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.
Erica says
The tears are streaming over here in NY. I just can’t imagine all the emotions you 2 went through that day. I have 3 beautiful and healthy kids and I knew I was lucky to have such easy labors but I now know that I took it totally for granted! You and John are such amazing parents to little Clara and I am so happy for you guys that you got your miracle!!!! I know that you are thankful everyday and enjoy her as much as you can! Just know that I feel so much closer to you all after reading this and my heart is happy that everything turned out okay!
Emily says
Chalk me up with all of the criers…such a moving story. I can’t even imagine going through all of that. You guys are so dearly loved by all of us who know you in internet land.
I wanted to share something someone told me once…I have/had this irrational fear of my husband dieing and leaving me, and someone told me that I had to stop thinking about it because every time you do, you live it. So essentially instead of living it once when it really happens, you live it every time you worry about it (and that’s definitely not something I want to re-live over and over and over). Anyway, I was just thinking about baby #2 for you and your worries and fears. Thanks for putting this out there. You are one amazing mama! Much love to you, John, and Clara.
Alison says
Your story hits home for me in so many ways. After a relatively easy pregnancy, my first daughter was stillborn at 39 weeks, on 2/18/2010. Two days before my due date, my husband and I went in for our last scheduled ob appointment. Like most new parents, we were nervous but assumed that everything was fine. Long story short, my doctor couldn’t find the baby’s heartbeat. She literally burst into tears in the exam room before I fully processed what was happening. By the end of the day, I was in a c-section. My doctors encouraged me to try an induction, but at that point the prospect of laboring was unfathomable to me.
Like you Sherry, I kind of skipped over the worst scenario pages of all the pregnancy books. I’m a health nut and was very strict about diet, environmental exposures, etc. during pregnancy. I really had no idea that stillbirth could occur so suddenly, in the absence of any major warning signs. Despite access to plenty of medical “experts” (we live in northern Virginia), no one could ever pinpoint a cause of my daughter’s death. (Evidently, this is the case in about half of all stillbirths, i.e. no identifiable cause.)
To say that this was the most devastating experience of my life would be an understatement. The main reason I’m posting about it is to let you know that I went on to make it through another pregnancy and have a healthy baby. Our second baby, another daughter, was born just one year later (nine weeks ago, 2/21/2011). High-risk pregnancies aren’t fun, but somehow you just do it. The one thing I can suggest is to just embrace the high-risk part of it. For me, “high-risk” meant many more appointments and monitoring, which brought some peace of mind, especially towards the end (which is when my anxiety was at its worst). During the third-trimester, the combination of frequent non-stress tests (NSTs) and ultrasounds is an emotional life-saver.
YoungHouseLove says
I’m so sorry for your loss Alison. What a nightmare. But I’m so glad to hear that you went on to have a gorgeous daughter one year later.
xo,
s
Beth says
Thank you so much for sharing your heart with us all. You may end up helping someone else who may experience placental abruption, and wouldn’t have previously known the symptoms. I know I had never heard of it before, so I hope that by you sharing your story, other babies can be saved. :)
Rose says
Beautiful Sherry,
I am so glad that you felt you could share this story. You are amazingly blessed…you just never know what life is going to throw at you…..
I feel blessed too even though I never got the fairytale ending to my story…
My first son was born with apgars of 9 in an ideal natural labour….wow I was feeling like superwoman yet at 4mths we discovered he had a brain malformation and at 5.5yrs he is profoundly disabled.. My second child was born in an ideal labour and is thankfully very healthy at 3.5yrs..I managed to shut out the fear and welcomed him with hope and joy and no expectations. Mr 5.5 has taught me the power of love and I love him more and more each day. I never thought it would happen to me, it did, and I am still ok…you never know your strength until you are called upon to use it…. My family is not picture perfect but perfect to me….just wanted to share that when one of the “worst” imaginable scenarios actually does eventuate….you can still survive it and live a different/hard yet fulfilling life. I just wanted to share this for those who might be in the other 50% of outcomes when the baby may end up brain damaged…I wanted to share that there is hope for having a wonderful family and that special needs parenting can be as rewarding and loving in ways never imagined..
Sorry for waffling on…..it might help someone if they read through almost 2000 comments ;)……maybe it’s just helped me writing this….
YoungHouseLove says
It helps me! Ever single comment has helped me so much. You guys have no idea. Thanks so much for all of the support and for sharing your touching stories.
xo,
s
diana says
I know what you mean, even though my children are only gifted differently-academically, emotionally or otherwise. I learned to make every day the effort to love them for them, not for my dreams for them.
And it’s true, the heart only grows to make room for more love.
Meghan says
Thank you so much for taking the time to share this, Sherry. It is truly moving and such a testament to the miracle that is life. Tell Clara “happy birthday!” from me – she’s my birthday twin!! :)
Meghan
lesli devito says
wow. wow. having worked in OB for 14 years – I am in awe and I do believe you are the victim of a drive by MIRACLE!!!!I am so happy for you, celebrate. enjoy. you are blessed. and yes, I too had to read this in sections. What an intense story. I am glad for you that you can share it with us. Thank you.
lesli devito says
…actually I think it was a “fly by” miracle, your guardian angel worked overtime that day….
Candice says
Wow. What an incredible story. I too started to cry, especially when thinking of John standing in the hallway alone. I would feel the same exact for my husband if that situation were to occur.
Thank you for sharing and Happy Birthday to your little fighter.
Clair says
I cried while I read this – which totally confused my boyfriend, because I was reading a home improvement blog at 8:30 in the morning…not really an obvious reason to cry…
Clara is wonderful and I’m sure she will welcome a baby brother or sister someday. You’ve got all the positive thinking of the blog world on your side. =)
Redmed2000 says
Sherry – Thanks for sharing this heartfelt story of how Clara came into the world. As an OB myself, I can tell you the fear in those situations goes both ways. There’s no getting around it–that situation is SCARY!
I’m so happy that Clara is turning one! She’s an inspiration to us all. And thank you for sharing- you are helping others by writing about it too.
Ling says
I am so sorry you had to endure such a traumatic experience and am so, so glad that you had an excellent team of doctors and nurses on hand. I also find the image of solitary John heartbreaking. I suppose the dads are always ignored in those types of situations. But in the end you got beautiful, cheeky Clara, and I wish all three of you the best for her first birthday!
Jessica says
Wow – such an amazing and emotional story of Clara’s birth. I can understand why it took a while for you to write about it. Your little daughter is so precious and you will have lots to celebrate on her birthday!
Ana says
This is so beautifully written — as I bawl into my cornflakes.
Lucy Sinkular says
I am almost speechless. What a blessing. You are an inspiration to parents everywhere. Even though my children are OLD at 13 and 11, reading your story reminds me to be thankful for what I have. You’re obviously a gifted writer, and I thank you for having the courage to share this with everyone. Best wishes, Lucy
Kay says
A truly harrowing experience guys. While my birth story was not as serious, it was scary in its own right. Makes you just hold them a little tighter when you think about the “what could haves”….
Sherry I know it was hard to relive it again to share with us, so double thanks for sharing!
Clara adorable and man oh man is she a truly blessed baby to have 2 such cool parents!
Cassity @ Remodelaholic says
You poor thing! I was bawling my eyes out reading this in my email this morning! I am so glad for your sakes and hers that she is alive and well, you are truly blessed!!
And when it comes again, still plan for that baby. Plan for a good outcome, be as positive as you were before (even if you are petrified!)… I just truly believe that positive think results in positive experiences, even when things are REALLY hard!
You have about a million people thinking and praying for you that everything will be okay! That is a pretty good support group!
(thanks for sharing!!)
Carley says
I wanted to leave a comment yesterday, but no words seemed sufficient enough, so I’ll just say what I’m feeling since it’s been eating me away.
This is such an amazing story, it stayed on my mind since the moment I read it, and will probably always be there whenever I read your blog or even know someone in labor. It is a truly humbling experience, and there is a lot everyone can take away from hearing it and I’m positive a lot you can take away from sharing it. I hope it provides the healing you deserve. This story is a reminder to not take any life for granted, it is a passionate tale of a mother’s love, it is the most horrific situation you can ever imagine, with the happiest ending possible.
It is a side to YHL I’ve never seen, but one I respect a great deal.
Thank you for sharing.
Amy says
Wow. Wow. Wow.
This story has seriously made me think about home births.
You just never know, do you?
A huge happy birthday to Clara!
Emma Johnson says
Oh man! What a post! Sherry, you are a great writer of your own thoughts and feelings. I have a 4 week old son today, and things SLOWLY spiraled out of control for me. I am even more grateful that we had all that time to make decisions and process since you didn’t have a millisecond of time to process. I hope you find healing in putting it all out there into the world. I found healing in your post.
Jen says
Hey guys, I had a not to plan birth with my son, I was traumatised as a new mum. Then when I had my daughter she too had her own script, not according to plans. When you described that period of hearing no cry but seeing the staff’s faces I empathise, it’s a surreal thing.
Even though it was over a decade ago, that intensity of emotion is still there. I too was glad to be in the best of hands when it really mattered.
It is not easy to share such a story, and you wrote it beautifully. Your family is lovely. Cheers, Jen
Ivonne says
The same thing happened to me with my third one. Except in my case, the doctor said there wasn’t time for a c-section (and I had just arrived there) The doctor got her hand in there and got baby out. She is the best OB in the DC area, IMO. I don’t live there anymore but her name was Dr. Andersen and she saved both our lives. Afterwards they were doing some sort of cleaning of my uterus and felt the worst pain in my life. I was out of it for hours, don’t remember much.
But if this makes you feel better, with my fourth one, I waited almost two years and had no abruption.
With number 5 however, there was a partial abruption during labor, but it was probably because the doctor on call (a very incompetent one) didn’t believe I was going to have the baby right away (even tough, like your mom’s, all my labors had been less than 2 hours) and doctor did not go to the hospital when told I was already there. And once I was at a 10 and ready to push, it took the doctor one hour to get there. My OB was so apologetic the next day (there were probably fearing a lawsuit)
Number 3 and number 5 (both abruption babies) are doing just fine developmentally.
I highly recommend you get the best OB you can get and possibly one that specializes in high risk pregnancies.
Everything will work out!
Caitlin in MD says
This was a beautiful and honest post. I completely understand why it took you nearly a year to write it. I had a baby boy in August 2010 and had a very difficult labor and delivery (and am still having complications now, 9 months later). My emotions are still jumbled. I still rehash details of the day in my mind (doctors and nurses made a number of poor decisions) and grieve, a bit, for the birth and postpartum experience I could have had. Maybe I will follow your lead and work on a birth story of my own.
I also appreciate so much that you wrote how “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.” Most moms (and dads) I know points to the birth of their child/children as the best day of their lives. The day my son was born was scary and painful and emotional and draining and confusing and maddening. Yes, that day ushered in what has become the best and most wonderful time of my life, but the day itself was rough. And I’m still not over it.
Traci says
I am 7th grade teacher and none of my students understand why I am sobbing at my desk right now while they are working on a project! Thank you for sharing such a private and super emotional moment. You are an amazing woman for enduring that! How lucky is Clara to have such a wonderful mother and father??
Caitlin in MD says
P.S. Clara is an angel. Such expressiveness in that face!
Mindy says
Your story made me cry! Thank you for sharing it with us! I had a partial placental abruption with my daughter. The staff at my hospital were trying to not panic me so mine wasn’t as terrifying as yours but I was whisked into a c-section quickly so I knew it was a serious matter! My daughter is now a healthy, happy 7 year old! :)
vanessa says
What an amazing story! I didn’t expect tears with my coffee and blog check in today, but that’s what I got. It’s such a poignant reminder that our babies are precious and never to be taken for granted. Every baby should be loved to bits, but of course you’ll hold Clara just a little bit tighter :)
Renee says
from a 4 to a 9 on the Apgar??? Clara definitely wins the “most improved newborn” award! :)
but on a serious note, I’m SO happy for the amazing miracle of your daughter! she is beyond beautiful and what a blessing from God! i can’t imagine how difficult it was to write and share this story, but thank-you for doing it. reminds us all of how precious life is! sending love to your blessed little family! (and the almost birthday girl!) :)
Erin says
Wow. And wow. Thank you so much for sharing Clara’s birth story. I hope that telling it gives you some sense of healing or processing. I found myself crying as I read your story, picturing the whole thing unfolding in my head. I’m a mom to two, and the way you described your attitude going into the end of your pregnancy sounded so familiar. My first, my daughter, will be five next Thursday and I was so moved and heartbroken imagining the experience you all endured. It reminds me how seriously miraculous a healthy baby is. Most importantly, I am so glad that Clara is healthy and turning one! Enjoy her day. I’m sure that day will bring back lots of memories and emotions, both scary and blissful. Be well and Happy Birthday to all of you!
Tiffany says
Hey guys, I have been a loyal reader for some time now and I read this post last night on my ipad while sitting next to my very sick 10 day old in the NICU. I was given a fatal prenatal diagnosis around 20 weeks and my husband and I decided to carry her to term despite what we were told. We embraced our pregnancy, did maternity photos and tried to prepare ourselves for the day we would meet and lose our daughter.
She was born on the 17th here in Richmond, and came out screaming and crying. We of course wanted NICU to evaluate her when she was born, but they were there..or thought they were there…to provide “comfort care” as they say. We wanted to give her any chance at life she asked for, without prolonging any type of suffering. Her quality of life is and has been our number one priority. She however has defied the odds the last now, 11 days and she is fighting so hard for her life! The doctors are all amazed at her strength. We are madly in love and so proud of our fighter!
Obviously, this post touched me deeply. I am so thankful you both came out on the other side of this as healthy, strong and beautiful. Much love.
YoungHouseLove says
Oh Tiffany, much love coming right back at you! What an amazing little girl you have on your hands. Thinking of you guys and your little fighter.
xoxo,
s
Allison says
Sherry, I’m glad you’re finally able to share this — so brave! When my son (my second) was born, I remember feeling the tension in the room escalating and then, as soon as he was born, the feeling of needing to hear him cry. His face was so blue, and his body was so white, and he was so quiet. I said, “Is he all right?” And a nurse said, “He will be.” And saying to my husband, “Go with the baby! Go with the baby!” He’s healthy and happy now, but, boy, was that scary.
Corinne says
Your story is incredible and you and Jon are such strong and incredibly lucky people! It brought me to tears…I am a labor nurse and have taken care of women in these situations but they haven’t ever been ready to share all these emotional details while they are still in the hospital. I have two kids but have never had to go through something like that. Hearing this from you will help me help my patients. I hope all future deliveries will be smooth as silk for you and that you will find yourself stronger and in a calm aware zone through your next pregnancy! We have a woman here that we refer patients to that has been through a lot herself. She offers an ear to anyone that might need someone that can relate. I know she is a long ways away over here in Montana but I would be happy to give you her number if you ever feel overwhelmed. She knows the anxiety that will inevitably creep up on you during your next and could maybe help during those times. Happy Birthday Lil’ Fighter you define miracle!!
Carrie says
The story of my first is similar to yours–picture perfect pregnancy, then fetal brain abnormalities, preeclampsia, super short cord around her neck, fetal distress, abruption, and emergency c-section of a preemie who I never heard cry. Terrifying.
I just wanted to say that while I did end up on bedrest with #2 four years later, that was the extent of the drama. Planned c-section (so much easier to recover when you haven’t also labored first), textbook delivery, quick recovery, blissful nursing and babyhood. :-)
They’re terrific sisters! Though my oldest has some learning challenges (I’m typingthis on my phone during occupational therapy), she has turned out fantastic. :-)
And I find that the anniversary of her birth makes me re-live it all a bit, just as you seem to find yourself doing. she’s 8 now.
Tiffany says
Also, I just saw your comment, we too are at Henrico and they ARE amazing! I couldnt have gotten through my pregnancy, labor or delivery without the support of my OB and my specialist.
As for the NICU staff…they are so, so wonderful. Luckily, you didn’t have to find that out. :)
Dawn says
Reading your story was hard – it was a total reflection of what happened with our first child. 20 years later, I still remember some scenes of the event like it was yesterday. My husband was left standing in the hallway believing that he not only had lost his first child but that he also about to lose his wife. I’ll never forget waking from surgery (they put me out) not to ask “Is it a boy or girl”, like I had dreamed for months, but “Is my baby alive.” When the nurse answered “Yes”, I melted into a puddle of sobbing tears. (Even as I write this, my hands are shaking with emotion.) Our son was born blue but, like your precious Clara, was a fighter. And he is healthy, and strong, and very smart…
Our first son was born on Christmas 1990 – a true Christmas miracle.
(PS – I had two more beautiful boys with no complications. And gave birth naturally, too.)
Tonja Morris says
Glad the story doesn’t make you cry anymore. It almost made me cry for bringing back the memories of my similar story.
On Easter Morning 2003, I went to the hospital for a non-stress test on my way to Mom’s house for festivities. I was a high-risk pregnancy with high-blood pressure, but nothing too serious. I never left the hospital that day. At about 11pm the doctor decided to do a c-section because the baby wasn’t responding. She cried when she was born, but was barely pink. Within an hour she had had a blood transfustion. I didn’t even get to hold her until the next morning.
The doctors never figured out what went wrong, but I am happy to say that she is now 8 and you’d never know she was premature or had any health problems.
Love to you all!
Kirsten says
I too had a horrific first birthing experience. My pregnancy was picture perfect, much like yours. It took me a long time to heal emotionally from what happened to me, and I carried that weight through my second pregnancy as you will too. You are brave to consider a second baby. It was a difficult decision for us also, though my situation was different than yours and they told us (at first) not to have any more children. As for words of encouragement, my second pregnancy was also a dream, and had nary an issue with the natural childbirth I got to have. While you have 25% statistical chance of having more issues that’s a great 75% chance that nothing will go wrong! Best of luck with it when you are ready. Children are a wonderful blessing.
Elizabeth McGonagle says
You are brave and strong to tell this story, and I know it will help others deal with similar situations.
I’m not young– hope I’m fun–have 4 grown children, but I love reading your blog. The painting video about the short handled edging brush was so helpful as I recently helped my son and his wife paint their new house.
Children are a life-long gift that keep on giving. Enjoy every stage! And Happy Birthday to Clara.
Caroline says
Thanks so much for sharing! We too had a rough delivery and our little girl wouldn’t cry either. There is nothing more scary than laying in the delivery room listening to people say, “Come on baby. Cry.” Sometimes I feel so alone in my negative feelings toward the birth of my daughter and my fear of having more, but we aren’t alone! Thanks again for sharing! Clara is a true blessing!
Diana Y says
Love your family and am so happy that you are all okay. Wanted to go back in time and give you hugs on that frightening day. So thankful for beautiful baby Clara! When the time comes for your next baby, we’ll all be here to support you along the way. In the meantime, give Clara extra hugs and kisses for us.
Jennie says
Sherry and John,
I read Clara’s birth story yesterday morning, and I’ve been mulling it over ever since. You have a beautiful way of writing, and you communicated the emotion of the day perfectly. Thank you for sharing such an amazing story with everyone.
My husband and I are expecting our first, a daughter, in July, and your story had both of us in tears. I read it in sections yesterday, to avoid outright sobbing at my desk, and then revisited it throughout the day. Your little Miss Clara is such a blessing. I cannot tell you how glad I am that everything came out so well in the end – what a miracle! I always love seeing your pictures of sweet Clara -congratulations on her (almost!) 1st birthday! Your little family is beautiful and strong!
Brandan WH says
Ok. I am sitting hear BAWLING! What a brave family you are for sharing this story. It’s so satisfying to see Clara grow big and strong considering her start. Needless to say, she will be able to do anything because all she has to do is remember how she came into the world and think, “well, it has to be easier than that”!
Carrie Z says
Wow…BARELY holding it together here. Crazy scary story with a beautiful ending! Thank you for sharing and have a wonderful day with your family.
Sophie says
I know there’s a bazillion comments here, but I couldn’t help but add one too. Your story brought me to tears. My now 8 yr old son was born via emergency c-section (although I was completely out, general anesthesia) because of a prolapsed cord. It was the most scary thing I’ve ever been through. His birthday is such a celebration for me but also remembering those horrific moments not knowing if he was dead or alive. I too had to watch my husband white as a ghost and hear later that he was tormented waiting in the hallway for news not knowing if either of us would make it. Turns out that this child has continuously scared me with his adventurous spirit for the last 8 years!! I guess his birth was just preparing me for his life.
Michelle says
What an amazing story. No wonder you haven’t wanted to write about it, reliving it all would be so scary. I do hope that sharing Clara’s story brings you some peace. Thank you for sharing it with us, what a blessing that little one of yours is!
Tara says
Sherry,
I’m just wondering where you heard the information that ” [an APGAR of 4 is] usually the lowest score you can get before permanent brain damage if things don’t improve by the five minute Apgar retest” and exactly what that means? The wording is a little confusing to me, I guess. Not to delve into my own birth story, but my Baby A (twins) had an initial APGAR of 2, and then rebounded to a 7 for the 5 minute test. We’ve been told repeatedly that she’s fine, and should have no residual issues because of her traumatic entrance into the world.
So I guess I’m just wondering if we are amazingly lucky and she has miraculously broken the mold of I-go-a-2-on-my-initial-APGAR kids, or something else?
Thanks for sharing your story! After having a rather traumatic delivery myself, even if it didn’t end in c-section, I know the strength it took to share! It’s hard, but healing!
YoungHouseLove says
What we were told is that many babies (though not all) who have under a four initially and still have under a four at the five minute mark can indicate some sort of permanent brain damage. But in the end every baby is different – someone commented that her baby got a zero at one minute and five minutes and is now a thriving and healthy kid! How amazing is that?
xo,
s
Kristin says
My first two pregnancies I had preclampsia so I got to have induced labor with the first. Ultimately havin a csection. I didn’t have a bad response, but I do wait anxiously till I get the signs of preclampsia. I’m due in two months, didn’t have any signs with the third baby, but I guess that is really rare. I just wait with excitement & anticipation for each move the baby makes. So hard not to let your mind go to dark places, but at least you know what to look for & have a great team of people (docs & friends alike) to help out at a moments notice.
Keep healing bc if you get another sweet miracle like Clara, you will have an even more sweet fam :)
Teale says
What an amazing, yet terrifying, experience. So happy for you that all turned out ok. We had complications with our first pregnancy, and unfortunately did not have a happy outcome. With the next pregnancy, the fears were overwhelming. It was a constant struggle to try and replace that fear with faith. The innocence of pregnancy is lost, and it is so hard to try and enjoy it all. Thankfully, we were blessed with a beautiful, perfect, healthy daughter. If you do have to go the “high risk” route…as scary as that is, those docs are the best and will watch you like a hawk. So glad you are enjoying sweet Clara, what a blessing.
Michelle says
What an incredible story – Clara is such a beautiful baby girl and I appreciate reading about her and your adventures so much more now. You have such a wonderful and inspiring family.
Sophia says
I just wanted to send my blessing and all my best to you, and your beautiful Clara! She is truly a miracle.
We tried for 5 years before we had our daughter, and then for two years before our son was born (several IVF tries in both cases). So I truly know what a blessing our children are. There were some complications during the first delivery that ended in an emergency c-section so when it was time to deliver the boy the doctors had me in for C-section to avoid all complications. All went smoothly and Im now a proud mom of two (5y and 9m).
Love you blog and read it daily. I have gotten so many of my friends here in Iceland to read it that we have started talking abough John and Sherry as if you are a real part of our group of friends :)
Thank you for you blog, inspirations, fun and DIY-knowledge!
All my best
Christine says
Thank your for sharing this incredibly difficult story. I hope by writing it out, it healed a little bit of the trauma for you. I admit that I teared up thinking of John out in the hall too. After having 2 kiddos, I can’t imagine thinking of my husband not being there.