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.
Lilly says
Oh my! (sigh) I just had my second little girl last wk on the 27th I must have missed about 20 of your entries and it felt like for ever before I could catch up things get hectic when a baby arrives. I can’t believe u posted this post this week. I so glad that u opened up and are getting closure. I was just reading and when u said John was left in the hallway alone that’s when i started to cry too because I could picture him as my husband left in the dark wondering what he was wondering. And when they [told u that Clara wouldnt cry and that’s when u cried for her] also brought me to great tears. You are very strong and very lucky to have Clara and she’s so healthy and beautiful God bless her, you and John. I am also happy that nothing happened to u, I know that John must feel like the luckiest man on earth to have his two beautiful and healthy girls with him because for a couple of minutes he probobly wasnt even sure if he would have either of u 2. All four of you are blessed to have each other, yup even Burger (he’d go nuts w/o u) and blessed to be a healthy beautiful family. Thank you so much for sharing your amazing birth story, i think you guys touch your readers hearts everyday and on this day most, I know u touched mines. But that’s enough I am super hormonal right now just had my little angel 8 days ago n I shouldn’t even b reading things like this (lol). Wow u made me cry. But that’s ok some emotional tears from feeling ur pain n some happy tears from cn ur outcome.
Kelly says
Wow you guys. What an amazing story! I had tears in my eyes reading it. So happy and grateful it turned out well (and that you and Clara are healthy.)
Big hugs for you all!
Many blessings,
Kelly :-)
Michele says
I sobbed for you reading that. I can’t even imagine. I’m so thrilled you got your happy ending and that there will be more in the future.
Alissa says
You are an incredibly strong woman, thank you so much for sharing your story. I think it’s normal to be scared and it’s good that you’ve recognized that about yourself. I’m so happy that you and your baby both made it through such a scary ordeal.
Happy Mother’s Day!
Janice says
Thank you for sharing this frightening, courageous, and in the end joyous day with us. I am moved and in tears. It has been wonderful to see Clara grow this past year and the love you and John have for her is positively tangible. Congratulations and Happy Birthday to your sweet little beanette.
Alisa says
I am a NICU nurse in Northern VA, but also a young mom who had a high risk pregnancy (my baby is now 17 months!). Your story really touched my heart, especially as I read it today, Mother’s Day, and I’m at work. You are a very strong person and I’m so incredibly happy things turned out so well! Clara is gorgeous!
Life in Rehab says
I know you’ve already gotten 2000+ well wishes, and I usually don’t comment anymore just due to the sheer number of comments you have to read each day. but this post got me. Don’t let yourself think for a minute that this is how all of your births will be. Each is one of a kind, unique, and fantastic. Think how much more you treasure that little girl now, and how her feisty spirit was defined from the first. You can tell from her face this was a battle she was going to win.
Samantha says
Hi guys! I just read Clara’s birth story and it reminded me so much of our own! I also had a placenta abruption.. Twice. They say if you have one, you are likely to have another, and if you have two, well.. you’re doomed. I hope you have better luck with your second baby! Our second was in worse shape than our first so I dont think we’ll be trying again, sad face! I’m so glad everything worked out for you guys, you are such a cutesy family! Take care.
Ionica says
Thank you so much for writing about this. I can understand that it took almost a year before you could do it. The image of John waiting in scrubs was heartbreaking. I am still crying.
The birth of our son was a similar nightmare (which also ended well thanks to great doctors and nurses) and reading your story made me realize that I am still not over it.
I can imagine your anxiety for a next pregnancy. I do hope you and John will get another lovely Beanie and that John can help you to relax when you get pregnant.
Sara says
Wow! Wow wow wow! How scary and wonderful! What an awesome perspective this experience must have given you! I was actually watching All My Children and I saw that this scenario occurred… only with a different outcome. It was the first time I’d heard of a placental abruption. As a future mom, I thoroughly appreciate you sharing this amazing story!
Claire says
What an amazing story! I’m at work reading this and fighting tears! We had our baby girl in December and I can’t imagine if anything would have happened to her. So glad that your story had a happy ending!
Wylie says
This was a very beautiful post. Thank you for sharing. I hope that it helped you to heal as you wrote it.
My eldest daughter, 30, just had her first baby, my first grandchild. After inducing her and allowing her to labor for 30 hours and then push for 3, they decided the baby was in distress, and did a section. The baby is fine, thank God. She is 3 1/2 months old, and absolutely beautiful. Her name is Ida Rose. I pray every day that my daughter will be able to put the horror of the delivery behind her. She was so traumatized. She is in love with this miracle baby. I just hope that she, too, can heal not be afraid to go through another pregnancy. Thanks again for sharing your story. It was incredible. Birthday blessings to your gorgeous baby.
Christie says
Sherry, your story touched me so much. What a scary experience, and I am so glad that ultimately you were so lucky! It is no surprise that you waited so long to tell the story and that you are scared (petrified) of the second. I wish you the best of luck! Stay strong!
Meredith says
This made me cry – sad then happy tears. Thank you for sharing this. What a lucky little girl to have you both for parents :)
Sara says
I also had a traumatic delivery with my first baby (now 6). The worry actually started at her 20 week ultrasound when she was flagged for having abnormal brain development. I can really sympathize with you about the feelings of “why me?” and “lucky me!” because she has gone on to prove all of the doctors and specialists wrong — she is healthy and “normal.” It took me a long time to get over her pregnancy and birth and I, too, worried about having similar problems if I got pregnant again. We decided that she was lonely for a sibling, though, and that we would love the baby no matter what, so we did, in fact, have another baby exactly 3 years later. That pregnancy and delivery were the exact opposite in how smooth they were and really brought me a sense of peace and closure. The three year spacing is really nice and we even went on to have a third baby (also a healthy pregnancy and delivery, although the baby was born in shock and so we had that horrible silence that you described so accurately). I guess this was just a long-winded way of trying to offer some comfort that subsequent deliveries have as good a chance as any of being drama-free and joyful. The silver lining to an experience like the ones we have had is that it makes us very conscious of enjoying every day and being thankful for every moment we have together.
Stephanie says
I had a placental abruption too…very rare…I had just received pain meds though so it thinned my blood…I was also an emergency as I was bleeding to death…airlifted out to a bigger hospital and our little “Lily” to the NICU as I read your story it mirrored our emotional trauma…I agree with your friends in writing it down…it helps the healing process…our daughter is 3 1/2 yo and it still chokes me up to think of her birth day…we are very thankful for her life as well as mine to be able to share it together…she has had no complications and is a very healthy little girl…thanks for sharing your story…Happy Birthday Clara!
Pip says
Wow.
An amazing miracle. Thank you for sharing!
Clara is such beautiful little girl and is so blessed to have you and John as parents :) hope her party went well.
Zoe says
Thanks for sharing your story.
OXOXOXOXOXOXOooooooxoooo!
Laine says
I don’t know if you will even get to this comment since there is so many, but your story and my birth story with my second child are very similar. My 2nd pregnancy was extremely complicated in which I had a blood clot completely surrounding my amniotic sac. This was the case from 15 weeks and on. I was told every. single. week that I would probably miscarry him anytime and it was a very slim chance he would even make it to 24 weeks. Well, my water broke at 28 weeks. They did all the usual preterm labor protocol and after about 1 1/2 days they thought I would be okay to just hang in the hospital until he was bigger. Long story short, two days after my water broke I went into labor and during my labor I also had a placental abruption. His heartrate was 40 when they realized I had it. Then the doc said “Let’s go” and rushed me to the OR. It was 11:35 when we left L&D and it was 11:38 when he was born. Amazing. I can completely relate to all you described. The rush to the OR, my husband standing and watching me from the hallway, the tension in the OR..and my husband was never allowed to come. But my son, although very tiny, 1 lb. 15oz. did well despite the circumstances and he then went on to spend 10 weeks in the NICU. But he now is almost 6 years old and is amazingly healthy.
Just a word of encouragment…there are four years between my 2nd and 3rd children and with my third I had a great, uncomplicated pregnancy. Had a VBAC delivery and all was wonderful.
Happy Birthday to your miracle baby and thanks for sharing your story!
YoungHouseLove says
So glad he’s a healthy six year old now and that you went on to have a great uncomplicated pregnancy! Stories like these are great to hear. Thanks for sharing!
xo,
s
Erin says
Sherry & John,
What a story- thank you so much for sharing. I came upon your blog a little over a year ago while I was looking for wedding ideas. I have since fallen in love with the site! I appreciate that you were brave enough and ready to share this awful/awesome experience. I have just lost my first baby to a miscarriage, and although this isn’t a completely parallel situation it both re-broke my heart and gave me hope for the future! Blessings to your beautiful family!
YoungHouseLove says
Oh Erin I’m so sorry for your loss. Thinking of you.
xo,
s
Bryony says
First: you’re an amazing lady to put all of that out there. I really hope it helps. It’s always impressive when someone can go through an experience like that and come out stronger (even if you’re always a bit more worried than you would have been).
Second: three years is nothing. My sister and I are 3 years apart and we’re the best of friends. My mom’s pregnancy and birth with her are my first memories, so maybe it will be the same for Clara!
Thanks for sharing this story. It is scary to read, being pregnant, but it’s also reassuring that even the most insanely frightening situations can turn out alright.
Eilene says
I’m new to this blog and I can’t tell you how much I’m in love with it already. Last night I took about a billion mental notes of all the things I’d love to do to my home. (What’s sleep?) With that said… Your birth story sounds just like mine from last March. It’s heartbreaking, but I have to say that there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t thank my lucky stars that he’s still here with us. Thanks for sharing everything, and thanks for the inspriation to make my home reflect the joy we feel. So glad it worked out beautifully for both of us!
Elise says
I had my little girl relatively easily 4 weeks ago, and when I first started to read your post in April, I knew I had to postpone it. Well today was the day, and I admit I sobbed through most of it. You have lived the nightmare, and I admire your courage coming through it. I pray that the same angels keep watching over Clara and any future pregnancies you may have.
Andrea says
I’ve really enjoyed following your blog and I love getting to ‘know’ you and your family. And, this was an extra-touching post.
As a spiritual-but-not-religious person, I do a lot of praying and thinking about people I know (and also those I don’t). Unknowingly, you were in my prayers at the time of Clara’s birth. I have a friend who, a few years ago, was literally just a few days away from having her 2nd son and she suddenly felt terrible labor pains/cramps. She immediately called her doctor, rushed to the hospital and was quickly admitted, but despite the swift moving doctors and nurses, it was too late for little baby Oliver. My friend had suffered a placental abruption as well. Since that devastating conversation with her, it’s made me think about all those mothers out there ready for their baby’s arrival; those that are lucky enough to bring home their beautiful baby and all those who are not.
I’m glad you were one of the lucky ones, and Clara is all the more lucky to have such caring, loving, worried, care-free, creative, responsible, and blogging parents like you.
Thank you for sharing!
Heather says
I haven’t bawled this much in a long time! Thank you for sharing your intense story. I also had a traumatic first birth, but compared to yours, it seems like a cakewalk! It took me a long time to get over the emotional scars and I didn’t think I could have another child. Before the birth, we were planning to have 2 children 2 years apart. Finally, I decided to just take the leap and almost 3 years apart, we had our girl #2. The second birth was fantastic and just before pushing, I actually said “I think I can do this again!” The midwives said, out of hundreds of births, they never heard anyone say this at that stage in the birth (drug free). I am so happy I made the leap and I have 2 beautiful girls. The best thing about it all though, is that one day if they are going to have children, I can look them in the eye and tell them that giving birth can be ok.
By the way, I just discovered your blog and love it!
Kirra Ferguson says
My heart broke while reading your birth story.
I think it’s because I can sort of relate.
My son had meconium aspiration and went into distress while I was in labour on his due date. He stopped breathing and his heart stopped so I was rushed for an emergency c section under a general anaesthetic. He needed full resuscitation and we were only told “the baby is very sick”.
I met him 8 hours after his birth for a very short 5 minutes while the doctors were prepping him to fly to the closest NICU 700km away with my husband.
My little man suffered a brain injury called HIE basically a brain injury caused by lack of oxygen to the brain.
Although my little man is one of the lucky one who hasn’t suffered any disabilities or developmental problems.
Our babies are such precious little miracles from Heaven.
God bless your little family <3
YoungHouseLove says
Oh Kirra I’m so glad your little man is ok! What a scary ordeal.
xo,
s
Mary says
I read this when you first posted it, but it took me this long to comment. I’m a medical student with a future in Ob-Gyn. Having worked in L&D, I’ve seen some pretty horrible things. Emergency c-sections are always the scariest. It really is amazing how quickly everyone can get into place and get that baby out while still following safety precautions and standard protocol (i.e. not slicing you open in the hallway without anesthesia). I witnessed an event similar to yours. The baby was taken into the resuscitation room next to the OR. Since I was just a student and not scrubbed into surgery, the only way I could think of to help was to grab the dad’s camera, take a picture of the baby, and bring it back to show the worried parents. Your first family photo reminds me of that, and I’m sure the people in the room with you that day will not easily forget those few moments. They will remember you when you have your next baby! Thank you so much for sharing your story. You already know this, but you and Clara (and John and Burger) are SO lucky. Much love!
Lindsay says
Sherry, I saw this link on my best friend’s blog (Cuffed for Life) and I am so moved by your account of this. I am about to start my 4th and final year of an OB-GYN residency and I vividly remember the first cord prolapse and the first placenta abruption that I diagnosed (thankfully in 2 different people) and took to an emergancy c-section. I remember what the fetal heart rate looked like for each, the tears in my patient’s eyes and the look of terror on the fathers’ faces. You articulated so well the sense of helplessness and fear that the fathers go through when we have run out of the room with their partner and unborn baby to go to surgery with hardly any explination at all because there just is not enough time — because the seconds really do matter and as the doctor, you are just praying to God that you are fast enough to get this baby out NOW. You go into complete clinical mode and pull on all of your training to deliver as fast as possible. I have done multiple emergency c-sections since then – and we did have to remove one woman’s uterus at the time because of such extensive bleeding – but I think as physicians we all still have a little PTSD from our first emergent situations. It does take a long time to process what happened and you will probably continue to ask “why.” I’m sure your doctors have told you that there is absolutely no way you could have prevented what happened and that you are so strong to have responded the way that you did. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your courage in retelling your story. It helps more people than you know to hear how quickly things can vere off the “plan” and how ultimately, a healthy mom and healthy baby it the goal. I am so glad that you had such a wonderful outcome and I hope that your next pregnancy will be much less eventful. Happy be-lated birthday to your adorable little girl!
adriana says
my son scored a 0 on the agpar, then a 3. a very similar situation to yours altho i didnt have a c section. it was the most terrifying moment of my life. i wrote about his birth.
http://www.justbyliving.com/2010/01/my-birth-story-part-1-of-2.html
i had a hard time talking and dealing with it after wards but it does get better. im a lucky one too and my son is just fine (from what we can tell) and i thank my lucky stars every damn day.
Liz says
Sherry, my heart goes out to you. My first pregnancy and birth was picture perfect. My second was perfect up until the time my water broke (in my case it was meconium, not blood). I have my little daughter now but she has a multitude of issues that we’re still working on. I really want another baby and I too am petrified. Hugs.
Chrissa says
Wow.
I purposely waited to read this, I admit it.
When you first posted it, for some reason I was just plain scared. I know it’s silly, but you begin to feel like you know you. We hear your voice, hang out in your living room, spend time in your baby girl’s room. We’re greeted with her smile nearly every day, since she was born, so reading this and thinking, “Hey, that is my friend that went through this” really choked me up.
I went into labor with my now 10 year old son, Blake, when I was 26 weeks along. I had been enjoying a pretty decent pregnancy-once the absolutely horrible morning sickness wore off-but I was in labor for nearly two full days before they stopped it. I was scared to death. Luckily, a horrible 48 hrs of magnesium sulfate, my contractions stopped and I was allowed to go home regulated to bed rest for a full month. I felt responsible because his father and I hadn’t expected this and he wasn’t very “gung ho” about our baby. When it happened I was working 40 hours a week at my full time job, and an additional 20 hours at Linens N’ Things to try to help with the down payment on our first house. Piled on that stress from his father.I went back to work and made it straight through until the day he was due.
My son finally arrived on his due date, July 16th. In fact, both of my OBGYN’s had went out of town for the weekend because they assumed he’d be late. He was 22inches long and 9.5lbs. He was SO very long, so alert, and when they gave him to me, he looked right at me, eyes wide open. He knew who I was. He stayed awake with me, could hold his head up and has been surprising me with his witty rhetoric ever since.
As I read this, I cried all over again for how alone I was, and how hard the entire experience was until I left his father when he was 2, but also, I cried for John, in the hallway, while his life was down the hall completely at the hands of people he did not know. I thanked God for saving you both, and for John.
I will read your posts now in an entirely new way, grateful for each one, and each day you have together. Hopefully I won’t cry ;)
But, at least now I know why I waited so long to read this. Right now he’s not feeling well so he’s sleeping on the couch across from me so I can listen to him breathe to make sure he’s alright. When I finished I got up and kissed his forehead, so grateful for him, and that he was close enough for me to touch at this very moment.
xo
ruth says
oh man, i just had a good cry reading this. just be comforted in knowing that even if a baby is born very early, there is still a chance of survival. i know a lady who went into labor at 21 weeks back in january, and the doctors said he would not make it out of the OR. then they said he would not live. they had him on DNR for months… and here he is 6 months later, still fighting. i know it’s a miracle. but it happens. it IS possible. and you guys are obviously fighters! congratulations on your beautiful baby girl!
Estelle says
Wow. Wow. Wow. You maintained that blog while trying to recover from this traumatic event. It also too me a year to come to term to the feelings of giving birth 6 weeks early, 1 month at the NICU where parents were treated just OK by my book. After a year, I wrote a 5-page letter to the hospital to just let it all out and finally move on. The hospital apologized for how we were treated and I could finally move one – for me, for my daughter, for us. It was so hard. I always thought I’d have 2 kids close in age but it’s not going to happen, for a reason other than the prematurity. That’s just how it is. Life does not really care about our plans, I find, and all we have at the end is gratitude for everything we were handed. Hope you feel better.
Courtney says
What a story! I completely understand your apprehension on the second pregnancy. My firstborn was premature and spent nearly 3 weeks in NICU – the first week being a very serious situation. I waited two years before getting pregnant again as close pregnancies can increase several risks, including prematurity. I didn’t prepare a nursery or even find out gender with my second (I think in an effort to try to distance myself, but that’s just not possible when they’re dancing inside of you). He came 10 days late and was perfect and I finally felt like my wounds were healing. I don’t believe there’s anything that can ease the apprehension you will experience during another pregnancy after such a scare, but I wish you a wonderfully boring delivery when the time comes – it may finally heal your wounds.
Alison says
Sherry,
Thank you so much for sharing. You are so brave, and I”m so glad and grateful with you that both you and Clara made it.
My son will be a year old in about three weeks, crazily enough, and I can completely identify with your need/desire to wait before sharing how Clara was born. I had planned on having a natural birth, but gestational diabetes (runs in the family) + a breech baby made for a planned C-section. All went perfectly for us, but I still had a lot of grief about having had surgery, of not having Isaiah on my chest instantaneously, of having had to wait a few minutes to see his face as they got him breathing steadily.
All that to say that beyond all the hype and advertising and mom-blogs of perfect births, we have the real-life births that made my husband and I (and you two, I read here) really frickin glad that modern medicine exists, and that good doctors take action when needed.
Congratulations on your beautiful miracle girl, and thanks again for sharing.
Hugs,
Alison
ps – I stumbled on your blog from Better Homes & Gardens:)
Jessie says
You are so very blessed to have such a happy ending. I was 10 when my brother was born and pronounced clinically dead. My mother had had a placental abruption just as you did. Her c-section took less than 60 seconds with her doctor in nothing but his golf shorts and a pair of latex gloves. My brother had lost almost all the blood in his little body and my mother was nearly dead herself when the doctor made his incision. Fortunately she was completely under anesthesia thanks to a very talented, very fast anesthetist. The doctor pulled the baby out of her and just flung him across the room because he figured the baby was dead, he couldn’t be saved, and he had a very good chance to save my mother. What he didn’t know is that the direction he tossed him just happened to be in the direction of a gurney someone had left in the O.R.! The baby landed on it and lay there until the most unlikely thing happened. Two doctors that were finishing up a study on babies born in this very manner walked in to that O.R. after hearing the story from a nurse. They were about to write their conclusion, saying that babies born like this weren’t worth saving because they would have no quality of life because of brain damage, muscle damage or both due to lack of oxygen. They were going to say that such an infant should be left to expire; that the mother should be saved if possible. Only, something wouldn’t let them leave my brother to die. They picked him up, started gently doing something akin to an egg toss between them to get his diaphragm moving to see if he would breathe. And wouldn’t you know, he did! He took a breath and actually started crying so suddenly that they almost dropped him! One of the doctors started yelling “He’s alive! The baby is alive!” Those two doctors, although truly believing that my brother would be no different than the babies they had been studying for the last 10 years, kept their study open. That was back in 1987. I’m happy to say that my brother turned 24 on July 2, 2011. Because of him, babies born in the last trimester of pregnancy, due to a placental abruption, are worked on as much as possible by doctors and nurses because my brother is living proof that they are worth saving!
Enjoy every moment you can with your little girl!
YoungHouseLove says
Amazing story. Goosebumps. So grateful he lived – and that the docs worked so hard to save little Clara.
xo,
s
The Perfect Palette says
just now reading this! my heart goes out to you. I’m so happy your story had a happy ending. I too had some complications – not as bad as yours were, but still very scary.
thanks for sharing your story. I know how afraid you must be to eventually try for #2. I feel the same way at times.
Congrats again on baby Clara! She’s a doll! Mine just turned 11 months yesterday! I’m in full ‘1st birthday party planning mode’ now :)
xoxo, Chrissy
The Perfect Palette
Sabrina says
I just read this post and how very scary but what a blessing everything turned out to be. I had scary birth with my second. He was supposed to be 6lbs according to my last sono. I was to be induced Feb 28th. Feb 27th at 11pm I felt a dripping. The hubs and I went in and while we were waiting for my midwife, hubby started throwing up, had food poisoning and ended up in the er right downstairs. I had a whole “I am going to go natural even though I am getting pitocin” mantra and almost made it through my waterbirth. Except my apparant 6lb son was almost 9lbs and was stuck in my tiny 5’2 body haha So they loaded on the drugs ( how lovely!!!) and he came out 15 minutes later. ( at 7am the day I was to be induced) Poor little swollen jaundice boy. Scary though hearing the doctors whisper things. I heard “c section” “heart failure” etc. Finally just pushed him out with all my might. Dislocated my hips doing it. Now though he is a perfect little man and I love him to pieces. Congratulations on your beautiful little girl. You guys are a total inspiration as DIY’rs, parents, and a couple!
Jordan says
I’m 8 months prego (and susceptible to pre-term labor) so I knew reading this would make me cry (and it did!) but I love reading other womens’ stories about delivery. In a way I feel it prepares me for anything that can happen. I’m so happy Clara was a beautiful healthy bundle of joy after so many worries and doubts. Miracle baby :)
Caroline says
What an incredible and moving story! I am sitting here sobbing at work… and I’m so glad it was a happy ending for you. She’s such a beautiful blessing :). My little girl just had her first birthday, and I’ve enjoyed reading your blog about Clara, since they are so simliar in age. Also loved the post about breastfeeding today. I did it for a year and am such an advocate. Great post!!
Kristal says
Wow is all I can say. I don’t have any children yet but even so, when you said “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.”” It was all down hill from there. I was teary eyed through the rest of the post. Had I not been at work, I would have been bawling my eyes out. You are such a strong woman and miss Clara truly is a blessing. Thank you for telling your story…and congratulations over a year later on your little miracle! :)
Calypso says
WOW…………….
That’s an incredible story…… thank you for sharing….. all of it.
Christine says
I don’t know why I didn’t read this earlier, but man, at work while pregnant was NOT the time! So hard not to cry! But wow, so incredibly glad you shared this amazing story, and especially glad that you got such a wonderfully miraculous ending out of such a nightmare story!
Jacqueline Downs says
Thank you so much for sharing your birth story. I know it takes alot of courage to ‘put it all out there’ for the world wide web, but I’m sure women like me feel comforted to hear another mother’s worrys and honesty on one of the most amazing and scary miracles in life….no matter what your story.
I love your blog. You’re little family is so cute and inspiring :)
Megan says
Wow – what an emotional story. I’ve just finished reading this at work, at my desk while trying to refrain from crying. I am 29, and I live in Brisbane, Australia. Difficult times are sent to us to help make us stronger. I am sure you will be able to tackle anything now you have experienced this. Love your blog, I just found it today. God bless you x
Kristina says
I’m speechless. Reading this brought tears to my eyes. My 4 month old little girl was 6 weeks early which was scary enough. I can’t imagine what you went through. I’m SO glad that everything turned out well. So happy for you.
kjones says
Like everyone else, I’m sitting here crying. Just had my sweet baby boy 3 months ago, and though not nearly as traumatizing as your experience was, our delivery was a bit scary. He got stuck, heart rate dropped, and it was a tizzy to get him out.
It’s a strange feeling afterwards– a “what happened?!” sense that doesn’t shake off easily. But I just keep telling myself… he is here- he is healthy- we are ok.
Anyway thank you for sharing. Very emotional to read. So grateful she’s safe.
Kristen says
Wow, Sherry this is so brave of you to write about! I can’t believe I’ve followed this blog for so long and am just now reading about it. It literally brought tears to my eyes and brought me right back to my own scary birth experience…my own son was a preemie after he and I both had complications during pregnancy and labor and was born very small. 3 lbs 14 oz to be exact. Now that I look back and have heard other stories, like yours for example, I realize how truly lucky we really were. I am so happy everything turned out okay for you. You have a beautiful little family. I hope that while we all know you’ll be on high alert next time, just keep the faith and pray for the best…I know we will all be praying you have a seamless, easy delivery with no complications next time around! Even though most of us don’t personally know you, reading your blog every day sure makes us feel like you’re a good friend who lives down the street! Best of luck, Sherry and John, keep doing what you do!
mary says
I am a labor and delivery nurse and when i was reading your story, it even made me cry to think how lucky you were! we see those things a lot and never realize how scary it must be for the patient we just do what we have to do to make sure mom and baby are ok (and yes in scary situations we do leave dad in the dust…but don’t realize it until its over)
and yes you are extreamly blessed…those situations are scary! Praise God for Clara and her fighter spirit! Praying for safe future pregnancies and births! :)
Kate says
Wow. This story brought tears to my eyes and gave me chills. I’m so happy for your family that everything worked out!