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.
Kate says
Argh I always avoid birth stories as I’m petrified of giving birth (yet to happen!) but read this one and can’t believe how lucky you all are. I’m so glad it worked out so beautifully for you all and wish you the best for the future!
Erin Wiebold says
I cried at work, thanks for sharing! Not a mother yet but someday!
Michelle says
My husband and I made the choice to not have children. I have never been a “kid” person, or felt any sort of emotions to children or children related stories (I know! So horrible! I think my heart may have frozen solid!!!) But I can honestly say that I have tears in my eyes. Your story is amazing. It really touched my non kid loving heart :)
Thank you so much for sharing.
Holly says
Thanks for sharing such a powerful story!
essie says
Wow – thank you for sharing your story. It definitely made me cry, and I’m really glad that you are all happy and healthy!
Jami says
Thank you for sharing this! It could very well be my crazy emotional pregnancy that caused me to cry while reading this or just the sweet story! I’m glad everything turned out alright, she’s adorable and such a blessing!
Kathy says
John and Sherry,
Thank you for sharing your story. I can’t imagine all you both went through that day. But what an adorable little girl you have. God has definitely got great plans for all of you.
monica says
So glad both you and Clara made it though that unpredictable and scary complication! She seems to be so full of life and personality– she really is a remarkable child! Best wishes for your upcoming future pregnancies, we will think of you and pray for you.
SuchAGoodEgg says
I am a long-time reader, first time commenter. I just gave birth to twins 5 weeks ago….my pregnancy was fraught with anxiety and high risk-ness. When our babies came out (in less than 3 hours from water breaking to birth, ahhhh!) perfect and healthy, it was the greatest RELIEF and HAPPINESS of my entire life. I still shake thinking back on it. And I remember how incredibly lucky I am every time I snuggle our sweet little babies. Reading your words took me back the enormous miraculous-ness of seeing them healthy and happy for the very first time. You are so brave and awesome for sharing your terrifying and emotional and beautiful story—and reminding all of your readers what a MIRACLE a healthy baby is, because I think it gets taken for granted sometimes!!!
Also, I adore your blog, keep up the awesome work!!!!!!!! xoxo
LauraC says
Wow, I’ve been thinking of you all day. I’m so very, very thankful that you and John and Clara were spared a tragedy. I had complications during my first pregnancy, so I understand the fear that comes suddenly. But like many others said, my second pregnancy was uncomplicated, and I’m so thankful for my two healthy, happy children. I don’t know what you believe about God, but I believe every good thing comes from him, and Clara is such a blessing!
Alisa says
i cried so much. thanks for sharing. it’s why i can’t stop reading your blog.
Jodi says
What a story. Any wonder you are still getting over it. As for stressing if/when you have another child, try not to. My sister-in-law suffered a form of a stroke at 36 weeks and had to have an emergency c-section followed by brain surgery and 7 weeks in rehab. She is on epilepsy meds amongst other for the rest of her life and has various problems that will never get better. If her husband had not been home they both would not be with us today. However, 3 years later she gave birth to a boy, and they are both 100% fine. She was monitered carefully as the meds she is on can cause genetic defects, and the pressure of pregnancy can cause the vein in her brain to re-rupture. So, while you will no doubt feel worried while pregnant (and we all do whether it is 1st, 2nd etc) just remember, it may have happened once, but it may never happen again. We can’t stress about what might be, we have to focus on the right now and listen to our body and instincts.
tia says
Thank you so much for sharing your story. I kept thinking about how often you mention the children you will have and I’m amazed by your strength. Obviously Clara gets that from you. I tried to go through my pregnancy with hope instead of expectations but it’s impossible isn’t it? especially if you have “What to expect when you’re expecting” on the night stand…
Samantha says
Usually when I email you two it’s about ceramic items or deals at HomeGoods but this time around, it is about so much more.
I was so absolutely touched by your story, it resonated with me in a way that I didn’t know was possible being that I am not yet a mother. The way you describe all of the emotions of Clara’s birthday are so raw and beautiful, I can only imagine the strength that it took to write them all down. Thank you for opening your heart to us.
You and John are such an incredible couple that provide each other amazing balance, even in times of chaos. I know that, without a doubt, you two will be able to tackle whatever comes next for you!
Lots of love.
kellie larsen says
I was bawling through the whole post! Whatever it takes! I totally agree. What a miraculous experience.
Ali says
You were both so brave! Wow. Thanks for sharing your story. So glad things worked out so well. x
Nancy says
Your story really touched my heart. I totally understand your point about not being happy go lucky the second time around. I have had two miscarriages, and I just know that the next time I do get pregnant, I will worry myself sick that it will happen again. However, we are so lucky to live in this day and age where the medical field is high tech, I am so grateful for what doctors can do. Thanks for sharing your story.
Shirah says
I’m 5 months preggo as I read this post, so of course I was snort-crying all the way through! I’m so grateful to you for sharing, and I’m so thankful that you got your happy ending!
Erin @ Fierce Beagle says
Oh my goodness. So much for YHL being a “drama-free zone”!
When I was pregnant with my son, I remember seeing one of those terrible/addictive TLC shows about babies in which a mom was suffering from a condition called cholestasis: she itched all over her body all the time, was at risk for hepatitis, and the baby had to be induced at 37 weeks because the condition is highly dangerous after that point. “That’s so awful, I can’t imagine being her,” I thought. Famous last words.
I was diagnosed with cholestasis, inexplicably, at 30 weeks. The palms of my hands and soles of my feet began to feel itchy, and scratching only made it worse. When I called my ob-gyn’s office and told them about the itchiness, they had me come in immediately. I had to have twice-weekly fetal monitoring to make sure he wasn’t in distress, I had to take two kinds of medication just to control the condition (which occurs when your liver stops processing bile acids and the acids then leak into your bloodstream and settle in your skin), and deal with tortuous, round-the-clock itching.
I am so fortunate that my boy was born healthy (after a 27-hour induced labor and an initial apgar of 4) and that I returned to full health a few months later. But the worry of it happening again has loomed like a cloud, and has contributed to us waiting so long between kids.
What you guys went through is horrific, and I can completely understand your fear. But I also commend you for remaining so positive and grateful for your good fortune. Know that you’ve got thousands upon thousands of people rooting for your wonderful little family.
Carla says
Tissue please!!! You poor dears…I can see why you waited to write about it. Clara is a little miracle!!
Ashley @ According to Ashley says
Wow! Thank you so much for sharing your story. I’m so glad that beautiful little lady turned out to be perfectly healthy! :)
Lisa Johnson says
Thank you for sharing your story. My first baby girl (also born May 14th! But nearly 19 years ago) had a traumatic delivery, but what a joy she is now.
To encourage you, my best friend had a placenta abruptia but went on to have 2 more successful deliveries without any problems. Enjoy the little Bean’s upcoming birthday!
Lacey says
Wowsers. I always wondered why you didn’t share the birth story, seeing as you share so many other things about your lives. It all makes sense now.
Speaking as someone who just gave birth to her own precious baby girl, I can now imagine just how scary and heartbreaking that whole ordeal would have been. Clara is such a blessing from God! Man!
I had a natural child birth and was in shock for a few months afterwards, so I think you’re amazing to be sharing this just a year on — you are amazing parents! Love that little girl with all you’ve got :-)
Sarah says
I think we are so used to things turning out well when we follow all the steps and do everything right, yet giving birth is an experience like no other.
My first son died the day after birth in the NICU, so not all dramatic stories end so happily. And yet I did have a happy pregnancy and the happiness of seeing him, even if he was very sick.
My next pregnancies were definitely not worry-free, but I still tried to enjoy them. I do have 4 healthy children now. But I will never forget the trauma and love from the little boy who first made me a mother.
As a Type A achiever person, I think it was my life lesson to learn that I can’t control everything. And I am grateful for my smooth, drama and drug free births and even more for my healthy children.
YoungHouseLove says
I’m so sorry for your loss Sarah.
xo,
s
Marie says
Thank you so much for sharing your story! I come from a big family and nearly everyone has had an easy time getting pregnant (sometimes it’s been too easy…), and fairly easy pregnancies. One sister had a very traumatic premature birth at 28wks (issues were a genetic issue the baby had–not pregnancy issues per se). I think it is so important to share birth stories. My husband have been married for almost a year and plan to have our first child in the next 2-3 years (I’ll be 29-30!) and I drive my husband crazy with my “plan B’s”. I appreciate hearing stories of infertile couples, couples who have adopted, gone through fertility treatments, those who have had the most traumatic events, traumatic events with happy endings, people who get pregnant easily, people who have their babies in the car, etc. It’s all part of the human experience and helps us realize that although no one has been in our exact shoes, no matter what situation we face, we’re not alone and that life can and does move on (whether we want it to or not!). I take comfort in knowing that even if everything doesn’t go according to my plan, there is another plan and it will all work out! Thanks for sharing such a personal story, I know it could be rather easy to just keep it nice and light (painting, building furniture, etc.). P.S. As Clara reaches her 1st year milestone, I’m not sure if Clara still fits into her infant car seat–be sure to check out the new American Academy of Pediatrics guidelines for car seats http://preview.tinyurl.com/49shd32 Also, a great online resource (for good advice from car seat techs as well as how to find the best deals on the best car seats is http://www.car-seat.org they also have a blog: http://www.carseatblog.com). I also happen to be a car seat tech and would be willing to respond to a private email if you happen to have any questions (although I’m pretty sure you’re “up” on that stuff–but always good to check!).
YoungHouseLove says
Aw thanks Marie! John’s sister Emily teaches the car seat class at the hospital so she is amazing about keeping us posted but I’m sure those links you shared will come in handy for other readers!
xo,
s
Joi says
Wow. What a blessing to have everything turn out ok. Little Clara’s a fighter and so are you, Sherry. Thanks for sharing. I am more familiar with the words “placental abruption” than I would like to be because one of my dear friends experienced one earlier this year with a terrible outcome. I hope one day she can find the strength to try again. Thanks for hope!
melissa says
I am crying…what a scary and beautiful story. You are so strong and so brave. Clara is lucky to have such amazing parents!
Sarah says
I read your blog almost every day but rarely post, but your story really moved me. You are so brave for writing this, and I truly hope it helps you process the day and your feelings around it. I’m a nurse (although not in L&D) and when I first your brief rundown of Clara’s birth complications I knew what a crappy, back-luck combo that was and how bad it could have been for both of you. I’m so glad you had a happy ending, and Clara is so adorable!
Don’t beat yourself up about the ambivalence and fears for future pregnancies/births. Allow yourself to feel what you need to feel. And I’m glad to hear your doctor is having you give your body a good break before going for another bean, sounds like that will be healing for you both physically and emotionally. Thanks again for sharing such a personal part of your lives!
Danette from Oz says
*GROUP HUG*
(you guys are amazing and I hope this helps with the healing process? I think a mother after childbirth is like a soldier after war, everyone has their story to tell and eventually when they feel ready, they need to tell it. Well done Sherry, it takes courage!)
Rochelle says
I don’t even know you all, but I am sending major love and hugs to you. WOW! Exhale…
Alison says
Thanks for sharing this. I had a scary delivery with my first, and I can relate to everything you say here about your fears and joys.
Congratulations on beautiful Clara!
Amanda says
WOW! That’s an amazing story! It was hard to read through the lump in my throat and tears in my eyes (even knowing that it has a happy ending!) but I love your open, honest look at the day. Thanks so much for sharing!
My daughter will also be a year old in 6 weeks and I have not written her birth story yet either. Our story is not nearly as scary as yours, but it didn’t go the way I had “planned” and I’ve had to do some processing as well. You’ve inspired me to write it sometime in the next 6 weeks before her birthday.
I’m so glad that everything turned out so perfect for you and Clara. You all are so blessed!!!!
Jenn from The Mustard Seed Blog says
Wow, what a terrifying experience. I am so very grateful that both you and Clara were cared for in the best possible way on her birthday. I will be doing a little happy dance for you in a couple of weeks as you celebrate the one year mark!
Elise says
Thanks for sharing, Sherry. What a touching story.
Just wanted to share a related movie trailer I found today on dooce.com about pregnancy complications:
YoungHouseLove says
Thanks for the link! That film looks heartbreaking but important. What an amazing mission Christy Turlington has taken on.
xo,
s
Dominique Teall says
Sherry,
Thank you so much for sharing..I am just a week away from my due date and couldn’t imagine going through what you did. My mom had the exact same thing happen when she had my youngest brother. It still 17 years later gives me chills and brings tears to my eyes remembering the doctors explain just how lucky they both were and how it was a matter of seconds between life and death. She described it as a car accident minus the car. One second everything was normal the next her enitre world was upside down and her life and her babies was hanging by a thread.
Being able to write about something as personal and traumatic as this takes a lot of courage.
It took me a year to write about being diagnosised with cancer and the battle it took to beat it. Every time I sat down to write about it any earlier just brought every emotion back like a title wave.
Clara is one lucky little lady to have such a strong, brave mommy to bring her into this world!
Dominique
lovelifeandpugs.wordpress.com
Lily says
Oh dear, what an upsetting day that must have been. I can’t imagine how scary that would be. Glad you are both well and hope that you will have the emotional healing you need to enjoying your next pregnancy. EMDR is really good for PTSD/anxiety/panic, you might think of finding a practitioner who could help you process the trauma of the event so it isn’t trapped in your body. I have used it before for panic attacks and it was really helpful (even when nothing else was working, and trust me i tried everything else!). There are also a ton of really supportive tweeps who can help. @ me and i can help u find the great ones. @gardenbirthmama
Good luck!!
VickiP says
Dear Sherry(and John), Thank you so much for sharing your story. My first was born prematurely at 32 weeks and the delivery was rough enough on me that it took two days before I was able to meet him in the NICU. Today, I am 32 weeks pregnant with my second, and I read this. Talk about tears. I hope that all the healing words you are receiving from others are as helpful as your words are for other expectant mamas out there. The next pregnancy is a high alert head game, but you have amazing support from each other, and you will be armed with experience and knowledge to guide you. And you will have these words you have written to reflect upon to help you work through the emotions as needed. I know they helped me today, so thanks so much for your continued inspiration. I thought that the sewing machine post proved you are human, but sharing this story took some Super-Human strength. Best wishes to your stellar family.
colleen says
well, i hope there are no typos in this comment because i won’t be able to notice them since i am still crying my eyeballs out. YOU THREE are amazing! i forget how i originally came across YHL, but with every new post i sure am glad i did. sherry, here you offer a new level of inspiration. thank you for sharing.
PS and i just love that Clara is still pretty much a cue ball, probably because i did not have hair until i was almost 2 years old. and then i sprouted a mass of unruly curls.
Kelly says
Thank you so much for being so transparent on a blog that so many people read. WOW! I knew Clara was special…what a joy it is to see that smile! I just had no idea how special! I appreciate your openness and honesty, it makes me love this blog even more :)
laurie f says
You are so brave…much braver than I! Hence, my decision to enjoy one child for the rest of our lives! :)
tiffany says
thanks for sharing, sherry. so glad your birth story has a happy ending :)
Anna says
I’m an OB (still in training) and I wanted to thank you for sharing your story. I’m sure you’ll help many women who unfortunately experience a birth that doesn’t go according to plan. Emergencies like yours are scary for your doctors as well. We also hold our breaths waiting for that first cry. This post helped me imagine what’s going on your side of the curtain just a little bit better. Thank you.
Ashley says
What a horrifying but incredible birth story. Clara is a little fighter and so are you! I remember obsessing so much before my son’s birth over what kind of “birth plan” to have and this just puts it all in perspective that nature is boss and there are some things you can’t plan. What matters is that you and Clara made it and you have your whole lives to enjoy each other now! Thanks for sharing this, I had to pull out the kleenex.
Heather Jo says
Sherry,
What an amazing and frightening and beautiful story. You and John are so lucky. My mother actually had the same thing, although she was not as fortunate and lost the baby. It was devastating for her, as it wa her first child and she was full term. Count your blessings!
Sbe says
Thanks for sharing this story.
I am due May 1 and every day for about two weeks I have been fuming and terrified about the idea of labor. Your story took all that away. I realize now what is most important is a healthy baby and a healthy mommy, and however she gets here is so secondary. Thanks again
S
Sydney says
I commend you for taking the time and the emotional energy to write this post. You have so many readers and I’m sure there are hundreds if not thousands who were not aware of what a placental abruption is, what the signs of it are, and how serious it can be. My daughter, Claire, was born premature last October and passed away shortly after. I am a walking encyclopedia of information about what went wrong and how to *hopefully* fix it, but it is still very uncommon for people to be so open about pregnancy fears and complications. I believe that an open dialogue helps educate and what is a more important topic than bringing our babies safely into this world? I know several other Mom’s have posted about having come to home to a nursery with no baby, it is a terrible reminder of the loss. Subsequent pregnancies are always scary but one thing I have learned is that a child, no matter how young or small they are when they enter this world, and no matter how much time they spend with us, is deserving of all the affection, celebration, preparing and decorating that we do before, and after, they arrive. When I get pregnant again, my goal is to to be deliriously happy, shout it from the roof tops and get working on another nursery ASAP! :) Because no matter what happens, the work and love that you put into it is worth it. My daughter’s completed nursery is an ever present reminder that she is a part of us and I cherish it every day. The fear and anxiety are unavoidable but smiles and optimism are stronger. Thank you for the post!
YoungHouseLove says
You are amazing Sydney. I need to take a page out of your book. I’m so sorry for your loss and cheering you on for a healthy and happy pregnancy soon!
xo,
s
Rachel says
Wow. Thank you so much for sharing your story; I know how hard it must have been to write it.
I made myself read this entire post, even though it was very hard for me(I lost my bean at 3 months)to read it. The insane fear, the soundless screaming, the blurriness of it all…you captured it all so well.
PS-I feel the exact same way as you, in that I know I will never be able to allow myself to have those happy pregnancy feelings again(high alert is putting it mildly for what I’ll be like, I know it)….but my experience was just so very heartbreaking, I don’t think I could help it.
That said though, I am not going to let this stop me from trying again! If nothing else, my experience only reinforced how important it is to me, and how much I want a child (or three, ha ha).
I’m glad to hear that you won’t let your experience stop you either. You are truly an inspiration.
Ashley says
i doubt you read all your comments, but as the mom of 3 scary-complications-birth stories I was bawling along with yours…
I’m so glad you have your miracle, and take the time you need.
kelly ann says
thank you so much for sharing. blogs are such funny birds, because you really wind up feeling like you know a whole person through the internet. you guys are such great people, so obviously loving and supportive to one another. i hate thinking of either of you scared and unsure of anything. so glad your story ended with a healthy, happy and GORGEOUS baby. experiences like that just wind up making you extremely aware of how precious life is.
not to be creepy, but i love you guys.
Skye says
Wow, that is an amazing story. I only started reading your blog after stumbling upon it about six months ago and have always liked that we have babies the same age (my Grace turns one on May 18), along with all the fun home reno stuff.
My birth was much different to yours though and I can understand how it must have been difficult for you to process the whole experience. It’s so lovely to see that your little girl is healthy and beautiful with no signs of the journey she went through to make it into the world.
I hope you do get pregnant again one day and the whole experience is much more carefree for you and John.