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.
Karla says
Thank you for sharing such a personal story with us. I’m in tears over here as well. What a terrifying experience for you all, I’m so glad it had a happy ending.
Nicola says
Sherry,
I am about to get married in 5 months, and have already started having little dreams about what our future kids will look like. Your nursery was so inspiring when you were doing it on the blog, I’ve started playing with ideas for the ‘one day nursery’ room in our house. Reading this story, I could really put myself in your shoes. I can’t imagine this happening, especially with your first baby. It brought me to tears as I pictured my fiance standing in the hospital in the scrubs – I only hope I could be as strong as the three of you were if something goes awry when our time comes. You have a BEAUTIFUL family and deserve all the happiness that Clara has brought to your lives in the last year.
Best – Nicola~
Candy says
You are single-handedly responsible for making a pregnant girl cry in Subway over her pizza sub.
Thank you so much for sharing this. I’m pregnant with my first and keep reading “It hurt alot for a little while and then we had a baby” birth stories. I’m scared, but, in a way, your story made me feel better. Congratulations on such a wonderful little family :)
Karina says
Aww, I am in tears! You are a gorgeous preggo by the way :D!
YoungHouseLove says
Aw thanks Karina! Don’t believe that for a second though- I just showed the pics that didn’t look totally terrible. It’s all about editing. Haha.
xo,
s
Emily @ Our Waldo Bungie says
What an amazing story. I was crying at work reading it. Unbelievable. You wouldn’t know that you had any complications at all from how beautiful Clara turned out and how quickly you seemed to bounce back! I am sure celebrating her first birthday will be so sweet for you guys! Thanks for sharing!
Kristin (Aust) says
What a truly terrifying experience for you guys. Every baby is a gift, but when you’ve had to fight so hard, it just pushes your love and adoration for that little being right off the charts doesn’t it. Well done to you both, especially for working on your mindset now for the second one – we have stopped at one because we know we just couldn’t do it again, I really admire your strength.
And Clara is a gorgeous girl :)
xxx
Laura Lewis says
Nobody has walked into my office all day. Leave it to the five minutes spent reading the most amazing story for someone to walk in as the tears were falling! What a fabulous ending to such a scary story. You guys are so blessed! <3
Melanie A. says
WOW. I may be repeating something someone else said (didn’t read through 1,300 comments!) but I’m sorry your first birth experience had to be so difficult- I completely understand your misgivings about future pregnancies/deliveries! I’m 9 weeks away from my due date with our third (first boy!) and I’ve had uneventful/decent experiences before…still, thanking God for modern medicine, and, beyond that, the miraculous fact that your baby girl came through to bless your lives so unbelievably!
Thanks for sharing; I’ve been a “lurker” for many months but HAD to comment on this post. Can’t resist hearing others’ birth and pregnancy stories, especially right now! :)
debbie says
Sherry…thanks for sharing your story. I just gave birth to my daughter 3 weeks ago, and was crying reading about Clara. I am so glad things turned out okay…she is such a beautiful, happy girl! Life it truly a miracle, isn’t it?
alice says
amazing story!
well done!
Angela B. says
Sherry,
What an amazing blessing Clara is to you! Thank you for sharing her birth story. I am so glad that you are both safe!
XX says
My mum has a virtually identical story, sadly didn’t end as well as you.
But 4 years later she had me, all healthy and happy.
Makes your beautiful Clara all the more special
Tania says
I too burst into tears reading this at work. Thank you for being brave and sharing your story. Clara is just beautiful and I’m so glad that everything turned out ok for your family. They say that the first birthday party is more for the parents than the baby, and boy, do you deserve to celebrate — truly a miracle.
Katharine says
You told so well of your pain and your joy. I wept.
Katie says
Hugs!
My first daughter entered the world in much the same way, only I was at home when the bleeding started and I had to be put completely under for the delivery. I was young, healthy and had absolutely no risk factors. It was terrifying and I have never re-read the birth story I wrote out…and she’s 8 now.
To offer enouragement, I’ve since had 4 more healthy deliveries, not a single abruption reoccurance, and I thank God every day!
Happy (almost) Birthday to your sweet girl!
YoungHouseLove says
Just the thing I love to hear. Thanks so much for sharing Katie! You guys are the best.
xo,
s
Theresa says
I have always said Clara has amazing expressions on her face. What a personality she has already! She is a special little girl! I hope this helps your healing process. My best, Theresa
Alison says
Wow, I am floored. What a beautiful and amazing birth story. Thank you, thank you, thank you for sharing. I just had my first child, a cute lil baby boy. I had the same pregnancy experience… So easy. I fully expected to have a vaginal birth. I knew I was going to completely kick labor and delivery’s butt. Then at 37 weeks we did our last ultrasound and he was breech. My heart was broken because my intuition knew he wouldn’t turn head down. We had a c section scheduled before we left the appt. I was so disappointed about not getting to experiencing any contractions. I cried every night til morning of surgery. We checked one last time before surgery and he was still breech. Surgery was easy and relaxed and my little mister was pulled out and let out a huge wail. I can’t imagine what it was like for you not to hear her cry. My heart swells for you.
In the end, no one has the birth experience they imagine. Thank goodness for the amazing doctors that care for us. I just went for my 6 week check up and seriously have the biggest girl crush ever on my dr.
Hope you can grieve the birth you expected and come to terms that despite your complications you had the experience you were meant to have. And that baby girl is so lucky to have such a fighter of a mom!
Kirsty says
Oh you guys!! What a terrifying experience you had to go through! It had me in tears from the beginning. Thank you so much for sharing it with us, I’m so happy that everything turned out well in the end. Clara is a healthy and beautiful little girl and is definitely a little fighter :) Much love to your family!
xo K
Lea says
I just want to send you and your family my love. I imagine myself in your story, imagine my husband holding scrubs and being scared and stark white, imagine wanting nothing but for our child to live… and it makes me want to cry wretched cries but also makes me so joyful that you three are in this world, together and happy.
Thank you for sharing.
Heather says
Thank you for sharing your story. I, like many other readers, had to walk away from the computer a few times because I was overwhelmed even knowing that it had a happy ending! I praise God He brought you three through this terrible experience safe and sound. Clara is so very precious. Her joy for life bursts through every picture (as does your’s and John’s). Thank you for sharing your story. Just imagine what wonderful plans He has for your family. “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11 NIV
Megan says
I cannot even begin to imagine the fear you must have felt, and am so thankful that it turned out the way it did. You and John are such wonderful people, you deserve nothing but the best. And you got it with Clara. Thank you for sharing such a painful and emotional story. I hope the sharing helps you heal.
Dana says
You are amazing. I am so happy everything was okay in the end.
JS says
Sherry,
I’m so glad you could share this story. I’m a labor and delivery nurse and expecting my first child. (Talk about knowing too much) Hearing this story from your perspective as the patient is remarkable. Your story was refreshing for my nurse’s soul. As a future mom it terrifies me, but like you said, the odds are like winning the lottery!
I feel like I could gush on and on, but I will just say that I am so thrilled for you, John, and little-miracle-baby Clara. Can’t wait to hear more about the little one’s first birthday ~ a day to celebrate for sure!
shana says
Thank you for sharing your story. I simply don’t have words to say how touched I am daily by your energy and positive energy and creativity and am stunned by the strength you had to dig up to overcome the intensity of Clara’s birth. Both of you are a wonderful couple and Clara is destined to be an amazing little woman.
Jeanne-Marie says
Sherry,
What a touching story you bravely shared with everyone. I had to stop reading it three times because I was tearing up at my desk. I love love love your blog. You are so down to earth and I love that you keep it real. What a rare trait for someone so beautiful. I hope you have the best birthday party ever.
Jeanne
Lane says
Thanks for sharing such a personal and difficult story.
Prior to having me, my mom had miscarriages, stillbirths and even a premature baby that didn’t make it. My mom died of cancer many years ago and right before she died she confessed to me that my first name was the name of the baby boy that had died after a week. She hadn’t told me all my life thinking that it would upset me. Instead, it made me feel connected to the big brother I might have had and also compassion for my mom who endured so much because she wanted children.
I know when Clara gets older she will value her birth story and know how much of a miracle her birth was. What I often think we miss on your birthdays, with all the gifts, cakes & parties, is the awareness that we were wanted and loved so much by our parents. It’s what celebrating a birthday should be all about. xo
christina says
After reading this I looked at my 2 month olds (I have three of them) and just appreciated how amazing it is that I have three healthy babies. I’m so glad that your little Clara is a healthy and happy girl a year after such a scary entrance into the world, and that you’re a healthy and happy mama who is here and able to take care of her. Thanks for sharing your story.
Oh, and a plus side to having a high-risk pregnancy is that you get loads of ultrasounds :)
Kim Sutcliffe says
I’m just about to start my working day as a primary teacher and I have tears in my eyes. Thank you so much for sharing your experience. Really makes you take stock in the things you have. Your blog is part of my daily routine. Happy birthday to beautiful Clara.
xx
Meredith says
Thank you for sharing. A miracle baby, that Clara! As one emergency c-section “survivor” (I often say me and/or my baby would not have made it 100 years ago) I am right there with you – slice and dice, baby! I have had two subsequent, non-eventful, dare I say, easy in comparison, c-sections. When you are not recovering from the reason for the emergency c-section AND the surgery itself, then it is an easier recovery.I have managed to make it until 18+ weeks with each of m pregnancies before announcing it. It is possible!
Sara says
For those of us who have not yet had babies, I thank you for telling your story! It educates all of us and puts the reality into it that a birth might not be picture perfect. I can’t even imagine the kind of emotional and physical pain you were feeling. I’m so glad that you all are happy and healthy now! You certainly put a tear in my eye, and I had to stop reading it on my lunch break and finish at home. May it be the best 1st birthday celebration ever!
Laura says
Tear…. this is what I had at the end of this birth story. As a mother of a 16 month baby girl old AND an NICU nurse, this story is so real to me. I’m glad the outcome was happy :) and you have your beautiful, healthy daughter!
Robin says
I know I already posted a book earlier by my I hadn’t had a chance to read your story completely until now and I think I’m having flashbacks. When I had my chord prolapse/abruption and my surgery was over I remember all of the nurses and doctors visiting too knowing exactly who I was and what had happened. My doctor, who retired shortly after..ha ha..even came in and gave me a tearful hug when I woke up telling me how lucky we were. I don’t know anyone else it has happened to, so seeing it happened to you and we both have healthy babies (he was low on the apgar and had palsy in his right side for a day but recovered) is so amazing, even if it was the bad birth experience lottery. Happy birthday to your little Clara next month and our little Henry the month after. What a day to celebrate.
Meredith says
Oh my gosh, you really are a wonderfully strong family in every sense of the word! I was one of those completely-random dramatic-entry babies myself, and for some strange reason, it makes me proud that I survived and thrived, even though it may have been purely chance. I hope Clara gets that sense one day too!!!
Heidi says
Your post is brave both in terms of you opening up emotionally to all of your readers, but also because it shows that pregnancy and motherhood is not always what we want it to be or think it “should be” as told to us by books, TV, movies, or other mommies.
This post made me cry out loud at my desk (in my own office, thankfully). I was having a bad day and this really refocused my thinking and put my priorities straight. I have 2 boys that just turned 1 and 4 (3yrs and 12 days apart) and it made me want to do nothing but RUN home and wrap them in my arms.
Thank you for your honesty and knocking some sense into me from afar.
Happy Early Birthday Clara!
georgia says
This is such an amazing story.
I haven’t got any kids yet, and by kids I mean children… Not baby goats… Haha
Even before reading this story, I never thought your clara crazy, you seem like an amazingly loving family who want to see and experience every bit of her baby-hood, and who wouldn’t? Your so lucky to be at home with her 24/7, and your story makes me think that she is going to be one precious little girl! Love the story, and hope its helped ‘heal’ your emotions sherry :)
What’s johns thoughts on the delivery now- how does he feel?
Xx
YoungHouseLove says
I think that day might have scared him more than it did me (just having to stand there and watch and not be able to do anything must have been terrifying). But he’s my rock and he’s amazingly strong and supportive about everything. It’s his mission to help me enjoy Clara and any future baby (or babies) and he still has unbelievable optimism and courage. I’m so lucky to have him.
xo,
s
Georgia says
Awww you two are such sweeties, seriously your like an old black and white romantic movie kinda sweet…!
Clara is very lucky to have an Awesome Mummy and Daddy!!
x
Cassie says
I think there needed to be a warning at the top of this post, “you will cry when you read this, so be prepared if you’re at work”. No, but in all seriousness, thank you for sharing your story. It was so honest and beautiful. I’m sure it was incredibly difficult to relive this again while writing this post. I appreciate your blog on a daily basis. Thank you!
Cheri says
You don’t get “over” a traumatic labor and delivery. I’ve had 3. I would redo every difficult delivery/surgery to have my precious children. Two babies are in college now and one is leaving for college this summer. Talk about a different kind of pain. Time really does fly and the joy/sadness of life continues.
Josephine says
Sherry, thank you so much for sharing your story. I had my breath held during the entire post, even though I know it ends well. My own first born, Oliver, arrived on the very same day as Clara, although a hemisphere apart, and so I have loved see them grow ‘together’. But hearing your experience breaks my heart. I want so much for your next birth to be complication-free and a completely joyous occasion.
I hope talking about the birth has helped you (and John)!
While I’m here (‘coz I’m a chronic rare commenter), I want to thank you also for the amazing blog you create on a daily basis (as well as child-wrangling!), it’s always a pleasure to stop by and read about what you’re up to. All the best getting through that loooong to-do list ;-)
Charise says
This is a beautifully written account of a very scary experience, and had to be difficult to put into words. Thank you for sharing, and I am so glad everyone came out the end of it healthy!
SarahR says
And now those great big bright blue eyes!! I too have had a terrifying first birth, my 2nd daughter was then diagnosed with type 1 diabetes at 18mnths, so with the third I was so petrified the whole way through the pregnancy that it wasn’t even that enjoyable. I let on to everybody else that I was peachy-keen, but inside I was FREAKED OUT!! It all worked out great, but I understand your uneasy feelings.
Jessica M says
I teared up while reading this…thank you for sharing and being so brave: it’s inspiring.
r8chel says
Thanks for sharing your story. I got the chills when I read the words “but the baby actually survived.” I’m so glad you and Clara both made it through the scary ordeal!
Becca says
Wow! What a terrifying and yet wonderful story. Thanks for sharing. I hope it made you feel a little bit better to get it out too!
Sam says
Thank you for being strong and brave enough to share your story!
Anna says
This post totally made me cry…and I was reading it on the bus on the way home from work. Could not stop crying! My baby is 10.5 months old and was born c-section too (unplanned, but in the hospital I was just like ‘whatever it takes to get her out safely’). I count myself blessed that she got here safe and sound and I’m with you — whatever needs to happen to bring that baby into the world safely is what I’ll do. It’ll be natural to have some anxiety the next time around, but I hope it all goes perfectly. (p.s. that Clara is quite the fighter and cute too!)
acaptainswife says
Thanks for sharing Sherry.
If it’s any consolation, my daughter (my first) was born after a long and complicated and painful and scary labour but my son (my second) literally flew out in 2 hours start to finish of drugfree awesomeness. Two totally different experiences, both of which I am grateful for in one way or another.
acaptainswife says
PS: It took 3 years for me to gather the guts to get pregnant again, but I’m so so glad I did. Watching my kids play, laugh, fight, sing and be together is the light of my life.
Polina says
This is such an emotional subject, i was crying reading the story. I felt very thankful for amazing medical team that was there for you at that critical time.
Kirsten says
Sherry,
Your birth story sounds amazingly similar to mine.
I went for an ultrasound at 35 weeks, due to measuring to small. The nurse stared at her screen for 3 minutes, turned to me and said call your husband get him to bring your overnight bag and get upstairs.
No explanation just do it.
I was on the table and my son out within five minutes, my husband arrived just as he was being taken from me to the side table. I UNDERSTAND how scared and alone you felt. But take hope and strength in knowing that the next may not be so bad. When my son was 14months i fell pregnant with my second, and even though it had to be another csection (apparently my womb is like a mans….nurses words, not mine. wasnt aware men had wombs???)
The birth was complication free and my husband there for every second.
A womens body is an amazing thing. You will heal and do it again and that child of yours will be worth all the fear and anxiety.
Clara is so beautiful, congratulations on her first year and good luck with the many more to come.
Leslie says
Thank you for sharing your story. You’ve been through so much, and are so very lucky to have such a wonderfully healthy little girl.
Diana says
What a story! God really has blessed you and your family. I’m glad it has such a happy ending!