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.
Kjirsti says
Your post made me cry. Having just had my own first delivery I could nearly feel your pains. My complications were not nearly as intense as yours, but enough to feel similar feelings of gratitude and wonder at modern medicine and the miracle of childbirth. I have loved following your blog, not only for your beautiful homescapes, but for the inspiring way you guys live your lives. Your marriage and the way you parent is exemplary and motivating. Thank you.
Heather D says
Amazing…so glad everything worked out so quickly in the hospital for you. (I am in tears reading the story) You will have many many people praying for a safe delivery when you guys are ready to try again.
Happy Birthday Clara! And a Very Happy Mother’s Day to you!
Jill says
Wow. Thanks for sharing this with the world. I’m not a mother and don’t ever plan on being a mother and I was just so moved by this story.
And there’s no point in asking why you were so lucky. Just love that little baby girl and be grateful. Sometimes we never know why things happen.
Joy says
Thank you for sharing your experience. Your wonderful Clara has great,brave parents.
– Joy
Jessicah says
Wow! Makes me feel so blessed that my birth was remarkably uncomplicated. I can’t imagine the stress/fear that you guys must’ve been going through!
I started reading your blog 18 months when I was newly pregnant, (and was so excited when you announced your pregnancy), and I’ve enjoyed following your journey since Clara is only 3 weeks younger than Eleanor.
My mom went into labor with my youngest brother at only 22 weeks, so I remember the scary silent drive to the hospital. She also had a placental abruption, (I think? but I was only 12, maybe it was placental something else and I’m remembering wrong?) — and my little brother is now a gangly 16 year old. So although I know it’ll be impossible to be completely worry-free next time around, there are lots of happy endings to crazy birth dramas to encourage you!
Lindsey says
Sherry,
I am so blessed by your story. As an adoptee, I don’t have a birth story, and have no idea what the experience was the for the woman for gave birth to me. I have no real connection to the labor of anyone close to me, and this was both special and heart-wrenching to read. I really cried for you pain. Thank you so much for sharing. Congratulations all the more!!!!
Lindsey from A Pear to Remember
Stephanie Phillips says
Sherry, thanks so much for sharing. Our girls were a high-risk pregnancy and horribly scary birth experience, so I understand how tough it can be to work through the feelings that follow. There’s the gratitude for your baby (babies for me), the appreciation of the team that helped, the ridiculous guilt over not “doing” better, the mourning for an experience that was not as you planned it. And on and on. I was unconscious when my girls were born and I still get so, so sad that I don’t know what happened in the OR. They spent 35 and 55 days in the NICU so I cry when I see pictures of their little 2.5lb bodies at birth.
Every pregnancy is different, though. You could be monitored more closely throughout your next pregnancy, as I was, and it will change the way that you perceive that pregnancy. But it will also make you incredibly grateful for the miracle that children are.
Congrats on your amazing beanette. You have a beautiful family and so many people find joy in sharing these experiences with you.
Steph
Danielle says
Thank you for sharing such an amazing and personal story! I, like many other commenters, was in tears nearly the whole time.
Shunta says
Thank you Sherry. For sharing. That was tear invoking for sure. And I’m so grateful for your miracle! That Clara is truly special!
Erica says
What an amazing story! Thank you for sharing it. It’s nice to look back at my own pregnancies and labors and realize how blessed I was to have healthy children (my only scare was my daughter had fluid in her lungs).
What a blessing for you and Clara and that she improved so quickly. She is a miracle that’s for sure. Praying your body heals and you are able to have a “normal” labor/delivery with your next one!
I have to agree with a previous comment by Rae, “What a great reminder of how miraculous our God is!” Yes, Yes indeed!!
Julie says
Wow, thanks for sharing. I have tears streaming down my face. Reminds me the birth of my first son who swallowed meconium in utero and had to be intubated right after birth. I didn’t get to hold him until he was 5 days old, covered in wires/tubes and had to leave the hospital without him (pumping all the time – ugh!). I was a mess. I had a c-section too because they figured out while I was in labor that he was, in fact, butt down. I tried to do a vbac with my youngest son, but then got cholestasis of pregnancy and had to get him out a bit early with another c-section. But, like you, didn’t care…get him out safe. Both are beautiful, VERY energetic, brilliant and all around handfuls. :) Reading all these similar stories…so many of us have a lot to be thankful and grateful for.
Sharon says
First time reading YHL has ever made me cry! Hugs to all of you. SOOOOO Thankful for your happy ending. She is an amazing, beautiful girl.
Echo says
I have this strong urge to give you a hug. I’m so sorry you had to deal with this but I am so happy you had a happy ending.
Danielle says
My first pregnancy went without a hitch (except for throwing up all day every day and getting dehydrated). She got stuck on my pelvis and I had a csection. My subsequent 2 pregnancies were high risk and I was on bedrest for half of my 2nd daughter and all of my 3rd daughter’s gestation; I know the terror of being whisked into the OR. For my third, my then-husband didn’t even make it into the ER, and completely missed our daughter being born (and no cry there either… I can definitely relate to that). She was the scariest birth, and why I won’t be having any more kidlets. Our little hospital didn’t have a NICU, so she was medevac’d to a hospital 2 hours away. I didn’t get to see her except for when they whisked her out of the room because she couldn’t breathe on her own. While I recovered, I had a photo that one of the nurses was kind enough to take (later on, I found out it was “just in case”). As soon as they released me from the hospital, with staples and all, I went to see Emily.
Today, she’s nearly five. She’s healthy and happy, and runs and plays and jumps and talks. She does have autism, and since the genesis of autism is unknown, there’s nothing to attribute it to. But she’s gloriously, amazingly alive.
… and that is what makes us appreciate every second of every day we get to spend with our kids.
Happy (almost) birthday to you all!
Jennifer says
Wow Sherry, I’m sitting here at work bawling my eyes out for you! Thank God that you all made it. Thanks for sharing (today and everyday).
Cinamon says
Wow. As my little guy (almost nine months old) sleeps peacefully in his crib while I am perusing your (my fave) blog, I am contemplating his birth and 1st nine months and am thinking how lucky and blessed we are to have him. Your story is amazing and reminds us all how precious life is. You have a beautiful daughter, and may God bless your family and any future pregnancies / deliveries / kiddos.
R says
Thanks for sharing. What an intense experience. God bless.
Perhaps therapy during you next pregnancy to process fear and shock (if it’s casting a pall over that pregnancy) would help. There are also herbs to take like red raspberry tea and others that specifically help strengthen the uterus and female reproductive system.
Michelle says
Wow! Not sure I should have read that at 36 weeks along (my keyboard is soaked)… but THANK YOU for sharing. You are truly blessed. I’ll never look at that sweet, smiling Clara face the same.
Traci says
What a poignant story of Clara’s birth and yours into motherhood. It must have been quite cathartic to get it all out on “paper”. I’m sure there are many readers who will identify from your story and gain strength from it as well.
As for your next pregnancy, it’s true, it will likely not carry the same blissful innocence that your first did. That’s okay. What you will have is such an amazing sense of gratitude for every healthy day you have and when a healthy baby boy/girl is born, it’s as if another stage of healing takes place.
I wish you all the best and have a wonderful time celebrating Clara’s birthday. You certainly have a right to throw a reallllly big celebration! :-)
Deidra says
With a brand new 11 day old sleeping peacefully in her crib, I can’t help my emotions! I had the same feelings going into labor and delivery, but ended up having a natural birth (minus some Tylenol to help with back labor– she was anterior). It makes me wonder, “Why me?” too. Why was I so lucky that things went so smoothly?
About a month before our little one arrived I realized that I had fears of actually having a baby, but the thought that one or both of us might not survive the ordeal had never crossed my mind. I’m so grateful for the blessing of modern medicine that can make even the worst situations viable for mom and baby. I’m so glad all turned out well in the end for your little family.
Aimee says
Wow! That is such an amazing and scary story. Riding the train to work, reading your daily post, as I do every morning, I am speechless and fighting back tears. Someone must have been looking over you and your precious little bean! Thank you for sharing your impactful story with us.
Emily says
Wow! What a blessing that everyone is ok! But, I’m due in 3 weeks (May 16th) so maybe I shouldn’t have read this :/
YoungHouseLove says
Everything will be fine! One of my big fears of sharing this was scaring other prego mommas, but rest assured that my complications were really really rare! And I must say that mid May is a great time to have a baby! It’s nice enough to walk around outside but not too oppressively hot yet. Enjoy!
xo,
s
Andi says
I don’t now if you’ll read this with all the other comments, but I had an equally as terrifying experience. My baby girl is only 10 weeks old, so the experience is still nice and fresh in my mind. I have included a link to where I wrote about my baby’s birth.
I was not told to wait any amount of time to have more kids, but I know the feeling of being terrified for the next baby. I know I want more kids. I just hope and pray my body allows me to have a couple more!
I’m so glad you wrote about this. It really does help the healing process. I’m so happy everything ended so happily for you! And enjoy that adorable miracle you have!
http://andihays.net/wordpress/2011/02/23/where-to-begin/
Sherry L. says
I went through a very similar situation with my one and only child. Had my first placental abruption at 20 weeks pregnant, got put on bedrest, then had my second placental abruption at 33 weeks. That one was the one where I went into the horrible back-ripping labor, hemorrhaging and ended up having an emergency C-section.
I’m happy to report that after 4 weeks in the NICU I got to bring my baby boy home with no lingering health problems. Now I have a happy, healthy 11 year old who is so big you’d never know he was a preemie (or gave me the scare of a lifetime)!
Amanda @ Our Humble A{Bowe}d says
I’m glad to read other comments to know I’m not the only one in tears right now. I have two boys and their births were no where near dramatic, so I cannot fully imagine how you felt. But, I do know that my worst nightmare was returning home empty handed. I’m even more impressed with you guys knowing what you just shared. I know it is easier said than done, but if you have another pregnancy, try to be happy about it, rather than waiting for the other shoe to drop. You got one healthy baby, so you can do it again. :)
Megan says
Thank you for sharing. That must have been so terrible. I’m hugging my baby right now. When you tell us you’re pregnant next time, we will all be praying for you and the baby.
Kelly says
Oh my goodness, Sherry.. *Hugs* to you.
Elizabeth says
God bless you all! I read your post through my tears-it was the most beautiful post you have written. My best to all of you and I hope that Clara has the most fantastic first birthday ever!!
Holiday says
Wow. I had a similar experience. Monitor beeping, nurses banging on my belly, the cold OR, the doc saying “Oh, wow.” in the OR. Kiddo was also known as the “Miracle Baby” in the hospital that week. It took me 9 months to be able to even Google the condition she had (vasa previa). Oh, now I’m going to cry some more – 4 years out the idea of losing her is still as raw. Good luck to you.
Lisa @ Room by Room says
I have been on the side where you go home to an empty nursery and empty arms. Our first pregnancy, a son, we lost at 23 weeks 2 days. I’ve lost 10 pregnancies in all, the last one was just last month.
Pregnancy is not a happy time for me. At all. I am petrified for as long as it lasts. Nursery? Preparations? Forgetaboutit.
Heck, we’ve even adopted twice and I couldn’t begin to prepare fully until a few weeks before they arrived. It’s all been ripped away far too many times.
YoungHouseLove says
I am so so sorry for your heartbreak Lisa. I can’t imagine. Thinking of you.
xo,
s
Lindsey says
Lisa, as an adoptee who knows the grief of my parents trying for thirteen years to conceive, I know it is a lifelong sorrow. But your adopted children are so, so lucky. I am grateful everyday for my parent’s change in life plans. They are the best, and I’m sure your children share my gratitude!
Ginny says
Thank you for sharing your story! Praise God for helping the three of you through the crisis. I’m sure you are all the more thankful to be celebrating Clara’s first birthday! I don’t know what your “hoped for” child spacing was, but three years has been just about perfect in our family. The kids are close enough in age to still be buddies, and the older ones are settled in a regular bed and potty trained before the younger sibling arrives. Hugs, Sherry!
Autumn says
Bawling over here! Such a miracle! If you want, check out my daughter’s birth story…
http://theseforevermoments.blogspot.com/2010/06/lenas-birth-story.html
Thank God we didn’t have any complications, but I could relate to some of what you went through. My husband wasn’t home, my labor was fast… you’ll have to read to find out what happened! :) One thing I guess I didn’t write about was the waiting for that first cry, you just hold your breath until you’re sure they have taken their first…
YoungHouseLove says
Thanks so much for sharing your birth story! I love reading them.
xo,
s
Lauren says
Reading this made me cry! You are very lucky. Thanks for sharing your lives with us!!
Kara says
I’m not sure if its the pregnancy hormones or what, but this post brought me to tears. You are a strong woman!
Erin says
Amazing story! Thank you so much for sharing!
Stories like this make me wonder why anyone would ever even consider a home birth. You prove that even with the most healthy, perfect pregnancy things can go wrong and being in a hospital when it happens make a world of difference.
I was like you and hoping to avoid a c-section, maybe do delivery drug free and so forth, but in the end after being induces for 2 days with no sign of labor ever coming I had a c-section, 11 days past my due date. Things don’t always go as planned. That’s life and it’s ok:)
Question…did you already have an epidural before going into the OR? I guess you did or they would have had to have totally knock you out to get her out ASAP.
YoungHouseLove says
I was in such body splitting pain that they ordered me an epidural pretty much as soon as I got there (before my water broke and the craziness started). If they hadn’t gotten that done in time I would have to be completely knocked out to be numbed fast enough to get Clara out. But instead I was just numbed from the waist down from the epidural (and John was able to be in the room). Thank goodness.
xo,
s
Jamie says
I was wondering about that too! I was thinking the story was going to end with them knocking you out and then waking up to your little baby! So so glad you were able to avoid at least that!
Paige says
Wow, talk about a dramatic arrival! Clara knows how to make an entrance. :) Seriously though, I shouldn’t have read this at work because I had tears in my eyes. I can only imagine how scary and jarring that experience was for both of you! So glad that luck and a great team of doctors were on your side that day.
Amanda says
Thank you for sharing your story with us. I had a couple of tricky pregnancies myself, and I know how hard it is to talk about. I am deeply touched and very happy that all is well. Happy Birthday to Clara!
Amy in Pittsburgh says
Sherry and John,
Thank you so much for sharing your story. I read your blog nearly every day and even though I’m not a mother (just a homeowner!), I always check out Clara’s newest pictures and videos. They bring a smile to my face because she is just so happy and delightful. She and Burger are lucky to have such loving people as parents.
Your story brought tears to my eyes because so many of us love Clara already and we’ve never even met her. Happy early birthday to Clara, and I hope that Year Two is as wonder-filled as Year One.
Meg says
Wow girl, that is definitely intense! I’m obviously glad that both you and your baby are doing wonderfully. :)
Kelley says
Wow, you guys. That’s an incredible story. When I read the part about Clara only groaning and not crying just yet, I smiled a little. I smiled because I couldn’t help but think she’s certainly making up for that with all her adorable squealing and noise-making she does NOW! She was just a little delayed, that’s all! SO glad you were SO lucky.
YoungHouseLove says
Seriously! She’s the chattiest and squealiest baby ever now! Haha, she must have just been saving it up.
xo,
s
Jen says
Crying here too. I have 2 sons (just under 3 years apart and it’s GREAT) both born by unplanned c-section and with both I had bleeding-related complications. Your experience is scarier to the Nth degree. My 2nd was 5 and 9 on APGAR and that post-baby-extraction silence was filled with these words from my midwife: “They’re helping him to breathe right now.”
I’m sharing this because I understand the fear. Though my younger son’s birth also ended in c-section and some mild complications for me, it was a HEALING experience. Even if it didn’t end the way I dreamed it would.
I wish that for you too, when you’re ready to try again. And I wish for the fears to ease, so that you can feel ready to try again.
Thanks for sharing your story… just one more example of how awesome the 3 of you are.
Rachelle @ Fingerprints on the Fridge says
Oh my goodness! You had me tearing up throughout that. I can’t imagine what that was like, and it makes me even MORE happy for you that you have this lovely little family.
xo :)
Elena says
Totally crying over here. No wonder Clara seems so chill. Everything else is going to be a breeze after that.
Chelsea says
I don’t have a dry eye. Wow…you, John and Clara are truly blessed.
What a story…as a reader I think back to that time. In my mind all I can remember is how your blog was never effected by that situation. You guys had such a traumatic situation and yet you still remained commitment to your blog.
As nice is that is…you guys REALLY need to take time for yourselves. I feel so selfish as a reader thinking back on how you guys had a baby and STILL kept up with the blog.
Now that we have the whole story I think…wow these people are OVERLY committed. We can all live if we don’t get posts for a few weeks so you guys can have your lives.
Thank you for sharing your story, it has made me have an even greater appreciation for your blog, your work ethic and the values you have as a family. Promise us in 2011 you’ll take more time for family.
YoungHouseLove says
Aw thanks Chelsea. In a lot of ways throwing ourselves into the blog and not missing a single post after Clara was born was helpful. It kept our minds busy so they didn’t stray to the scary stuff. As for family time, we definitely have pledged to try to find a better balance and recently we’ve been doing something fun with Clara every day (the park, a long walk around the neighborhood, the zoo, music class, etc). It’s amazing to spend time with her and she’s definitely THE MOST important thing so we want her to feel that way from day one.
xo,
s
LuLu says
Chelsea I’m so glad you brought this up. I’ve been thinking about this for a while and would like to echo what you said. We aren’t going anywhere!!! We love your blog. Please take time for yourselves and each other. When all is said and done and we look back over our lives NO ONE is going to wish they had spent more time at work.
LuLu
YoungHouseLove says
Aw thanks guys. It means a lot! Sometimes working from home can mean working all hours of the day and night (and even on weekends and on vacation thanks to the iPhone) but we’re really determined to make time for our family. Clara is the most important thing and she just has to know it.
xo,
s
dori says
thank you for sharing your story. i didnt have the placental abruption or cord prolapse (just the baby pushing against the cord every time i contracted and pushed, causing her heartrate to fall off the monitor), but there were a lot of parts of your story where it could have been me and my husband telling the story…especially the part about racing down the hall past all the other panicking faces. its amazing how one minute you’re just laboring away like any woman in the world, and the next its like a scene you can only imagine on TV.
thankfully you and i both had happy endings :) happy almost birthday, clara!
Gina says
Your story brought tears to my eyes! But look at the happy ending and take it for what it is! Your girl is adorable (I almost cherish your stories about her more than your DIY projects). And the whole story just made you stronger. Try to relax about a future pregnancy. Everything will be alright. Positive thinking goes half the way.
I am a mom of a 2year old and had a super easy pregnancy and a great short delivery (10 from the first contraction to actually pushing him out), but I was 43 back then! Everyone else was shaking his/her head about the ‘risk’ I was taking, and today I could not be happier with a healthy, happy and wonderful son!
I read between your lines every day that you are grateful for having a wonderful child which is all that matters.
I wish you all the best with your little one, and many more to come!
Sarah says
Sherry, it’s so brave of you to retell this story. I can’t imagine the pain and worry you and John went through. Clara is a beautiful blessing and your next baby will be too.
Jen says
Definitely crying and sniffling at my desk (at work)…thanks for sharing your amazing story! I’m SO GLAD your beautiful Clara is thriving, and kudos to you for being brave enough to share your experience!
amy says
i have to admit, i’ve been waiting for this birth story ever since clara was born! all i can say is praise the Lord for your miracle. thank you soo much for sharing :)
Emily says
Wow. Thank you so much for sharing. I’m pregnant with my first, and though a story like this is hard to read, it helps us realize the need to stay strong every step of the way. So glad everything ended up being okay with your beautiful baby girl!