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.
Jess says
WOW! i had no idea. how strong you are! praise the Lord that you and Clara are ok – she really IS a miracle!!!
Kristina says
I’m a puddle of tears after reading your story!
I honestly had to stop and pause in the middle, even though I knew everything ended well. (Duh to me!) Either way, Sherry you are a lucky lady and have such a cutie, but I know you know that already.
And happy early birthday, Clara!
Nikki says
Thank you so much for sharing. What a strong woman you are! God has truely blessed you and your family.
Shay says
I read this blog almost every day but I’m not
really a commenter – but this post drove me
to tears. What a darling baby you have; I was
so touched to read this. Thanks for sharing.
Maurisha says
Sherry and John,
Thank you so much for sharing. I appreciate your strength in telling your story. I have a four month old and my pregnancy was not easy, but thank God she is healthy and beautiful.
I am wishing Clara a wonderfully happy birthday in advance! Love you guys:-)
Rachel Z. says
Thank you so much for sharing this story! I was crying while reading it..what a scary time for you both! So glad everything went okay in the end and Clara is happy and healthy!
Michelle says
So glad there was a happy ending to this story! I had a placenta abruption at 34 weeks with my first and it was utterly terrifying. I could relate to so much of what you wrote. I also had to have an emergency c-section (put completely under) and a blood transfusion. I remember the doc on the phone concerned that they didn’t have my blood type (A-) and I was thinking “seriously?? Just get the O blood and get on with it!!).
Your little girl is beautiful and a gift! You will have a wonderful story to tell her of how special she was because she beat the odds and make quite the entrance into the world!
Kayla @ Exquisite Banana says
A big cozy bear hug to John, your sweet baby girl and you, mama!
Sewview says
I have been so impressed by the wonderful outpouring of support to you guys. Not only do you have an excellent blog, but you have an amazing group of readers.
I, as all your readers, am very pleased your story ended well and truly happily.
YoungHouseLove says
Agreed.
Best. Readers. Ever.
xoxoxoxox,
s (& j)
Alissa says
What a miracle Clara is!! We have our own miracle, and it really does change you forever.
I’m so happy that you will be celebrating a whole year with your beautiful daughter soon.
Christina says
Sherry and john, this had me crying and holding my breath as I my eyes couldn’t read fast enough. I scrolled back to the top of the post and saw that picture of your sweet baby girl and cried even more. my husband and i don’t have children, but as a woman your experience terrified me then filled me with joy. I remember following the blog last year and getting so eager for you to post the news of clara’s birth! I appreciate you sharing this story with all of us, and I respect you even more for waiting until the perfect moment to post this. you both are just a few years older than my husband and I, and as a newly married couple we look at your special family with admiration. I wish baby Clara such a happy first birthday come may!
Teresa says
Thanks for sharing your story. I am a NICU nurse and have attended more than my share of scary deliveries. I am so glad that yours was such a happy ending. Even though I have attended so many deliveries that first cry still takes my breath away and it always seems like it takes ages to come. I only wish that they would have stationed a nurse by you and John so that they could be relaying what was going on and Clara’s progress to you. It makes it so much better and less scary than just watching the frenzied activity! Congrats on your sweet sweet baby!
Megan says
Oh, and just to break up the sadness, I have to say that you looked totally awesome pregnant. You were all belly and were rocking it. :)
YoungHouseLove says
That’s sweet of you to say. I always admit that the bad swollen pics don’t get shown so it’s more like good editing than good looks in the prego department. Haha. I puffed up like a blowfish at the end!
xo,
s
Jen says
I am the worst typest ever – I have a laptop that does not want to work with me! I have tried to write my terrifying story twice and it disappeared – my almost 15 year old son said, “It’s OK mom, as bad as your story is I’m here, let me help you.” Yeah, 14, scary birth,covered in poop,and he’s the best. I have a song for him, forgive the goofiness – Jordan Jeff-ery Bottini – came to us on Halloweeny – covered in something really greeny – looking llike a big string beany… we never finished the song but went on to have another child. A beautiful girl who turned 11 on Saturday! I was scared for sure to do it again and I’m not sure why I did. There was no pressure from family, she wasn’t a surprise, it just felt right. She did not come without complication, but with your OB and you knowing the possibilities, just give it time! My boy and girl are 4 years apart and it’s all good. Just do what’s right for you! Thanks for sharing, I like you all the more, and best wishes for your future!
D says
Thanks for sharing your story, Sherry! So glad that everything turned out the way it should.
Kathy says
Wow–!! You just made 1636 people cry, me included. And we all just assumed that your first baby was smooth sailing. SO good to know that Clara is perfect… and you WILL have more perfect babies. Happy 1st birthday, little Clara!
Maya says
Wow, this is amazing! Thanks for sharing, you are so extremely lucky. Just another interesting tidbit, my aunt is getting married on the 14th so that will be their wedding anniversary! Again, you are so incredibly brave to have gone through this and then also post this personal experience for anyone to read.
Heather79 says
Sherry, I’ve rarely commented on posts but am an avid reader of y’all’s blog. I’ve been excited to watch little Clara grow and thrive– my son is about six months older than she is. I completely understand how traumatic and potentially shattering a birth experience like that is, and you are incredibly strong to share it with the world. I can only hope that it helped your healing process. I was in tears! The world is indeed lucky to have your family in it!
Monika says
What an incredible story. It’s extremely brave of you to share such intimate details of Clara’s birth story with all your supporters and the entire internet. You are an incredibly strong family and survived such a challenging time. My heart goes out to you. I wish you all the best as you celebrate the first year of your beautiful, blessed baby girl. <3
Jen @ RamblingRenovators says
Sherry,
Thanks so much for sharing your story. I can only imagine what a journey its been for you, to travel from that day to the point where you can step back, reflect, remember, and finally rejoice.
As a mom too, I know one thing for sure: we are never guaranteed our babies, no matter how much we want them. I too had complications in pregnancy and also had a miscarriage and both those experiences have made me a bit like you, a little less happy go lucky about the whole thing. But they also made me realize that I was so very lucky to have experienced the miracle of birth even once. How lucky we are to have precious little ones to hold and hold us back!
Just before I gave birth, my boss said to me that “Once you become a mom, you never stop being afraid”. At the time I thought it was a bit mean, but Its true isn’t it? We moms worry, even before the babes are born. Its comes with the territory. Its a fear though that just makes you love your baby deeper, relish every moment more, hug her a little tighter, and kiss her more often. It is all so so worth it, right? So worth it.
That Clara is a miracle. You have a beautiful family. Sending you hugs and wishing you congratulations on making it through the first year. What a milestone!
xoxo
Jennifer
Lauren says
So brave of you to share this with the world, Sherry!! I remember seeing you reply to a few comments after Clara was born where you shared a little bit of what happened. But, reading the entire story brought tears to my eyes for you, Clara and John. Reading your blog every day, I feel like I know you (at least a little since you let us all into your house every day!), and it’s terrifying to think of this happening to someone you know! Hug that sweet baby girl extra tight on her birthday, and I’m sending up a few extra prayers for your healing and a safe future pregnancy!
Lessons in Life and Light says
I don’t normally comment very often (you guys always have so many comments!) but I felt compelled to comment today.
First of all, thank you for sharing your story. Not everyone gets the “story” they hope for, but most of us do our best. I’m currently expecting my first baby in about 8 weeks and am hoping for a natural birth in a birth center. I’m actually using something called Hypnobabies. While Hypnobabies is definitely all about natural birth, they’re really big on just being educated on your choices and remaining calm throughout the process. When you guys are ready to continue expanding your family, it might be something for you to look into to help you stay relaxed and to help you deal with your fears. You could even use it at a hospital AND if you had a repeat c-section.
I wrote a lot about my experience so far with Hypnobabies. You can find those posts here:
http://lessonsinlifeandlight.wordpress.com/hypnobabies/
Your birth story, although not your ideal, is still so unique and special!
Sigrid says
I also used Hypnobabies (not hypnobirthing) and had a FABULOUS natural VBAC 10 months ago. Loved it. Not only does it help relax you and make labor more comfortable, but it helps to alleviate fears and to let go of anxiety regarding pregnancy and birth (which was so great for me- I had a scary emergency c/s with my first).
HIGHLY recommend it to anyone- even if you just have a repeat c/s, it will help you enjoy your pregnancy through deep relaxation and positive affirmations. It’s great!
Thanks for sharing your story! Thank God for his protection and mercy over your family!
Candice says
I was reading this while I was pumping in my car and I just let the tears fall! After my first daughter, i couldn’t even watched Knocked Up without becoming angry and shedding tears-I was mourning the birth I had prepped for, one that included a more peaceful delivery. With my second I tried for a VBAC-but similar issues led to me to CHOOSE the c-section.
Having the choice versus having it made for you under trying circumstances made all the difference for me. We gave her the middle name Grace because she allowed me to try and to heal from the trauma of my first labor. She granted us “unmerited favor”.
Anyway, I felt compelled to comment, if only to say-you are not alone. :)
Shannon says
If I was an actress that needed to cry on cue, I’d just picture John standing in the hallway. I read this post 12 hours ago and cried a lot and keep getting teary imagining him by himself worrying about his girls.
Raanan says
Time and Faith indeed heals the wound. The relationship your family shares is so very unique. Clara will continue to grow in strength and beauty everyday…Thanks to you Sherry and John for being real-life, down-to-earth honest role models! Thank you for the inspiration!!!
Cristina says
I’m a NICU nurse and just want to say thank you for your candid perspective. How scary for you and how wonderful that everything turned out the way it did. Kudos to an amazing team at that hospital.
Jill says
John and Sherry,
I’m so happy that something so beautiful came out of this intensely scary situation. Clara is a doll and I’m so glad your story had a happy ending. I cried during the first part and actually got chills during the part where Sherry mentioned having chills. I wish you all health and happiness in the future, and I’m so excited to hear your lives every step of the way :)
xo,
Jill
Kathi says
Wow! I had a feeling for some reason, that there was some kind of story behind her birth. And then look at that little face of hers! She is such a blessing. :)
Fiona @ Jackadaw says
I’m glad you can talk about it without crying Sherry, I certainly cried reading it … twice. My little girl, Kate, is about three months younger than your Clara so I’ve enjoyed the little peaks at her progress. She woke up half way through reading your story so I wiped up my tears, blew my nose and went to get her. As usual she wasn’t really ready to be awake so I snuggled up with her in the chair and let her sleep some more while I just looked at her, thought about what you had gone through and experienced a renewed amazement at the miracle of all life, but in the life of my little miracle in particular. I hope that sharing has helped you all to come to terms with what has happened and what may happen next time. In your situation, I’d be petrified next time round as well, but I would try to stay calm and happy as it’s my stong belief that a high level of anxiety during pregnancy can create an anxious baby. So next time round, embrace the fear, let it keep you sharp for any signs of trouble, but also try and enjoy the experience and stay as cool and calm as you can.
Jill says
i adore your site and try to read daily. your clara birth story is so moving! i’m up super late (3 little ones to tend to in the am!) but HAD to check in on your blog. you guys are awesomely wonderful people. i’m so glad for you that you have your baby girl sweet safe and sound.
i often wish i knew you personally to help me with my deficient interior design sense but moreso wish i knew you as friends to hang out with! weird that we all “know” you but you don’t know us…alas i’m miles and miles away in wny :( you should know if you don’t hear it enough that you ROCK!
oh–and you inspired me to take weekly pix of my little guy on fabric swatches. he’s an active fritter so it’s getting tricky. wish i thought of this for my 2 girls!! you have great ideas.
Amanda Gray says
Before you get pregnant, you don’t realize just how lucky you are to get a healthy baby. You think, “How can anything go wrong now when medical care has gotten so much better?”
My son’s birth was the most terrifying day of my life. There is nothing like hearing, “If we don’t get this baby out, he is going to die.” And then, not seeing him for a full 24 hours after his birth because he was taken to the NICU at the local children’s hospital.
I am so thankful every day that everything turned out okay, and grateful that his residual problems are nothing compared to the alternative.
Cherish your baby (as we all know you do), and relax during your next pregnancy. Your doctors will give you the best care and will be able to help you much sooner because they will be watching so closely (as I type this, I laugh because I know that I would be completely nuts!!!).
Sara says
Wow, I too am amazing at your story. I am a maternity nurse and have never heard of both a cord prolapse and placental abruption at the same time. You and Clara are very lucky, but it just goes to show you that medicine only goes so far and then there is God, and that Clara and you are both here for a reason. Honestly, your blog alone inspires thousands of people everyday..thanks again for all you do, and congrats on your beautiful 1 yr old!!!
Laura says
Thanks for sharing your story to your blog family. My best friend went through a similar scary delivery in December and I remember how hard it was to grasp all those feelings running through my mind (and I was only the bystander). Ya’ll deserve all the best! Happy Early Birthday Clara!
BlairBerry says
Incredible and powerful story. Thanks for being so brave as to share it with the world. You guys are such a lovely family, and I’m so glad that your nightmare had a safe and happy ending. The emotional vulnerabilities that come with having babies are so often forgotten, and reading about your “what if” fears broke my heart — my daughter is 6 weeks older than Clara and we had a low fluid/c-section experience that culminated in a similar panicked delivery. Lucy didn’t cry for what seemed like an eternity and I had the exact same thoughts and internal screams going on. Thank you, again, for sharing the story. And judging by the comment section on this post I’m guessing you’ll have a TON of moral support from everyone here in the interwebs when you get ready for baby number 2 and the emotional roller coaster that will likely come along. But, honestly, you have so much love for your family that it is pretty clear you’ll have as many babies as you want and they will all be healthy and happy and will grow to contribute many blessings to the world, just as their parents do.
Julia says
I’m so moved by Clara’s birth story. It put me in a state of shock for everything that you guys went through. Thank you for sharing the story. You have an amazing daughter!
Jenn P says
Last July 28th, I gave birth to 24 week, 1 lb 3 oz identical twin girls. I was diagnosed with twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome (another one of those ‘one in a million’ things) that day and was sent home to pack for a flight to Cincinnati for emergency surgery, assured that I was at no risk for pre-term labor. 6 hours later, I was in full blown labor, vomiting out the car window on my way back to the very same hospital that I had been discharged from that afternoon. My beautiful girls were delivered at 4:57 and 4:58 am via emergency c-section and whisked off to the NICU.
One of our babies passed away in our arms on July 30th, and we brought the other one home (healthy) on November 3rd… 2 weeks before her original due date. Pregnancy is a scary thing. 90-some percent of the time, things are just wonderful, but it takes a real scare to teach you just how lucky you are for a healthy child. Thanks for sharing your story!
YoungHouseLove says
Oh Jenn I am so sorry for your loss. I can’t even imagine what that was like but I’m so thankful that you shared your story and for your daughter’s survival.
xo,
s
Gloria says
I think you are amazing to be able to write about this so well. The love comes through. Blessings to your family.
Shannon says
Thank you for sharing your story. What a terrifying experience for your family to go through. I am so glad that you are all happy and healthy now!
Mallory says
This brought tears to my eyes. Sherry, thank you for being brave and posting this…I think this is a great way for you to process and I hope that it has helped. I am so thankful you had great doctors who took care of you and Clara during such a traumatic time. You are wonderful parents with a beautiful daughter who doesn’t seem to know that she came into the world in such a scary way. Being a mom is a scary job, and even scarier when you have no control over your babies life. So glad you get to celebrate Clara’s momentous first year!
Becky says
Thank you guys for sharing. I have been reading and recommending your blog for over a year now, but have never commented on a post. Although I am addicted to your home posts, this one made me cry and was a good reminder of how blessed we were with the healthy birth of our little girl in October.
I must admit that I sometimes (ok, many times)have been envious of your home and jobs and projects you do together, and it seems like you have the ‘perfect’ life. Your heartfelt post was a reminder that we all face different struggles, some more obvious than others. Thanks for the wake-up call.
Margaret says
Sometimes we, as readers, forget that you, John, and Clara are real people with real lives, real problems and not some reality tv-like characters. Today, you so poignantly reminded all of us who follow your blog that you walk among us. You share the same joys and sorrows that we all feel in our lives. God was truly at work in your lives that day. Today, you gave all of us a chance to share a huge part of who you, John and Clara are – a true, loving family! I know that each time I read your blog from now on, it will be with a deeper appreciation of who you really are. Thanks for sharing!
abby says
Sherry,
I do NOT have time to read through all these comments, but I wanted to thank you for sharing this story… I had a miscarriage at the end of last year and I feel like I’m mourning my own chance at a happy-go-lucky pregnancy in the future. I (wrongly) suspected I was pregnant again last month and I burst into tears thinking about how scared I was of losing another baby. Thanks for reminding me that I am not alone in that loss of fresh excitement. We may be more realistic and a little guarded, but I have great hopes that we will both have joyful pregnancies that result in happy, healthy babies in the future.
Best of luck and thanks for sharing! You are strong and brave!
-Abby.
Carrie says
Thank you so much for sharing your story, it had me crying! Crying not only for your true miracle but it reminds me of how far we have come from our traumatic birth story of our own nearly a year ago.
Our daughter, Gabrielle was born on May 11, 2010 at 24 weeks gestation. She weighed only 1 pound and was 10.25 inches at birth. I developed severe preeclampsia (or high blood pressure and high amounts protein in urine) while I was on vacation in Florida (about 1500 miles from my home near Detroit). I was so critical but they held me off from delivering for two weeks before the doctors were forced to take her for my sake and hers. Her chances of survival at birth was less than 50%. I can’t even begin to describe the fear and hopelessness that both me and my boyfriend felt. It was probably even worse for him because there was a chance he could loose both of us. It was the scariest thing that has ever happened to us and the happiest.
I could go on with a short novel with how it all went down for us but I will sum it up in a few sentences. Gabrielle spent everyday of her life in a hospital until she was strong enough to come home in December. We endured her being on a ventilator for 10 weeks, not being able to hold her until she was off, needing CPR, a few surgeries, being transferred to Detroit, needing to go back on a ventilator, learning how to basically become NICU nurses at home to be able to care for her and learning to love every minute!
No doubt, our story is a huge extreme and I am not comparing at all but it does humble you. I felt the same as you on a couple of occasions and feel the same today, thankful for our little miracle! It is amazing what we have gone through and over come in the past year but it is all worth it. Our daughter is now 15 pounds and thriving at home. She is still on a ventilator because of her bad lungs and goes to a lot of doctors to stay on top of everything but someday she will out grow all of it and be like most other kids her age. As hard as it has all been I wouldn’t change a thing because we are sooooo lucky to have her and know her survival was never guaranteed. Everyday her smile is more than enough payment and reward for everything we do, we are so proud of our little girl!
I really admire you sharing your story and I hope it helps you heal. I have always had to find different ways to do my healing but the thing that works the best for me is sharing my story. Peoples kind words were so helpful to me while I was stuck in Florida for nearly 5 months. I love to hear about Clara’s triumphs and cuteness and even though my daughter is a little older, I look to what Clara is doing to see what I get to look forward to once Gabrielle catches up with being about 4 months behind. Love, love, love your blog and even follow you guys on baby center! Keep up the great work! <3
Best wishes,
Carrie
YoungHouseLove says
Wow- what an incredibly hard road. I’m so glad your little miracle girl is doing well!
xo,
s
vanessa says
Oh,Oh,Oh! I’m so glad everything worked out but all I want to do is wrap you guys in hugs right now. Sherry, I don’t know if it would help you with your well founded fear, but I used hypnobabies during my first pregnancy and a lot of their fear clearing stuff is very helpful to me, even well after my birth. I used it before asking for a raise and before dental procedures. Everybody has to figure out their best way to heal, but just in case it might help…
Mary says
You will be blessed many times over for sharing your story. Clara will surely feel very special when she is old enough to know the story of her miracle. God is in control!!
katy says
wow; I always wondered when we would get to hear this story. I can see why it took so long to share….what an emotional ride. Thank God you and Clara made it through that unscathed. Blessings to your family; you guys are amazing.
Holly says
Wow! I thought about your story all day and I still can’t imagine what you have been through. Just so glad the story has a happy middle (with a happy ending yet to come!) If ever there was a slogan for your wall…”and they lived happily ever after!”
I do hope that discussing your story really does help both of you heal and live happily ever after. You two deserve it!!
Destiny says
I always comment, on a Baby Clara post or picture, about just how cute she is, but having read this story, I just think she’s amazingly cute. So, so happy and perfectly perfect.
My boy came to me hard too, and while it was traumatic and life changing, I’ve always accepted that perhaps it happened in part so that I would never take him for granted. In the frustrating parenting moments I think, “Stop yourself. This is the child you prayed for. This is the child you wished, hoped and dreamed for.”
My miracle is eighteen now and I still feel eternally blessed to be his mom and while I wish his entrance to the world, his birth story, had been different, I am incredibly grateful he is here and mine…
Thank you for sharing.
Lida Mathews says
Wow – what a story – no wonder you have waited so long to tell it – my mom had some complications when she had my brother 14 years ago – it has me petrified of child birth. So glad you and Clara are ok- well not really ok – AMAZING! So glad!
Praying that next time…you actually HIT the lottery…and not have that 1 in a million chance with a scare like that!
Love your blog!! :)
Kenny & Lida
Gina says
Wow, I asked my husband mute the tv as I read this all…he was so confused…”I thought that was a design blog,” he said as he grudgingly turned down the basket ball game…then he looked at my face. I told his I was reading about another woman having a placental abruption…he immediately understood.
I experienced a placental abruption too after a serious car accident when I was 37 weeks pregnant with our second son. He’s 18 months old now, but that day still haunts me. I can completely understand your reluctance to sharing such an emotional journey with strangers, but I think you shared it when you were ready, and it will definitely be another step in the healing process. I must admit, the day-of her birthday will be hard…you’ll look at the clock and remember where you where and what you were feeling at specific moments…but you’ll be surrounded by your little girl’s laughter and many loved ones, and the joyful happy ending will prevail. Time truly heals all wounds and with each passing day that Clara grows and thrives, I pray that you both are able to look back more easily to her arrival and focus on the joy that day brought despite the trauma.