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.
deena says
Wow. I’m in the wrecked South and haven’t had internet since Tues. Just catching up on your blog. What a harrowing experience, I was riveted reading it.
So glad it all worked out. What a miracle.
Ellen says
Wow, I just finally read this post.. what a scary experience. Brought me to tears. Clara seems like such a sweet and fun little girl, which I’m sure is reason enough to love her to bits, but with a birth story like that she really does seem like a miracle. I’m so glad everything worked out for you guys. Thanks so much for sharing, Sherry, and I hope it helped.
Amber McGinnis says
Oh my goodness. I was crying and on the edge of my seat reading your post about sweet Clara. What an impossibly scary delivery. As a mom of 2 little girls I can only imagine the emotions that were flooding over you. All babies are miracles and precious blessings from God but Clara is one of His strongest little angels. What a fighter she is and a strong and courageous mother you are. Happy early birthday to your little dear!
carla says
I had a placenta rupture. with My 4th child. I turned and felt a pop feeling, and was bleeding. And I know what you mean about you can just see on everyones faces that this is really wrong. All turned out fine. But the next pregnancy towards the end I was allot more careful about doing too much.
And When it was time to go into labor when I seen a little blood ( which was normal) I was off to the hospital right away. unlike with the previous 4 I waited at home for many hours. But I did want to tell you that I had 2 more babies after my complicated birth all natural and without issues. So don’t think it isn’t possible to have normal births after. And time will heal the raw emotions you feel but it will take awhile but that is ok. And you may never be able to talk about it without about crying , thats the mommy in us.
Erikka says
Like everyone else, tears sprang to my eyes as I read this. Your family is so blessed, and I’m so happy everything unlucky turned around and became a miracle. The part about John being in the hallway alone is so sad. I admire though, that you were thinking not just of the baby and yourself, but wanted him by your side as well. You guys really seem to be a remarkably close and loving family. Clara is so fortunate to be born to such admirable parents, and I believe that must be the reason why she clung to life that day. Thank you for sharing
Pamela says
My sister and BIL had serious difficulties with pregnancies, but eventually they had a beautiful little girl. A couple years after her birth I asked if they were planning to have any more. BIL replied, “I never want to see my wife go through that again.” Until that moment I had not given enough thought to the emotional trauma that can effect hubby/daddy. Here’s a special hug for John as you two build your most important DIY project–your family.
Lindsey says
I had the exact same thing happen just about 14 months ago with my first – a girl. And she is still bald, which probably has nothing to do with placenta abruptia, just a weird coincidence. Here’s to hoping we never have to go through that again!! But doesn’t it make you want to cry every time you look at your sweet girl and realize that you almost never met her?
YoungHouseLove says
Yes! Except now I’m getting teary all the time because she’s growing so fast! I can’t believe she’ll be a year old in two weeks! I’ve noticed that I think about the scary way that she entered the world a lot less over the past few months. It still definitely pops into my brain and freaks me out, but not as much. Which is probably good because when she’s a teenager she’ll be super annoyed/embarrassed if I cry every time I look at her. Haha.
xo,
s
Sheila Zeller says
Big hugs to an incredible little family.
Sherry, my daughter was born frank breech on an Island in a remote area (yes, a civilized Island!). We didn’t know she was breech until I was too far into labor to be medi-vaced out, and our tiny hospital was not equipped to perform c-sections. 2 weeks prior to my daughter’s birth a medi-vac plane had crashed coming for a woman in labour (don’t ask why I was still there!!!). The best they could do for me was try to slow my contractions while waiting 2 hours for a medi-vac team of specialists to fly in and perform an emergency c-section. 8 minutes before they arrived my very spirited daughter made her own way out, folded in half, butt first… kind of like she was saying ‘kiss my you-know-what world, here I come!’ There was no cry. She was whisked away and the medi-vac team (who had now arrived) took over working on her… I lay there watching them put needles into her tiny little head, and felt beyond helpless… I couldn’t do anything, didn’t know if she was going to be ok… you know exactly… The empathy I feel for you is kindred… So enough of my experience. What I really wanted to say is my daughter is a healthy 16 year old, and I had always planned to have more… but I never did. If you and John only ever have Clara it’s ok. Your story is incredible, and the healing is a journey… Every journey of a hundred miles begins with the first step… Thank you for sharing this step with us. More big hugs to all of you XO Sheila
kraftykay says
Thank you so much for shaing your story. Little Clara is truly an amazing miracle. I wish you courage for your future pregnancies along with easy and uneventful deliveries.
flynn says
You have a seriously charismatic and lovely kid there; though I don’t know you, I feel very happy even after such a frightening experience you still want to make more little ones. Thank you for sharing this – it’s so hard to know when you’re experiencing this sort of scariness that it’s happened to other family members and friends and mothers, and I do think it makes it easier. Congratulations on your lovely family.
Snickrsnack Katie says
Thanks so much for sharing this… I am crying reading it. I lost a baby almost two years ago to miscarriage and have never gotten completely over that loss… Losing a child is the worst pain anyone can ever experience. I am so glad your Clara is healthy and made it through and that you are ok. It really is a miracle of life!!
jja says
If I ever considered an idea (I did) to have birth at home, after this story I would never ever get my baby without doctors and modern medicine.
I am glad your story had a happy end!
Alyssa says
Wow… and I thought my congestive heart failure during birth was unfun… The only think I kept telling myself was thank goodness there is nothing wrong with the baby…I can’t even fathom going through what you went through. Thanks for sharing such an amazing story…
Kaylan says
This made me cry! I love a happy ending! I have a son just a few months younger than Clara but had a couple blighted ovums before actually conceiving. I had pretty much convinced myself that I wasn’t going to get pregnant, then did. Then I was so worried that something would happen to the baby (did I mention that I am a court reporter so I hear LOTS of med mal cases?) in delivery that I didn’t feel very attached to him. It took me about a month to really feel bonded.
Thank goodness for a happy healthy baby and mama!
Caitlin C says
I very rarely feel the urge to comment on the blog (despite my love), but felt compelled to share my sincere thanks for your sharing of this story. I couldn’t imagine the anguish you were feeling with all of the unknowns around you, especially not having John by your side. I couldn’t fathom not having my husband by my side during such an experience. I hope that putting this entry in your journal helps you on your journey to process the day’s events. Thank you again for trusting us with this moving story.
Sarah says
Sherry and John, you’re amazing.
Your story is incredible, and you are incredible.
I love the way you write, and your honesty is so admirable!
Bless you for sharing your story, and I pray that you are healed physically and emotionally, and that the next pregnancy will be stress/problem free.
I love you guys and younghouselove, keep it up :)
Sarah x
Ashley Keylor says
Oh precious girl…I wept as I read this. As a mom, I can so easily imagine the sheer terror you both felt…John standing in the hallway, fearing for both of his beautiful girls. It just breaks my heart. I am praising Jesus for your happy ending. I know that I would be the same way, nervous about future pregnancies, but I am also praying that He would ease your fears and allow you some joy in your next pregnancy.
Chelsea says
I remember your post last May when Clara was born, I was in the hospital pregnant with my little guy. My water broke at 27 weeks and I stayed in the hospital, praying without ceasing for 8 more weeks. It was the scariest thing we’ve ever gone through, I had a partial abruption as well. We also are so lucky and have a healthy, 11 month old. Praise God for his care and protection, and thanks for hospitals and doctors and nurses who know what to do when things go south!
Dawn says
The floodgates are officialy open!
What a precious gift was given to you when Clara came into this world and pulled through her first trial in life to be the healthy adorable blessing that she is.
God was surely looking out for you both on the day of her birth!
Andrea says
I had a similar experience when my daughter was born 3 years ago. My abruption actually happened at home, and it took abut 30 minutes to get to the hospital. Scariest time of my life because I had NO IDEA what was going on except that something was really horribly wrong. The searing pain in my back was horrific. I was rushed right into surgery, but begged the doc not to put me under because I had not felt the baby move since arriving at the hospital and they had a hard time finding her heartbeat. I just wanted to hear her cry and see her little face! When they got her out, she was purple and coated in blood. It seemed like forever before I heard her cry! She had to have some oxygen and be observed for a while, but was perfectly healthy, thank God! I, however, was hemorrhaging. The doc got it under control and closed me up and sent me to recovery, then a few hours later the nurses came in to check me and immediately ran my husband and family out of the room and called for the doc and anesthesiologist to come back…my ob pulled a blood clot out that was the size of a small melon. I had lost lots of blood….I remember very little from that time, except for looking over at one of the monitors in a durg-induced haze and seeing that my blood pressure was 63/37 and thinking I wouldn’t live to raise my daughter and her two brothers. After a couple of nights in ICU and several blood transfusions, I was ok though. I still didn’t realize how serious the situation was until my wonderful doctor came to check on me and sat down on the bed beside me and said “girl, you sure gave me a scare!”. He and my nurses were so wonderful…they saved my life and my little girl’s life! I am actually going back to school to be a nurse now because of them! I still have anxiety attacks sometimes when I think about what could have happened, but time definitely heals wounds, both physical and mental.
Anyway, sorry for such a long comment…just wanted to let you know that you are not alone in your feelings! It is a traumatic experience that I can definitely relate to! Just love and spoil that little girl and be thankful every day that she is healthy! Clara is very beautiful and the pics make me miss my Carrie being that small!!!
YoungHouseLove says
Oh my gosh how scary! So glad everything was ok!
xo,
s
alison says
hey, long time reader, don’t know if i’ve ever commented though because you guys are just so popular and seem to have a billion comments and i never feel like what i have to say is that important – more like “oh cool, neato”, ha!
Anyways, just wanted to comment now to thank you for this post, as hard as it probably was to write. I’m sure it gave perspective to a lot of people. It did for me. This having – or not having – kids thing is physical, emotional and all-giving and sometimes its so easy to just read a blog and from the outside look at someone’s perfect life, their perfect family and think how did they get so lucky? Things are definitely different in real life, as you’ve just exposed. We’ve been trying to have a baby for over a year and a half now and even on the blogs I read that aren’t about fertility, babies somehow make it into the scene :) (And understandably, they’re amazing miracles!) Sometimes its so easy to think that everyone’s life is without sacrifice. Thanks for the reminder that its not, maybe it just looks different than your own. I’m really glad everything went well that day and that you three are together to keep smiling and making us smile through this blog, even if the truth scares us and makes it a little difficult at times. We probably can never be as carefree as we may have been when we didn’t know better, but its still important to try!
Hope that wasn’t too Debbie Downer, I really meant it :)
Heather with a C says
I was out of town last week so I’m catching up. I couldn’t help but comment on this post. A little over a year ago we welcomed our baby boy via an unplanned c-section too.
I went into labor on my own at 41 weeks, 1 day (the day before I was scheduled to be induced). I had an exceptionally easy and healthy pregnancy and labor started out very easy. After an hour of pushing with no success, the OB recommended a c-section. I was crashing and they could tell that the baby’s stats weren’t great, so they didn’t want to chance it by trying to push longer.
My husband was in his last year of medical school at the time, so luckily he wasn’t too scared because he had seen many babies be born many different ways, and had even packed his own OR scrubs “just in case.”
Once our baby was born, it was obvious why a c-section was necessary. Our baby who had been measuring normal, who was only estimated to be 8.5 lbs when I was admitted to the hospital, was a giant baby. Weighing in at 11 pounds, 8 ounces, the poor tot had gotten stuck on the way out.
In fact, our baby was so big that no one announced the baby’s gender. All anyone said was how big the baby was. I had forgotten that I didn’t know the gender because we wanted to be surprised. After some time, my husband came over and told me that our giant baby was a boy.
After getting a quick peek at him, he was taken away to begin an antibiotic treatment because the OR team was worried he might have an infection. I was sent to recovery where I was monitored for an infection too and waited for my blood pressure to drop. My husband was with me, but our baby was all alone. It was 3 hours before we were finally reunited as a family.
I can sympathize with how sad you felt for John while he was all by himself waiting to come in the OR, not knowing what was going on. To this day I still feel terrible thinking how the first 3 hours of my little boy’s life he was all alone in the nursery. It breaks my heart just thinking about it. Since I planned to breast feed, he wasn’t given any bottles to appease his newborn hunger. So there he was, brand new in the world, confused, lonely, and hungry.
I’ll probably end up having a c-section with any future children too. Since I grew one giant baby, I’m likely to grow another. I feel okay about getting a c-section in the future. While it’s not ideal, I feel like it will be a lot easier of an experience having it be something planned, not an emergency situation. What weird’s me out though is the idea of “picking” my child’s birthday.
At the end of the day, it’s not how your baby was born that matters. All that matters is that our babies are healthy, happy, cute as can be, and we ourselves are healthy too.
Happy Birthday little Clara!
Michiganhome says
Blessed, she is.
Heather says
Wow! Thanks for sharing your story. I had my first this last year too, and experiencing childbirth changes you no matter how it happens. God really protected you and Clara. What a blessing. I pray that your next will be a joyful pregnancy, and that as time goes by you will come to enjoy Clara’s birth story rejoicing in the miracle that she is! Smooch.
Lena says
This had me crying for most of it, no wonder it took you this long to put it all down. How lucky you all are that out of that crazy, scary day you’re all healthy and happy. And here.
Kristin says
Look how you were protected, Sherry. Look how your sweet baby girl was protected. Rest in that! Dwell on that! No amount of worrying, fear or anxiety would have changed that or will change anything in the future. So don’t let it creep in, don’t dwell on those thoughts or fears for one moment! Look at your little miracle and how she was protected, and there’s no reason that won’t happen again. Have faith, you are LOVED! I lost my first little girl and almost lost my next two, but you know what helped me? Not fear or anxiousness or worrying about every little pain, those only wasted my time and my emotions. What helped was trusting in what I knew, that I was loved (despite my circumstances) and protected (despite this cruel and unfair world). So remember what is true and believe that miracles can happen over and over and over! Keep sharing your story, for yourself so you can heal, and for others so they can be enouraged. Thanks for sharing with us.
justy says
This brought tears to my eyes. So happy things turned out OK- Clara is such a beautiful, happy looking little girl!
Glennie says
Bless xx
Shan says
Hi Sherry and John!
Thanks for sharing the story of Clara’s birth. I moved to a pretty liberal area (especially in terms of birthing) during our first pregnancy, and have seen amazing results come out of our experience with midwives. They recommended a lot of educational and inspirational reading while pregnant, but one that sticks out in my mind for you is anything by Ina Gaskin. She’s a pretty famous midwife who has done a lot of work with “high-riskers” seeking VBAC. I wish you luck as you continue your journey as parents, and hope that you have a great team of supportive people around you when (and if) you decide to become parents again.
also, Happy Birthday Clara!
jane andreassen says
I’ve thought about this post many times since I first read it. I loved it for many reasons. But mostly because it validated the importance of all of our birth stories… dramatic or not. Thankyou so much.
Hannah says
Hi, we have been traveling so I am very late to this party and haven’t read all the comments. I wanted to chime in on the very remote possibility that no one else had mentioned follow-up testing. I had multiple placental abruptions during my first pregnancy (like you, without any apparent risk factors or warning signs) and other serious complications so I know how scary it is. Anyway, you guys are obviously on the ball and have talked with your ob about future pregnancies, but if you haven’t consulted with a perinatologist and a hematologist yet, it might be very helpful. I did, and discovered that I had some genetic mutations related to blood clotting that caused the abruptions. In my next pregnancy, I took blood thinners and had no related complications. Equally important, seeing someone who specializes in high-risk pregnancies gave me some peace of mind; he could quantify the risks I faced, knew exactly what warning signs to look for, was sensitive to the emotional needs of scared pregnant women since virtually all of his patients had had previous bad experiences, and had a cautious/paranoid mind-set that was exactly what I needed.
Anyway, off my soapbox/commercial for perinatologists. So glad everything turned out so well for you and your lovely daughter, and will keep my fingers crossed that future pregnancies are healthy & drama-free.
YoungHouseLove says
Thanks so much for the suggestion! I definitely plan to get a referral from my OB at my next appointment. I’d love to know if there are any underlying issues that can prevent issues in the future!
xo,
s
Kim says
I’m so glad that both you and Clara were OK. It’s so beautiful how you thought first of Clara, and I hope I can be that strong someday. Happy birthday to Clara and congratulations on a great first year with your beautiful little girl. Your gratitude and love for her shines through in all of your posts.
Nuha says
oh my goodness, no wonder you’ve been so anxious to talk about it! I’m really happy that in the end, you did get the happy ending you were waiting for. And you got a super cute and healthy Clara. Thanks for sharing this, we’ll be here for moral support with kiddo #2 :)
Rita says
I’m sitting here in tears, feeling a bit guilty that both of my pregnancies were so straightforward, while people like you and your husband, and many others have a much harder road to walk.
I’m very happy that things worked out OK in the end, and your beautiful little girl is going so well, but totally understand your apprehension about going back for a second try. My pregnancies were textbook, and I’m terrified at the thought of going back for another one, just in case my luck has run out :o
Wishing you both all the best for your baby’s first birthday, and the celebration of your first full year as parents – And if you do decide to go back for a second bubba, may God bless you with a sickness and complication free pregnancy xx
patty says
Wow….. I havent commented on your blog since it was just a little baby blog. I’ve enjoyed seeing your adventures unfold. This adventure had me tearing up. Your story (nightmare) was well written and I hope cathartic. That pic of Clara that you start with — omg — isn’t she the cutest?? I am so sorry that her birth wasn’t the happy go lucky one you hoped for, but so glad you both are okay.
Thank you for sharing your story.
p.
Jamie says
You guys rock in SO many ways! This is just one of them. Thank you for your story, Sherry. You’ve helped a lot of people just by sharing!
Jessica Wheeler says
Wow. I can see why you waited so long to talk about that to the rest of us. I had no idea that your birth experience was so scary. Much love to all of you on Clara’s upcoming b-day. :)
Ali says
Hey Sherry,
How crazy. And traumatic. And scary. It’s hard when the day of your child’s birth ends up being one of the most horrifying days of your life. Thank you for sharing your story.
Our second son has Prader-Willi syndrome and we had an eventful birth at 35 weeks. I went in for a regular check-up that turned out to be anything but. He almost didn’t make it. I think of that day all the time. And during my next pregnancy, I *was* terrified. But I made it. And we have another little boy who is perfectly happy and healthy. Anyway, I hope that sharing that is some encouragement to you.
In the meanwhile, like you said, you get to enjoy some more time with your sweet Clara just as she is. :)
Ali
Tina Pietila says
I just read this as I’ve finally gotten time to catch up. I have to say as a mother of two, I cried the entire time I was reading. You never know how strong you are until you are a mom! You have a beautiful, healthy little girl who is truly a blessing. Never ask yourself “Why?” just know it is “because”. Your future babies to come will be fine, I have faith that they will. And the best part is you will be prepared. Hug that little girl, after telling the story of her birth you need it!!!
Shayla says
I don’t comment much but had to leave one here…I cried painful and joyous tears (here in my office!) while reading this story. Thank you for sharing your story, it makes me love you guys and that precious baby girl that much more…she is a miracle and such a fighter. God was certainly with you that day and I’m so happy for you and your family that everything turned out ok…that baby girl of yours is so precious, I have to admit that I visit the blog more to see precious pictures and videos of your baby girl than your renos! You are all amazing and I hope you have a fabulous Mother’s Day :)
Mandy says
That is a beautiful and terrifying story. I say beautiful only because you had such a wonderful end result. I had no idea y’all had such a hard time with Clara’s birth. As a mom of 2, I was very touched and brought to tears by your birth story. Thank you for sharing- I’m sure that was incredibly hard to rehash and re-remember all of that. Clara is adorable, and I love seeing her grow along with your home.
K. Anne says
Reading your birth story brought tears to my eyes. Clara is a little miracle.
Melissa says
Oh my, I completely understand why it’s taken you so long to write and share Clara’s birth story! You are a very strong woman and she is lucky to have you as her mother. I am so happy to hear that she is growing up to be a happy, healthy little girl. You and your family are very blessed.
Heather says
I’m so glad you had such a great team of docs and nurses to take care of you and Clara and John. I’m sure they’ll be there for your next pregnancy, too (only hopefully not as many of them around you during delivery) :^). Technology and tests are getting better every day, and with a watchful OB and some extra appointments I’m sure your next pregnancy will go well and end in a much less dramatic delivery.
Thank you for sharing. Best wishes for a wonderful mother’s day!
Anna says
What a story. Thank you so much for sharing. It gives people facing adverse situations hope in their dark moment knowing that someone else made it through just fine.
I just thought I would relate my family’s stories to try to help give you some peace of mind in the future.
My birth (literally my own – I was the baby) was similarly dramatic. I was born a ‘blue baby’ with an initial Apgar of 2. My mum hasn’t told me all the details but mentioned emergency c-section, a team of 12 specialists being rushed from another hospital, blood on the ceiling and nurses in the room on their knees praying (!). My dad talks about the longest 4 minutes of his life as they worked on me and the nurse stood to the side counting “one minute….two minutes…”. I was still blue at the 4 minute mark and ‘perfectly pink’ (as he put it) at the 5 minute mark.
I was born in a small maternity hospital in a city and a few years ago actually met, by chance, the Sister who had been in charge of the hospital 25 years earlier when I was born. I said to her “oh, I was born in your hospital! Maybe you’d remember my mum…” She cut me off; “Now dear, there were thousands and thousands of babies born at that hospital…”. I started describing my mum (which is easy – redhead with an accent) and she looked at me stunned; “Oh YES, I remember that one!” she said. She was AMAZED that my mum went on to have another 2 babies.
Which brings me to my mum. She ended up having two more babies after me (4 and then 3 yr gap – little bro and little sis!). She had a natural birth and then a scheduled c-section. She didn’t have the same issues and drama again with the next two. She was advised not to try for more babies but of course never does what she is told and seemed to take great delight in proving the medical establishment wrong. Twice.
Me, well we always joke about how brilliant I could have been without the brain damage (I have a degree in Pure Mathematics, Masters in Finance…most people would consider me fairly switched on).
xx
YoungHouseLove says
Wow- I can’t believe she remembered your birth! So glad everything was ok and your mom went on to have two more healthy beans!
xoxo,
s
Katrina says
Hi John and Sherry
I was moved to tears with Clara’s birth story. And cannot even begin to imagine what you must have felt experiencing all that. Yet I am so inspired by your positivity and how you’re so grateful to the doctors for doing such a great job and for being joyful at Clara’s having made it. My mom was in labour for a very long time with me but she made sure that I knew that I made her suffer from as early as I can remember. And I’ve lived a very apologetic life because of that. But things are changing.
You guys are such an inspiration to me. I’m engaged to be married on the 4th Jan 2012 and I also plan to dye my wedding dress. Plus I love how you’ve turned your house into a home. I’ve taken so much from you blog and am using it in our wedding planning as well as organizing and decorating our tiny apartment. You guys are a real blessing!
Robin S says
Wow, thank you so much for sharing this story. After reading it I can completely understand why it would be so difficult for you to talk about.
I’m so glad that you and Clara are both okay!
You were a beautiful pregnant woman, by the way.
Chris says
Reading this brought back lots of memories from my own similar birth experience. My oldest “baby” just turned 25 and is expecting his first baby. I had planned C-sections with the rest of my children…wonderful and drama-free! It’s been many years and I still cry when I think about how close I was to losing my baby. Thanks for sharing!
Anna says
Thank you for sharing this story. I gave birth in February this year. I was in hard labour for 24 hours and then had an emergency c-section. I found it so traumatic I can’t remember whole sections of my labour. I do look at my daughter and think how surreal it is that I have a child because I feel like I didn’t give birth. Intellectually I know that everything turned out well and that a healthy mum and bub is the main goal. But I do feel sad and still in shock over it all. Reading your story helps. Thank you.
Jocelyn says
This post made me cry because it reminded my of my son’s birth. I remember that frantic “Please, please cry. Please live!” moment. My son was born with an APGAR score of 1, but miracles of miracles he is a brilliant, healthy 2 year old today. Such a blessing!