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.
Shannon says
What a beautiful post. You write quite well. I can relate to the gravity of the word “NICU” even though I went into preterm labor I had never given a thought to the possibility that my baby (& I) wouldn’t have all those moments that we all imagine, that you describe beautifully (the first cry, being given your baby to lie on your chest, the nurses telling your baby happy birthday). So glad your little miracle is such a fighter!
Karen says
Thank you so much for sharing your story. I delivered three weeks early (preeclampsia) after gaining 95 pounds with my first pregnancy. My beautiful daughter, Jill (now 21), weighed 6 lbs 10 1/2 ounces. Fortunately, I lost 70 pounds in the first six weeks although fluid leaked out of every conceivable orafice and pore for weeks. Two and a half years later…her brother was born. No issues.
Sarah says
WOW. As someone trying (and not succeeding) to get pregnant, reading this made me tear up a bit. I hope it helps you process the day and feel better going forward. Thanks for sharing.
Ali says
Sherry,
My little boy had the same due date as Clara so I always felt a connection as I watched your pregnancy unfold. I was so happy for you guys when you first posted her birth although I realized as a physician you must have been through a very scary experience. So, so happy for you, John, and Clara. You’re a beautiful family and I’ve really enjoyed watching Clara grow up this year.
Jennifer says
My son was born from an emergency c-section due to a placental abruption. He is currently 27 and graduating from medical school in a year. My daughter was born just shy of 3 years later and the doctors told me that because it was a new placenta that I had no increased risk. She was two weeks past due and 10 pounds 2 ounces(I finally cried when they were going to send me home for the 4th time for not progressing and made them go in after her)! I know that you will be scared during your next pregnancy but things can go totally different!!! Best of luck!!!
Marie says
Wow; thank you so much for sharing your story! Babies are such miracles to begin with, however hearing your story makes it that much more apparent just how precious they are and how life is. I will be holding my two extra close tomorrow.
Caitlin says
That was one of the most intense stories I have ever read.I actually felt my heart start pounding harder as I read along. I am so glad your ending was so joyful! I watched a beloved aunt lose her full term baby. On the other side of my family, 2 of my cousins were born extremely premature and I also have a nephew born with a congenital heart defect. Sometimes I don’t think people realize how lucky they truly are. Clara is beautiful!
Carrie says
J&S,
Thank you for your vulnerability in sharing your Clara story with us! A very large community would have been devastated with you if anything bad had happened to her and I’m so glad all three of you are approaching the one year landmark to reflect on all the good since the scary day. I’m due any day with our first son and feel comforted knowing that even when things don’t go as planned, they can still turn out ok.
Nicky says
Oh my goodness, I’m breathless and teary here. What a completely frightening day!
My baby was born a month before Clara, a week overdue, I went into the hospital for monitoring and turned out to have what looked like the beginnings of pre-eclampsia so they induced me. I’d been afraid but had done hypnobirthing training, so I was optimistic that everything would be calm and peaceful. To make a long story short,the induction didnt’ take, I ended up with 3 lots of the gel which finally threw me into a weird not-quite-labour, no time between contractions to do my hypnobirthing exercises, and an epidural that didn’t work (put in the wrong spot). Finally after 8 hours and only 3cm my waters broke and the baby was in distress, so we switched to an emergency caesarian, although not quite as dramatically as yours!
I reckon for all the trauma, the emergency caesarians are worst for the dads. I remember feeling relief at that point, probably partly because of the spinal block taking away the pain :-) but also because finally the birth was in the hands of people who knew what they were doing. Dave, otoh, was just getting more and more worried, hated seeing me in pain, then the spinal block gave me the shakes he thought I’d gone into shock. Also, when they brought out the baby, all curled up, I saw her eyes were open and she was poking out her tongue, but he thought she wasn’t moving. When she did finally cry… the relief was amazing.
I found afterwards I needed to talk about the delivery over and over again, to fix it in my mind and process what happened. Dave really didn’t like talking about it because he was scared he’d lost us both.
The thing that got to me the most is all this happened at 10pm on Easter Sunday at a private hospital with no emergency room. All the OR staff had to be called in and they were all so amazing and reassuring. I know it’s just their job but I couldn’t have asked to be in better hands. All they wanted to do was get the baby out safely and healthy at the end of it.
So yes, even though my experience was a hundred times less traumatic than yours, I understand how you feel, and goodness, yes, why Clara is such a miracle.
love to you all. x
Bobbi says
Kiss the Bean!!
So scary, so relieving that all is well almost a year later, she is fabulous! Happy almost birthday!! It will fade with time, never go away, but as she hits every milestone at turns another year old your appreciation will deepen!
So glad you all are well.
Handy Man, Crafty Woman says
oh. my. I feel pale and shaky after reading that. we had one baby, and a very difficult, negative birth experience (not even ANYTHING like you describe…) but I still can’t really stand to talk about my birth experience. I don’t think I could ever write about it.
I’m so glad you are both ok. (I think I have to put my head down now so the blood drains back into it!!)
Sonya Hallmark says
I definitely got teary eyed reading this. What a true miracle, to God be the glory!
Kate says
I haven’t commented, because I really haven’t felt that I had anything to contribute, (seeing as I’ve never had a child) but after re-reading the whole story out loud to my husband tonight (yes the whole thing) I just wanted to say thank you for sharing Clara’s story.
You guys bring a smile to my face every day and I am so happy that I can share such a positive life changing event with you guys (and thousands of others) through the interwebs.
Thanks again for being amazing as usual…all four of you. :)
Katie Truelove says
Wow. So brave of you to share this story. I’m so glad you have precious Clara to love and care for (and I know you are too)!:)
melissa says
Thank you so much for sharing this story. As a high risk labor and delivery nurse for 6 years now it did more than make me tear up…i got the chills and fear in my stomach that comes with the experience of dealing with OB emergencies. You are so right in saying that the combo of those two rarely happens. It makes me really believe that there was some higher power out there watching out for you two and your darling baby girl. I have no doubt that you will not only continue making beautiful babies but that things will go GREAT during your future pregnancies and deliveries…we labor and delivery nurses are sort of a superstitious bunch and you’ve already been through a “worst case scenario” It will only get better from here!
xoxo-melissa
Hannah says
Sherry I can’t believe what you went through, I know how scary complications like that can be, but your momma bear instincts kick in, and all you want in the world is for your sweet baby to be ok.
Thank you for sharing, I have to admit it made me cry(which is a rare occurrence)
I’ve been following ur blog for a few years now, and have never commented, but I want yall to know how much you are appreciated in all that you share!
Ps I have 2 little boys and they are 5 years apart, so don’t frett on the age difference, it works for our family and you get to enjoy and cherish each stage they grow through individually, rather than having 2 babies on your hands
God Bless, and when u are prego again you will be in my prayers until that little one comes out healthy!
Gena Gastaldi says
wow. incredible story and such a beautiful baby.
Beth says
I know anecdotal stories are not as weighty as statistics. And I know the statistics say that you have a higher chance of an abruption in a subsequent pregnancy. But sometimes a little pep story can give you a titch of encouragement when the demons beckon. So I wanted you to know that I have two friends who had nearly identical stories to yours with their first pregnancies. And both of them went on to have amazing, empowering, problem-free second births. One is even becoming a doula and going to nursing school because she was so changed by the whole experience.
Happiest Birthday wishes to Clara!
Allison says
I am a long-time reader but I rarely comment. I know you already have a ton of comments on this post but I felt like I needed to tell you guys that I am so glad that you and your lovely baby girl made it through such a shocking labor!!! I had no idea it was so bad for you. I cried reading your story… but was so relieved at the end. As a mother myself, I share that same fear of labor. I wish you the absolute best with any possible future labors. I know you will be worried and scared; we will all be keeping you in our thoughts. Much love to you all.
Jenn says
Sherry, thanks so very much for letting us into your heart and sharing this story! I never post comments, but am an avid follower – so much so that I consider you guys friends. (Seriously, I give my husband updates about Clara & Sherry & John and he’s like ‘Do I know these people’!?) Sorry if that sounds weird, but just wanted to let you know, as a friend, that I’m sending you a giant virtual hug right now :)
I’m so very happy that everything turned out as it should be, that you have a precious little girl who you unconditionally love.
And I do hope you are able to enjoy the experiences of any future pregnancies. Its hard to have things out of your control but hope you can enjoy the ride :)
Amanda says
Amazing story! Brought me to tears! Probably doesn’t help that I’m pregnant and I’m now officially scared to death that something could happen to my bub!!
Happy Birthday to Clara and I hope everything in yur lives goes perfectly!!
Anne says
Thankyou both for sharing such a hard, personal part of your lives.
I know your next pregnancy won’t be without worry, but I hope and pray you are both able to enjoy it and look forward excitedly to meeting the next member of your family when the time comes.
Brie says
Wow! Amazing story! I have 3 friends that had abruptions at home in early labor (or on the way to the hospital) and sadly, only 2 of the babies survived. You have a gorgeous little girl! I have a Claire, so I love her name as well :)
One thing I’m curious about, it sounds like you had an epidural instead of GA? How did they get it in so fast? That’s awesome that you were able to be awake for the birth, I had a cesarean also (nothing traumatic like your experience) and was glad I was able to be there when my daughter came out. Congrats on your one year mommy anniversary!
YoungHouseLove says
Thanks to the body splitting pain, they gave me an epidural pretty much immediately when I arrived (before my water broke and the craziness began). I’m so thankful they did because otherwise I would have been knocked out completely and John couldn’t have been in the room for Clara’s birth at all.
xo,
s
Lindsey O. says
So thankful to you for sharing! I’m sorry for scary experience. You guys seem to have the perfect attitude about it all though. Our birth experience, although completely normal was not exactly what I envisioned. That’s ok though, I’ve learned because what matters is that my baby is here, safe, and healthy. The doctors ensured that for me. I find everyone around me irritated with the “hospital environment” and having the opinion that it’s all about the money with doctors. There also is this huge wave of people in my circle of friends in a frenzy to switch to birth centers rather than hospitals and swear off hospital birth forever….but I find myself completely thankful that we have such great care!! And your story is evidence of that great care!! How amazing that they just took action immediately and got you into the OR! Thank God that they were so “on it” as you said. I’m sure you had a difficult time writing this as I am tearful myself just reading it! Thanks for being so brave to share your emotion and fear!!!
Faye D. says
Sorry you had to go through that scary experience, but ‘am happy that the outcome was a positive, blessed one. ‘reminded me of my pPROM incident, which I survived too, by God’s grace. So grateful for life’s miracles. Advanced birthday greetings to Clara. She’s really so precious.
Ginger M. says
Wow, what a beginning! Congratulations and happy birthday Clara! So thankful for the outcome for each of you. I had to fight back tears as we are not far removed from a slightly similar pre-term birth experience at HDH. They are amazingly superb! I had placenta previa and spent a month in the hospital. Our baby was born at 33 wks and spent the first month in the NICU. That NICU staff is top-notch…they saved our baby too. What a miracle! Thank you for sharing your story.
Carol Adams says
I’m late in my reply here.. #2000???!!!
I experienced a prolapse/abruption with my now 21 y old daughter. Her brothers were 6 & 8 when she arrived so I was a little older, and was already considered high risk.
Im an RN but can so relate to the surreal way in which you process such trauma. Jill is a healthy college student so all went well but at the time, I KNEW just how lucky we all were to have her and for me to have survived!
The good thing is that you are aware and being high risk is not at all bad, as they will watch you closely from the very beginning!
Jilly “bean” was my last but I just wanted you to know how much I can relate even after all these years. As time passes and you have time to process it even more, you will be fine. You and John are “tight” and will most certainly have more beautiful “beans” in your future!
Much love from Indiana !!
Monica says
I’m so glad it all worked out so well. How blessed you are. We unfortunately weren’t so lucky. Much love on Clara’s first birthday!!!
YoungHouseLove says
I’m so sorry for your loss Monica.
xo,
s
emilyg says
Thank you for sharing your story! You’re an amazing couple and I appreciate your vulnerability.
Angie says
A very amazing story. I’m happy for you that it worked out right in the end. As scary as it was, just the idea that you are willing to do it all again shows what a strong faith you have in yourselves and your doctors. Hopefully the next one will be completely uneventful. Clara certainly made sure the world knew when she arrived. And yes, the image of John standing there alone in his scrubs made me tear up when I read it. And again when I read it to a friend at lunch.
Liz says
i work as a physical therapist in early intervention, so i hear about everything that can wrong in a birth. i will tell you that i had one little girl on my caseload whose mother had a placental abruption just as you did, after a perfect pregnancy. the mom has so far had two more pregnancies and births (planned c-sections at 37 weeks) with absolutely no complications. so happy for your outcome and your beautiful little one! (her smiles are awesome)
Christiana says
I just bawled my way through that entry. Oh my god. What a blessing, what a gift. It really makes me reconsider the appeal of the home birth scenario!
Thank you for sharing your story. I was long curious about what had happened and how Clara came into the world. You both are amazing people and clearly built up a lot of good karma for yourself. :)
Tiffany says
After my first delivery, I was SOOOOOOOO scared/excited/guilt-ridden for being scared/excited at the thought of being pregnant/having another baby. Does that make sense?
I got really real with God and said Look, I’m scared. But you know how much I want a child. Can you just take care of everything, so I can try and actually enjoy my pregnancy?????
And you know what, He did. And I did. My fear turned to joy. And yours will to I bet. Thank you for your honesty. I love you Sherry and your family!
Judi B says
I decided to take a break and get caught up on some blog reading and I knew when I started reading your post that I probably should save it for home reading and not afternoon break at the office. As a first time mom to be and a sympathizer in general I was crying in no time. Thank you for sharing so openly about your story. Sharing/speaking/writing your thoughts is so therapeutic and you can often inspire and encourage others. We all have a story to tell and it’s often being honest in telling our stories that we help others the most. The honesty of your fears in those moments, especially having such an awesome pregnancy to wondering where things went wrong in encouraging. You’re 100% correct in my book that it’s all about safe healthy baby. I’m one month away from my due date now and have been trying to talk through my fears and worries. Thank for keeping it real. You’ve got a beautiful baby girl and it would seem you lost nothing in the process. For the future plans for your family, having miscarried my first pregnancy I can say I faced this one with much trepidation, but I just have to remind myself to hold on to the hope that comes with the life growing in me. Talk to each other, cry if you need to and just enjoy each moment you get as a blessing. There are some really great resources here in RVA too for VBAC and all that when your ready so seek them out if that’s what you’re looking to do.
Meg says
Thank you for sharing. Harrowing story and a lovely, lovely little girl.
kristen says
This is an amazing story, and just shows how strong and blessed you two are. I’m a couple days late, but had to comment because I almost started crying at work just now upon reading it for a third time. I hope you all have a fabulous first birthday month full of happiness and blessings!
Lindsay says
I’m so sorry to hear of your scare, and I can see why it has taken this long to write. As a postpartum nurse, I know how horrific these types of complications can be – unfortunately.
I also know how John felt about not wanting to see what potentially could have been a very sad situation with Clara. My husband and I lost our first pregnancy at 20 weeks. In our case, it was a blessing in disguise but there is never an easy way to see the birth of your child, and your child not live (our daughter, who we named Madalynn, had passed away in utero).
Our second pregnancy was high risk from week 28 onward. After having lost Madalynn, I became what is called isoimmunized to a specific protein in blood – much like Rh, but not to Rh (its really complecated so I’ll spare the details). At this point I had to be on weekly blood draws to make sure my titers remained at the same level (all critical levels, but we needed to make sure they didn’t surge) and we had weekly dopplers of our baby’s brain on ultrasound to make sure she wasn’t becoming anemic (otherwise we would either deliver early or have an intrauterine blood transfusion). By 32 weeks I was in preterm labor, contracting like crazy (though I didn’t feel them) and was dilated to a 2, and 50% effaced! We managed to keep our sweetpea in until 37w5d, at which point my perinatologist said it was time to deliver – my titers were surging and we needed to make sure our kiddo came out as healthy as can be! April 5th 2011, at 1208 I had our sweet “little” daughter Kailyn naturally after 3 hours of labor (I was induced and still managed to have her naturally – yay!). She did experience a lot of jaundice but that was to be expected.
If we decide to have another baby, I’ll be high risk again, and have to begin the monitoring significantly earlier than we did with Kailyn. It’s a very scary place, but since our little one is only 3 weeks old, we have a long time to make a decision on whether or not we want to go through it again. Yes, “high risk” is scary, but pregnancy can be scary no matter what.
I’m so glad that things have gone so well for Clara and your family. Just take it day by day. Enjoy the sweet baby that she is, but don’t dwell to harshly on your delivery. Do exactly as what the end of your posting brought forth, cherish that you have your sweet daughter. Know that someone or something was watching over you and guiding you both out of a very scary situation.
Y3ll0Rose says
I cried when my baby had to grout under the bilirubin bed – and that was just a cautionary thing they did, and I am a medic myself so I knew there were no problems… That is when I felt my first pain of motherhood for my child – I can not imagine what you went through- you must be thankful to the Creator for giving your child such a precious gift as good health … Lots of love and happy b day to Clara – she is 4 months older than my baby ( also my first) x
Y3ll0Rose says
I meant *go under* !
Aimee says
I’m so glad you’ve shared, Sherry. It will make such a difference in your healing. I need to write out our first birth story again & put it on my blog…different complications, but Nicolas and I were also very close to death. And, unfortunately, Jason (my DH) was NOT allowed in the OR for my emergency c-section, because the epidural wouldn’t take, and I had to be put under. We have no photos of his birth experience. (Who would be prepared with a camera when they’re rushing your wife to the hospital in an ambulance at 28 weeks? My poor husband; I can’t believe what he went through.)
Anywho, congratulations on your miracle! And congrats to both of you for your strength during it all.
elizabeth says
me and clara share a birthday, and i just think she is such a beautiful little girl. taureans are fighters, and i see you’ve certainly got one of your own. i really enjoyed reading your story, and for a tough taurean myself, it’s hard to make me cry, but my empathy for you just aches, and I am just so happy that everything came together to give you the best outcome possible. a very overwhelming story, and I’m shocked you hadn’t mentioned it till now! randomly, i thought of you today (sorry, not creepy), and what had happened that you had mentioned in another post that you had to wait to have another baby. sending you hugs from new york – Elizabeth :)
clare Schlegel says
Crying after reading this. Prayers to you all and so so glad it worked out. Clara is amazingingly beautiful and perfect so it is hard to believe this happened but I know you know you are blessed.
xoxoo
Clare
marlene says
i cried thru this entire post. thanks so much for sharing with us.
Karen says
First off… I am SO glad I checked my iphone reader before I left for work today. I usually get a couple of minutes to read your post during my break at work. Whew!! I would have never made it though at my desk reading this. I cried from the start… and all the way through it. I waited until today to post my reply, and I am still weepy as I type this. You have written of your experience in such a beautiful way, and Clara will be very fortunate to have this when she is older. There is a span of 3 1/2 years from my daughter to my 1st son. I suffered 2 miscarriages, and a still birth between the birth of my daughter, and 3 sons.
I know the pain and frustration you tell of so beautifully and simply. I’ll never forget the pain I felt when at 26 weeks I was told that my baby ceased to live and grow inside of me. It was a little known virus that took her life, and left a whole inside of me. CMV. My doctor who was in practice for 30 years had never had an encounter with this virus, and it was only after an autopsy that they were able to determine the cause.
Go forward 20+ years, and I now have 4 beautiful children (2+ grandchildren), and yes, you will be apprehensive all throughout your next pregnancy, but you can do it… and things will be as they are planned to be, by one who knows better than us.
Thanks you again for sharing your birth story. It is empowering to many, and it makes us all love you even more.
YoungHouseLove says
I’m so sorry for your loss Karen. Your story and encouraging words along with so many others have been so amazing to hear.
xo,
s
caitlin says
amazing and scary at the same time- you may not have noticed, but as a person in the medical field, john had his face mask on backwards! hehe
YoungHouseLove says
No way! That’s hilarious. We never noticed and no one mentioned it. That shows you how quick he tossed it on! To funny.
xo,
s
Rosemary says
Thank you so much for writing this story. Your words hit so close to home. I wish I were brave enough like you to share my story, but emotions are still raw.
You are so very blessed to have such a beautiful family and such a happy life.
Leigh says
Thank you for sharing your story. I am sitting here crying my 32 weeks pregnant eyes out. I too skipped the scary parts of the pregnancy book because I don’t want to think about all the horrible things that can happen. My biggest fear is exactly what you said, going through all the joy and then coming home without a baby.
Thanks again Sherry. I can’t imagine how difficult this has been for you but you have an amazing little girl to show for it.
kristin says
I never knew until I gave birth last June what a miracle babies were, what a miracle healthy pregnancies are. Thank you for sharing your story. Must be leftover hormones, but I cried reading it.
Although my delivery was no where near as scary as yours, I remember thinking some of the same things – will everything be ok, will we get to take home a daughter or will there be a horrible twist. We didn’t realize til near the end that the cord was wrapped around my daughter’s neck and she was exposed to merconium. But by then, we had already had months of worry because of a tumor seen on her placenta. You better believe I demanded to see that placenta. I saw it before I got to hold my baby (who also took way too long to cry)
Celebrate that first birthday and hug that little girl. I know I will hug my baby after reading your post!
Susie says
WOW! Your post is so touching, and courageous on your part. Thank you for sharing your story. I am in tears just thinking what went through your mind when all you were hoping for was to have your beautiful child in your arms. I praise God that He took care of you and your family. God has an amazing plan for your family, and especially for Clara–in my eyes, she is God’s miracle.
Elizabeth says
No need to post this, I just saw this today and thought you might find it neat that one of the little bridesmaids at the Royal Wedding came into the world much the same way as Clara…
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lady_Louise_Windsor
Both fortunate princesses!
YoungHouseLove says
That’s so sweet. Clara is definitely the
princessqueen of our house, and I’m glad that little royal bridesmaid was ok along with her momma!xo,
s