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.
Rebecca says
Although I always feel like I’m checking in with friends here, I do understand that I don’t actually know you guys. Still, the more I read, the more I’m just amazed by both of you. You seem like such wonderful and genuine people, and the outlook you have on life is really inspiring. As much as you are lucky to have Clara, she is lucky to have both of you, too.
Thanks for being brave enough to share your story. I hope coping with this gets easier for you, from here.
lisa says
i’m a tech in a large pediatric icu, so i see life threatening events more often than i care to say.
i’ve always been on the staffing end of things, so hearing your story is amazing. i can only imagine what it was like for you and john. i was tearing up reading your story, my heart goes out to you… you’re both so strong! enjoy your beautiful baby girl! congrats on 1 year!
Andrea says
Strength and affection to all three of you guys. We had a very scary birth experience with kid #1, an incredibly peaceful, beautiful VBAC with kid #2. #1’s pregnancy was perfect and easy; #2’s was tense and scary. As my grandma would say, go be smart. Happy birthday to your bunny, and to you and your honey for recovering from that terrifying day and making it through!
Kelly Carlson says
I am bawling so hard my little pug has come to console me. Tears and snot and the whole works. Whew! Happy Mother’s Day and Happy Birthday.
Julie B says
Thank you for sharing your story. You had me in tears. My daughter–my first as well–was born right before Clara, so this hits really close to home. So glad that Clara is healthy and strong, with two wonderful parents to boot.
Stefanie says
Thank you so much for sharing your birth story! Every body is different and we can do so much to make everything perfect, and fate, or chance, just likes to mess with us anyway. I can sympathize, as I had some unexpected problems during pregnancy and delivery of my own. You, Clara and John are total troopers. I am so glad it worked out and Clara is as healthy an amazing as she seems. Congratulations to your beautiful family!
Julie says
What an amazing story. It was a lot easier to read knowing what the ending would be. It sounds to me that your preparation and the attitude you came in with helped you both through the day.
Amanda says
Wow Sherry, I had no idea. Takes a lot to share something like that and I can’t imagine what you guys were going through as it was all happening so fast. One of those things that everyone always thinks “it could never happen to me.” What a little miracle beautiful Clara really is and what an eye opener for all of us reading. Makes you really take a step back and think about what is truly important in life.
Shoshanna says
Yikes, this was hard to read — brought back some painful memories, the emotions of which you describe so well. We had such a similar birth experience with our little boy, also completely out of the blue after a trouble-free pregnancy. One second he was out and we were overjoyed; the next second he was whisked off to the NICU (with me praying to no avail to hear him cry before he left), I was whisked off to the OR, and my husband and I were terrified. I have never felt anguish like I felt at that time, and it took me the better part of a year to get (mostly) over it, despite my little man recovering beautifully in a few days, so I think you’re doing great with processing your experience. And it’s not only honest but completely normal to say that you’ll be petrified the next time around. Thanks for writing about this, and thanks to all the other commenters for sharing their experiences, especially those like Jenn who have faced such heartbreaking loss.
Sunnie says
Even if I read your blog daily I rarely write something (this doesn’t mean I don’t adore you, because I do, you guys rock!!)
I decided to write now to let you know what amazing people you are in my opinion! It was such a scary and traumatic story, but in here you kept the mood up posting loving happy pictures and continued writing as nothing happened. You people are strong! You people are an example for all of us!
Honestly, sometimes I wonder if anything bad ever happens in your life, how you people can look always so happy, strong and full of energy. And this story explains it all! You love life and look at it in the right way, you don’t let things bring you down.
I know this is “supposed to be” only a deco blog, but you make it special with the love for your family and life. Thanks for sharing the story with us, it meant a lot!
JennZ says
Wow, I’m speechless. I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult that time must have been for you. This post had me so choked up and on the brink of crying. I know that my words for you probably won’t change any of your feelings, but I’m hopeful that they do. I’m the type of person who gets “traumatized” very easily. One bad experience and I’m done, there’s no getting me back to that situation without an extremely anxious and angry Jenn lol. Your experience is so much more intense, so I can’t imagine how you must feel.
But the saying is true, what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger. Maybe this situation was meant to happen. Maybe it was God’s way of opening your eyes to all of your blessings. Or it happened to teach the doctors and nurses something so that they could save lives after helping you. Maybe it happened so that your marriage could grow stronger and your relationship could be infallible. I know that in this moment, so soon after it has happened, you probably think that what I’ve just said is a bunch of crap and that’s fine, but hopefully someday you’ll be able to find out what the “teachable moment” in this situation is.
And if you’re still too anxious, scared, or worried when the time has come for you to get pregnant again, you can always think of adoption or other options.
I hope that by telling your story, you have found some sort of peace and closure.
Best wishes!
Jenn
Jill S. says
Wow! What a story. Tears were literally streaming down my face. I just had my first a little over 3 months ago and thinking about ever going through something like that with him just broke me down. You guys are SO STRONG! It’s in moments like that you know someone is really looking out for you. God bless you guys! Enjoy every moment you have with Clara (not that I need to tell you).
Cecilie says
I read your rough and touching story yesterday and I’ve been mulling over it all night. I have been following your blog for a long time, comment once in awhile and love that you share so many sides of your life. This is one of those experiences in life that makes a lasting imprint on you and I am thankful for you to have each other and Clara everyday.
While you do want more kids, from want I understand, I’ll be a voice telling you that being an only child is not necessarily a sorrow. I have loved it all my life and I am actively emphasizing that having siblings might be wonderful but it isn’t a hopeless situation not having any. I hope you have all the kids you dream of and I am by no means trying to say don’t try – I am just saying that with loving parents, family and friends, Clara would have a wonderful life with or without siblings.
Once again: thank you so much for sharing this terrible experience with it beautiful, lively outcome. You are lucky to have Clara and she is lukcy to have you.
Liz says
Sherry and John,
This story brought me to tears. Not only was I moved by what you’ve been through, I was reminded of the births of my siblings. My mother was in her late thirties when she was pregnant with the two of them (they’re 15 months apart)… and I was already a pre-teen. We almost lost them both several times throughout the pregnancies, and they thought my sister was going to have spinabifida. I remember how terrifying it was every time my mother would hemorrhage, and how we kept thinking that she’d lost the baby. In fact, with my sister, she went into labor much too early, on my 13th birthday, rushed to the hospital, leaving me at home, terrified, with my one year old brother. I am so thankful that the two of them turned out to be perfectly fine (although they are now teenage pains in the butt).
I’m so glad for you two to have such a beautiful, bald (I was too, bald babies unite!), amazing daughter. Glad you’re all okay. <3 Happy Birthday, Clara!
Renee says
Sherry,
What an incredible story. You told it with such grace and vulnerability. Well done. I hope that it does help in your processing and healing. Happy almost birthday to Clara! May you enjoy the day.
Heather Johnson says
Sherry,
I’ve been reading your blog for several months now – I feel like I know you! I had tears in my eyes reading this post. Such a scary story. I’m glad you ended up with a happy ending and a beautiful little Clara! I’ve had four c-sections and four less-than-ideal pregnancies, but four BEAUTIFUL and happy children!! When the time is right I’m sure you will handle another pregnancy. I know it’s easy to start saying “what if….” but ultimately God is in control and you just need to TRUST.
Happy Birthday Clara!!
Heather
mommy to Burke (7), Ashlyn (6), Ryker (4) and Luella (18 months)
Kalee says
As a first time pregnant woman I kind of read this with a hand over my mouth. I cannot even imagine what you and John must have gone through. (and I don’t think I’ll be sharing with the husband.) But Clara is beautiful and amazing and you two are strong beyond words.
Rebekah says
I am truly impressed with the amount of courage you have.
Tarnya Cook says
There are no words guys. That was such a sad story but with the best ever ending. I’m so grateful both you and Clara came through just fine.
Tarnya
xx
Amy says
Sherry you are AMAZING! I read this post this morning in Australia & have been thinking about you guys all day. The birth of my 3 month old baby girl was not drama free (but not as scary as yours) & i’m terrified of ever going through it again. Your post made me cry, but reinforces what I already thought about you – you are such a selfless person & a wonderful wife/mother to be thinking only of John & Clara the whole time you were going through this. Keep doing what you’re doing, I think this story has won you even more admiration from your readers (if that was possible).
Jacquelyn says
You three are such inspirations to all of us! I cried as I read this story, for your pain, for your fear and last but not least for your wonderful outcome. I truly hope that you will be able to find, at the very least, a small amount of peace before your next pregnancy so that you can enjoy it without fear and anxiety.
Kristy says
It’s not the road you’d ever thought would be yours, huh.
I’m so pleased you feel able to share your story (I agree it can be important in getting further down that road) and that Miss Clara is here for and with you both every day. Reading other people’s stories (which I happened to read before I even knew I needed them) I also found helpful – but not for comparison (no one’s heartache should compete with another’s) – rather for insight, inspiration and seeing what positives they found/used.
I know the feeling of nothing being wrong until it all was and that wasn’t until our fourth so completely out of the blue. Ours was not a ‘happy ending’. From there, I know the feeling of no more ‘blissful naivety’ for subsequent fifth pregnancy. Eventually, we made it through that.
I am always excited for anyone I know who announces their pregnancy but now, along with it comes worry and hopes that things will be ok for them. So you can know that many good wishes and thoughts are and will be with you, when/if that time comes for a sibling for Clara.
For me, In the end I had to accept that I would do what I could do and the rest was out of my hands. A long time to get to that place but when I did, a weight lifted.
Enjoy Miss Clara!
Kristy
(Aus)
Maya says
P.S. I already commented, but I just wanted to say two more things:
1. I bet your story will save the life of at least one other baby. I know that hearing the short version just under a year ago convinced me that I DID want to be in the hospital when I would give birth, even though there’s some pressure to go for home birth if you want to go natural. I now also feel like, if the contractions are way worse than I expect, I’ll feel confident asking for special attention. Hopefully this won’t make a difference for me, but you never know. (14 weeks pregnant here!)
2. 3-4 years between kids is awesome… my brothers are 3 and 6 years older than me and my little sister is 4 years younger. We’re all very close, especially me and my sister, and I think the best part is that the big sibling is old enough to be excited about a new baby, not jealous. My only disappointment with my sister was that she wasn’t twins. :)
Anna, Sydney says
I’m in tears. I remember so well at the time you mentioned complications but didn’t touch on it further. I cannot fathom what John must’ve gone through, so close to losing you both. So blessed. So blessed.
Kaitlyn says
I know there are thousands of comments here already and many have said the same things I’m going to say…
but Sherry, you are SO BRAVE for sharing Clara’s birth and SO STRONG for letting yourself relive such a terrifying experience. And that goes for John as well.
I am so sorry that your first pregnancy wasn’t the dream pregnancy/birth all first-time moms hope for. :( But I believe that your blog (and your words) will reach people who have never heard of cord prolapse or placental abruption. I know I hadn’t before reading your story. I really applaud you for spreading awareness!
I know that when I get pregnant for the first time, I will remember your story and try to mentally prepare myself for “what-if” scenarios … because I think it is scarier to pretend they won’t happen to me.
Clara is absolutely beautiful — really, her smile says it all. I think all your readers will appreciate the Clara photos and milestones even more now, too.
Thank you both!
Denise Laborde says
Even if it is comment one-thousand-six-hundred-and-something, I’d like to thank you for sharing your story. Bringing life into this world is a miracle through and through. I am happy for your happy ending :)
B @B Getting Hot says
So moved. When I read this part “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.” just so totally moving and completely sums up the fear and the love and the terror of that moment. I can’t even imagine. Thank you so much for your willingness to share this story with your readers.
Brooke says
What a miracle baby you have!! So sorry that you all had to go through that but so happy that you have beautiful Clara to look at everyday!
B says
Hey Sherry, I just want to thank you for sharing your story. I’m currently pregnant with my first and I tend to go to the negative very easily. I prefer to say that I am a realist because it’s a more positive way of saying it. I make a valid effort to be positive every single day. In my quest to stay positive have found hypnobirthing, and I am taking classes. Yes they advocate for the natural birth, but more importantly it is all about relaxing and releasing fear. Perhaps next time around it would be worth looking into as it is something very comforting. They also teach the Dads lots of things to help which I love because then the guy isn’t just a spectator during pregnancy and birth. I am finding it very helpful with the relaxing aspect. Feel free to e-mail me if you want to know anything more.
Happy birthday to your lovely Clara. How about a post on how you narrowed down your name choices?
YoungHouseLove says
Thanks so much for the hypnobirthing info- you’re not the first to suggest it so I’ll have to look into it for sure! As for how Clara got her name, it was pretty simple. We liked some other classic names (like Wendy and Lucy and Alice) but Clara was John’s grandma’s name so even before we knew we were having a girl John came up with it (looking through an old family album) and I thought for about one second before screaming “yes!” I knew I was having a girl by 8 weeks along- just had such a strong feeling. Of course I had to wait until 20 weeks for docs to confirm it, but then we were totally “married” to Clara. Haha. It just came up early and stuck! Now we can’t imagine calling her by any other name.
xo,
s
Kelly says
I have been waiting for this post! But I am so thankful you waited to share until you were ready. I read this in the middle-of-the-night feeding of my 4 week old. I am floored at your experience and it just makes me so thankful for Clara and my Annalise! As a new mom, I cherish hearing about others’ birth stories and beginnings of being a mom. And even though we have never met, you seem like a friend since I’ve kept up with YHL for years! So thanks for sharing, friend! And God will prepare you for what is to come…whatever it is. I know you and John are strong and won’t let anything stop you from living life!
shanna says
Wow. I had my baby at home (common in the Netherlands), without any painkillers, in a swift 4 hours. It never even occured to me that things like this could happen.Thanks for that insight.
Also, Clara shows to be a good fighter!
Cristina says
Your story made me cry!
And one can see how much you love each other.
Clara is a lucky girl!
Janke says
Thank you so much for sharing this personal story!! It made me cry, but the tears became happy tears in the end. What a gorgeous little wonder Clara is! And what a great and truly lovely family you guys are!!
I’m sending you a huge hug and a big slobbery kiss all the way from Germany!
The Nester, Meagan says
No wonder it has been so hard for you to talk about it! My gosh, I was just completely absorbed emotionally in your story of Clara’s birthday! She is indeed a miracle baby! You are lucky to have such a healthy happy baby and she is so lucky to have two great parents!
xo meagan
Elizabeth says
I hope your posting brings you peace and closure. Clara clearly gets her “fight” and spirit from her amazing parents! Your blog is a daily highlight for me and I wish you many many happy years of young house love literally and figuratively.
Sarah says
Oh Sherry and John!! I’m sitting here in tears reading this, I haven’t even finished but I just want you to know how amazing I think you both are, and how sorry I am you had to go through such a terrible ordeal to get your beautiful baby!!! I don’t normally comment, and I’m sure a million people will say the same, but I just wanted to let you know happy I am for you, and I wish you and Clara and Burger all the love an happiness in the world!!
Alyzande says
Hi, I had this too, except they had to give me a full anaesthetic and my baby girl turned out to be a baby boy and he was 6 weeks early.
I know the comments will be helpful for you to read, because they were for me, but I also understand that you need to go over it several times in your head in order to reduce the fear by a small amount each time you remember it.
And when it’s time to try again, just take it as it comes.
SAGirl says
What an amazing story! And it just makes one realise again what an absolute miracle each and every child really is. I am so glad that your story has a happy ending *and* that I knew about the happy ending while I was reading it, otherwise I would have been biting my nails all the way through! You really are an inspirational family. (First comment for me! This post really got all the lurkers to come out of the woodwork and show their support!)
Kate says
Honey you are such a strong and courageous woman. Thank you so much for sharing this story and showing your vulnerability. xxx
Jade in UK says
Wow – I could only read half of this story – it made me faint at work!! I have never fainted before so it was really wierd!!
Anyway, I don’t think I can read the rest (I got to the rushing to ER part) but I just want to say, like ther other readers, well done for writing this and enjoy your little miracle. She is soo adorable!
J x
Michelle says
Thank you so much for sharing your amazing birth story S! You have me in tears right now, as I am totally hormonal and holding my baby at HDH. I am so glad that you had such a great team of doctors there!
Kaity says
I absolutely agree with everything everyone’s said. I just wanted to hug you all reading that. There are two very tough girls over at YHL. I’m so glad everything turned out okay and I’m keeping my fingers crossed for the future xoxo.
Vanessa says
Wow… Your story made me cry. You three were through so much trouble. And you made it!
I’m becoming an aunt in about five weeks. And I’m so excited – but there’s also fear. Not because of your story, but we got our own sad story in the family…
Hopefully everything is going to be okay in the end – like it is for you!
Jen says
Sherry,
I know it must’ve been very hard to share this story with us. I am so sorry you went through those complications and scary minutes of your (and your family’s) life. My own pregnancy, like yours, was a breeze & my doctor even said that the delivery should go very smoothly b/c of my health & shape, etc. Well, that was not the case at all for me. My doc was out of the country, I wasn’t progressing well, & it took me 2 hours of hard pushing (which included forceps in the end…and stitches) the baby finally came out. But it was scary…so many nurses & doctors acting quickly, the baby not responding well…I let my mind worry about that day for months afterward. I finally had to just stop my mind from going there & say, “He made it. I made it. Let it go.” But like you, I still have that fear of what may happen if we had another one. It.is.scary. You hear all of the wonderful, beautiful, simple “normal” delivery stories, and when yours doesn’t end up like that it’s tough! I realized that day just how “life and death” delivering a baby truly is. I praise God for His grace to have helped us both come out healthy in the end, but it was hard. Anyway, all that to say, again I’m sorry for the pain you endured, but thankful for the precious gift you so love and value in your sweet baby Clara. I will pray for you, too, knowing that fear too well. May you be blessed for your willingness to share with others.
-Jen
Katie @ Domestiphobia.net says
Just… wow. I can see why all of that would take some time to process. If and when you do decide to try again, a certain amount of anxiety is completely understandable. But I’m sure the excitement and joy will find its way in – especially if that’s your personality. No wonder Clara is so smiley all the time, considering all the three of you went through to get her here!
Sofie says
I was tearing up as I read this. What a frightening experience! But I’m so happy to know you got such a wonderful daughter out of it and that you’re both okay.
Thank you for writing this; I know it can’t have been easy.
Keri Beth says
How terrifying! I’m so glad everything turned out okay for you guys.
Also, what is up with everybody’s moms having four hour labors? My mom was in labor for four hours with me, two hours with my little sister, my mother-in-law was in labor for four hours with my wife, and lots of my friends say their moms were in labor for four hours. Were they really, or do they just remember it that way? I told my doctor my mom’s first labor was four hours, so she should hurry to the hospital when I called her (ha, ha)! And my first labor was 32 hours long.
YoungHouseLove says
Haha, that’s too funny. I don’t know anyone else whose mom had such short labors but it’s hilarious that so many people’s moms that you know seem to have 4 hour labors.
xo,
s
Amy in PA says
More proof that we are so fortunate to live in area that provides such great medical care – and that a healthy pregnancy, delivery & child is a miracle every time!! Thanks for sharing your story!
Rachel N.C says
You just made me cry…
im happy for you. i had two miscarriages last year and it was really a bad time, but i know someday ill have my miracle. :)
thanks for this post. clara is beautiful.
Kay says
Whew…………..what a birth…….Clara’s will be a huge birthday party celebration….for such good reason.
& you know, her face shows her happiness of life. I have never ever seen such a happy baby w/ giant blue expressive eyes. She simply exudes joy.
Enjoy……..you 3 are a wonderful family.