your hearts forever.
BIG LOVE. Thanks for the story.
Deborah says
Sherry,
Thank you so much for having the courage to share your story. My heart is so heavy for the worry that you went through, but so light when I think of the amazing miracle that Clara is! Thank you for the reminder of how precious and uncertain life can be. The minute I get off work, I’m going to go home and kiss my little six month old bundle of joy til he wriggles away! :) Please know that I’ll be praying for you and sending positive thoughts your way when you do decide to add more little beans to your family. Much love!!
Dianna says
Thank you for sharing. In this day in age, when we do not live in such communal environments, it is critical for women to share their birthing stories so that we know no one is alike and the good comes with the ugly. Thank God for your happily ever after ending.
I too am a small woman, had absolutely no pregnancy complications (not even vomiting), my mom had two quick and easy births (so I assumed I would too), I planned to go-with-the-flow on pain meds, all much like you. After 15 hours of natural (no pain meds) labor I finally desired the epidural and in doing so my son’s heartbeat dropped suddenly and I was rushed into emergency c-section too.
Now, for my question to you. Did that 39 week belly leave your stomach scarred? My 9 lbs son in my 120 lbs belly left me with a spider web of stretch marks and a mutilated belly button. The c-section scar is all but invisible, but this tummy will never see the light of day again. Sigh.
YoungHouseLove says
You’re going to hate me but I didn’t get stretch marks. It’s a gene thing I think since my mom didn’t get them either. I didn’t use cream or anything and I got huge so I think it just might be the type of skin flexibility I inherited or something. But I definitely don’t have the same body I had before Clara – haha. But she’s worth a roll here or there!
xo,
s
Kristi says
I didn’t get stretch marks until week 40. By the time the baby made his entrance 2 weeks later, they’d spread all over. Ah the joy. I believe they’re genetic, too.
MaryGene says
I seriously had tears in my eyes reading this!!! I think there were definitely a few angels mixed in with those doctors and nurses!!
Jessica says
Thank you for sharing your story, and thank God that you and Clara both came through so well.
I understand the feeling that your will be on high alert with your next pregnancy: My oldest son was born via emergency c-section due to a sudden change from a perfectly normal pregnancy to my developing HELLP syndrome and DIC, and his initial APGAR was a 3– I too most remember the silence, and waiting for him to cry, followed by the anesthesiologist telling me that it was time for me to “go to sleep”. His 5 minute APGAR was a 9 (the joke among health care professionals is that only Pediatricians’ kids get a perfect 10, *smile*), and here 11 years later, he is still as close to perfect as a boy can be.
I was terrified that my next pregnancy would result in similar drama and chaos, but I’m happy to tell you that it was as normal as normal could be, and my baby (I scheduled a c-section, in the interest of controlling as many variables that go round as possible) was born with an initial APGAR of 9, and a scream that pretty much continued for the first 3 months of his life.
Your next pregnancy/delivery could definitely go without a “hitch”. So do try your best to at least consider John’s plea to go into it with a fresh outlook, and a happy go lucky attitude. I firmly believe that what’s meant to be, WILL be, and we are often just along for the ride, so there is no sense in worrying about things that are out of your control.
Melissa says
Sherry, my heart goes out to you.
My first pregnancy was easy peasy, but the delivery was difficult. I won’t go into details (baby boy was fine in the end), but the emotional hurt I carried from that birth experience haunted me through the birth of my second. It in having my second son that I was healed.
Having babies is a tricky business. :)
I’m so happy your story had a happy ending…and I hope the pain eases for you over the years as it has for me. Hugs.
Meredith K A says
I am so happy you shared your story. It seems like the timing has been eerily on the nose for a bunch of people for a bunch of reasons, and you can add me to the list: it’s a year ago this week that we started trying to get pregnant, and 4 weeks from today would have been my due date, but I had an early miscarriage at 7 weeks, and I haven’t gotten pregnant again yet (fingers crossed for this month!). However, there’s no reason to believe that anything is “wrong”; a surprisingly high number of pregnancies don’t make it through the first month or two, and usually it’s just a “bad egg,” and future pregnancies are fine. I was inspired by your story and some of the comments I read to write a post of my own:
http://www.peacelovemath.com/2011/04/parsing-some-feelings.html
Thanks again, and know that I look forward to your blog every day, and I think you have struck the perfect balance of personal, DIY, baby, family, pop-culture, etc. I feel weird when I talk about you like you’re friends of mine and have to explain that it’s just a blog I read, but it’s just that awesome! I’m always saying “I just read on YHL that…”
Keep up the awesome work, youngsters!
YoungHouseLove says
I’m so sorry about your miscarriage Meredith. Fingers are crossed for this month!
xo,
s
Alison says
I knew you guys were awesome, but this just makes me root for you more! You’re right, you’re so very lucky!! Now I know why you are always the optimist, I think even I (the super-pessimist) would change my tune after such a miracle! Happy Birthday, Clara!
Sarah says
I’m sitting here 16 weeks pregnant with my second sobbing at your story (darn pregnancy hormones). I’m so sorry you had to go through such a traumatic birth. She is a beautiful little girl. Due to secondary infertility, our little ones will be almost 4 years apart, which is definitely much more of a gap than we wanted. But I’ve been assured that a 3-4 year gap is awesome due to the older one being a big help (we’ll see if this holds true). Good luck to you, and happy birthday to Clara!
Kate says
I just started reading, and I feel so fortunate to have gotten to “know” you, John and Clara over the last few weeks. This is an amazing story, and I actually started crying while reading it–you are both so brave. Thank you for sharing this incredibly personal story.
Jen says
Wow, I don’t even know what to say. You had me trying hard to fight tears as I read this at work. I don’t have any kids yet, but I can’t even imagine how horrible this must have been for you and John!! Thank God it all turned out okay and there was a happy ending! Clara is beautiful! :)
Geralis says
So so glad you are all alright. Words just don’t say enough. Thanks for sharing
valerie J. says
Sherry, I had a traumatic 38 hour labor and delivery that ended in an unwanted C/S. All the feelings you shared are perfectly normal and I’m starting to realize I need to mourn my experience, then move on as best I can. Baby and I ended up healthy in the end. I’m preggers with our 2nd baby and it truly took alot of soul searching to accept getting pregnant again…at all. I’m planning a VBAC and pray for a healing L&D to help me realize my body isn’t broken. Children are amazing, but they sure can scare the pants off us! :)
Kate says
Sherry, I don’t know that I’ve ever commented before but I pop in daily. I’m so glad you chose to go public with this story. This particular post while traumatic (and not at all house related) is so educational to all mothers-to be. Your description of what placental abruption feels like may inform another mom and save a baby’s life. What a hard story to go through… and to tell! (And to read.)
I have five kids of my own and let me tell you…we LOVE Clara! The kids love when she makes the blog and gather around to
Stephanie says
Sherry,
What a scary and incredible story you have! Amazing and thank you for having the courage. I myself haven’t had an easy road to having babies. Our son Noah was stillborn at 36 weeks due to a cord complication. My daughter Hope was born at 33 weeks due to pre-term labor 3 years ago and spent a month in the NICU. And our latest addition Ella (now 5 months) was a pretty healthy 36 week birth again due to pre term labor. I can honestly say I know what it feels like to be scared and not take the whole pregnancy thing so lightly. But now I am blessed to have two daughters and to have even had each pregnancy’s outcome get better. I hope whenever your next pregnancy is that it is just as happy as your’s with Clara although there will always be that underlying fear of “what if?”. Thanks for sharing your family’s incredible story. And give that precious miracle baby a hug from one of your fans!
YoungHouseLove says
I’m so sorry for your loss. I honestly cant even imagine that. But I’m so glad to hear that things got better and you went on to have two healthy kiddos. You guys don’t even know how much your stories and comments have helped me.
xo,
s
Suzannah says
I have a baby girl too that’s just 2 weeks younger than Clara.
Thank you so much for sharing. What a beautiful story.
It wasn’t until my own baby that I realized how much of a miracle it truly is to have a baby! What a beautiful blessing you have.
Jennah says
Amazing story and thanks for sharing. So many only share the happy perfect stuff! My parents had a baby girl before me – she was stillborn, suffocated by the core during birth. So the horrible image of my parents coming home to a set up nursery just kills me. She had me 2 years later with n complications, then had a miscarriage at 4.5 months when I was little. I kind of wish I could, but I just can’t take for granted that I’ll come home with a baby until I actually do. Especially after having dealt with an (early) MC of my own.
You two made a beautiful little girl, and you’ll make another wonderful kid when you’re both ready.
Jennah says
*cord. You know what I mean. Hard to properly type when feeling all sappy-sad. ok there are other typos, too.
Kate says
Note to self…don’t hit enter before I finish the sentence.
Sherry, I don’t know that I’ve ever commented before but I pop in daily. I’m so glad you chose to go public with this story. This particular post while traumatic (and not at all house related) is so educational to all mothers-to be. Your description of what placental abruption feels like may inform another mom and save a baby’s life. What a hard story to go through… and to tell! (And to read.)
I have five kids of my own and let me tell you…we LOVE Clara! The kids love when she makes the blog and gather around to laugh at that sweet EXPRESSIVE face. What a gift, and a miracle she is!!
Amy says
It’s a tribute to you guys and your awesome readers that your wonderful, heart-felt post has as many responses as your fab-freebies. I hope you guys know that you are wonderful, and thanks for sharing your life with all of us out here in Internet land!
Elle says
Wow! Thanks for being brave enough to share. That had to be a terrifying time and I totally understand why you’d wait to share it. It’s a lot to process. We’re all so glad to be on this end of things with you and to see the beautiful baby girl at the end of it all.
Sharmela says
I calmly read this story in bed this morning, with my baby sitting next to me having her morning bottle. And then I bawled when I read about your emergency c-section because it reminded me of my baby’s birth story. Though it was not nearly as critical as yours it reminded me how precious my baby is and what a gift it is that she is here. How blessed you are to have a beautiful thriving baby girl! thanks for the great reminder about mine!
Mish says
Wow, I cried and cried reading this – what an amazing ending though – or should I say beginning to a wonderful family of three – I mean, four :)
You guys are a truly inspiration family, and your little girl is just gorgeous!!! So glad that you are able to take the biggest positive out of your difficult situation to shower her with love – best of luck with everything!
Toni says
Sherry & John (and precious Clara),
I am sobbing reading this. My last labor and delivery was a nightmare that caused severe PTSD. I fully understand your pain. Do know, that time heals. There will be a day you can look back on Clara’s birth and not feel the fear all over again. You’ll never forget it, but you will be able to process it much more easily. You are a beautiful family, and Clara is a true gift.
Much love.
Chelsea says
Wow, I am in tears here at the office. I am so glad you shared your story and think you wrote it so beautifully. I am sure you will be so grateful you wrote it down and will read it over and over in the years to come. It is true, we don’t think about how quickly things can change. It makes me scared as I am 6 months pregnant but it also reminds me to always be grateful for the miracle of this little baby inside of me.
Lisa Gentry says
Thank you for sharing this. I just had my baby girl 1 month ago today, and we had a healthy pregnancy until I went into labor, and they realized I had something called Velamentus Cord Insertion, which is very dangerous to baby. They had to rush me into c-section,and it was exactly like how you described. Like a movie- rushing through the halls, concerned doctors and nurses, etc. It was terrifying. I still feel some trauma when I think about it now. It’s nice to hear a similar experience from someone else. Thanks for sharing.
Chelsea says
And I forgot to mention that Clara is THEE cutest little girl in the world. Happy Birthday to her!
KatieV says
Tears streaming down my face… and I don’t even “know” you! You expressed so clearly what I know a lot of women feel (happy/ignorant bliss during pregnancy, replaced by fear and worry but most of all LOVE). I’m so glad you and Clara made it through beautifully.
Laura says
Wow, that is a scary story! Clara is a miracle baby. I’m so glad I knew it had a happy ending as I was reading it.
Maky says
You got me bawling my eyes out… I can’t even imagine what you must’ve been through! What a little miracle your family is then, considering all that could have gone wrong.
Lucky Clara, to have such amazing parents and lucky you, to have such a little sunshine in your lives :)
Liz H. says
Thank you for sharing your battle of love for your little one. I am pregnant with my first baby and am admittedly naive when it comes to all things labor-related. I am humbled to hear about the love you had for your daughter and husband throughout the retelling of Clara’s birthday. How beautifully raw love can be sometimes. Praise God for your family and His hand in your lives.
Melissa says
Wow, God’s hand was with you all from beginning to end! What a miracle!! I pray that with your next pregnancy, you will have peace that surpasses all understanding & you won’t be scared at all! Phillipians 4:7
Joy_UK says
I don’t leave comments very often even though I’m an avid reader/fan.
Just wanna thank you for sharing your story. It is hard to imagine how it must have felt to go through all of that.
I am just so so glad she is here and all healthy and happy for us all to see.
I wish you all the best, your family is special :)
Love x
katie says
sherry and john,
thank you for sharing your story. it takes a lot of courage to be so vulnerable in front of so many people. is there anything you *don’t* share with us? =)
as a future doctor looking forward to delivering babies, thank you also for sharing your perspective. the training is rigorous, and it’s the human stories like yours that inspire to keep going, to someday be that doc there to celebrate life’s sweetest moments and to have the knowledge, skills and levelheadedness to handle to unimaginable.
thank you!
nita says
vow!! i am still recovering from your story. u are one strong person. and little clara…. may god keep her always happy and healthy, and her to be little bros and siss as well.
Sarah says
Wow, thanks so much for sharing. Glad you and Clara are healthy and happy now!!!
Rebecca says
Thanks for sharing! Clara is adorable!
haley says
Thank you. xoxo
Lauren says
You are a tremendous woman and a fabulous writer! I’m so grateful that you shared this story with us. Life is never a straight line and it’s these reminders that help us appreciate the beauty of the curve balls. I know how scared you are, and mixed up with joy and panic…being a parent will make us Never the Same. Hang on for the ride and THANK YOU both for sharing this intimate journey!
Andrea says
Sherry,
What a traumatizing day. So glad to know Clara’s story.
Also glad you, as a read-by-millions blogger, could talk about this and make everyone think just for a second about what a miracle a birth is. I’ve had 2 c-sections with babes that came out with their own crazy stories, but what’s most important is that they are here. Mostly healthy. And it didn’t matter how *I* wanted them to arrive – the point was to get them out. Period.
Just wondering – will your OB or hospital do a VBAC? I was saddened to find out mine don’t allow it but my second section was sook much better than the first!
YoungHouseLove says
My docs and hospital does VBACs but for my specific complications, should they arise again, a c-section is the fastest way to save the baby. I’m just going to play it by ear and see what happens.
xo,
s
Jennie says
beautiful story.
Thresha says
What a story….so glad it had a happy ending and you both are okay.
Jane says
Well done. Talking about it & admitting how scary it all was is a big step along the way to healing.
I had my 1st after a completely textbook pregnancy, at 40+4, natural, 9lb 7oz, perfection. My 2nd was another completely textbook pg, 40+5, great fast labour & relatively easy delivery & then it all went a bit wrong. I haemorraghed but it took them an hour to realise, by which time I was very, very ill. DH had left the room to ring the new big brother & when he came back there was panic everywhere & the room was full of busy people.
He could relate to what John went through, he had to sit with our daughter, convinced he was about to be left with 2 children & no wife. I was sure I was going to die at the time but was surprisingly ok with that…
After a long hospital stay we made it home, but it was 6 months before I stopped having related problems & operation related to the birth & about 7 before I sheepishly mentioned to dh that I’d been very melodramatic & had actually thought I was going to die, at which point he looked me in the eye & told me he had been sure I was. It was then that my emotional healing started.
I completely understand your fear for subsequent pregnancies but you are helping yourself by working through your thoughts & fears.
Good Luck xxx
Rebekah Gibson says
Thanks for sharing this. I didn’t have time to read through all of the comments above but I had a VERY similar birth with my first daughter. She spent a week in the NICU afterward and is now a healthy rambunctious three year old. I now have a second daughter and was terrified when I found out we were expecting again, BUT my second birth was much better. Anyway, from one mom to another who has been there, THANKS for sharing this – it was brave and courageous of you. You are such a great writer and it means so much that others can get a glimpse of what so many take for granted. Your daughter is beautiful and blessed to have such great parents!
Colleen says
Sherry, that was simply beautiful. Your love for your family is evident in every word. My baby boy was born by C-section after learning he was breech. When it came time for the delivery we found that the cord was wrapped around his neck 4 times. I had also looked forward to a natural birth, but I thank God for the C-section everytime I think of what could’ve happened to him if he was in distress. You are a strong woman, not just for surviving your ordeal, but from accepting it.
Terri Simmons says
God is so good.
Twenty -four years ago I had a placental abruption that ended in a c-section and a baby with 0 apgar. But we made it through and she is a wonderful young lady. I went on to have two vaginal births with no complications. And yes, I was scared both times. But God doesn’t give us the spirit of fear. You can do it and it will be worth it.
Thank you for sharing your story.
Terri
Audrey says
Sherry, thank you so much for sharing your birth story. I am crying for you as I write this. It must have been so hard for you to write it and relive it, but hopefully this helps you heal as well.
You are so strong and brave, and I am so sorry you had this experience but so happy it all worked out alright. Being frightened is nothing to be ashamed of, nor is being lucky.
Be well.
beth lehman says
Your story is quite amazing – I really can’t say I’ve heard any quite like it! I had an emergency section also and a scare – not as serious as yours – it’s unbelievable these things and how out of your body you can feel… I’m so glad you are able to be grateful for the precious gift that Clara is – I think telling your story will help you and others.
Mindy says
Oh Sherry and John. As a fellow new mama, the tears were flowing as I read this entry! When my little Liv was born, the first thing I said to her was, “It’s always been you.” To know this little girl was planned for us from the beginning… I wholeheartedly believe it… Just as Clara was specifically for you. She’ll read this entry someday and know that’s the truth. :) And admire your strength! I hope you feel better after writing all of this out!
Lisa says
Thank you for sharing your story.