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.
Letty says
Oh my gosh, Sherry & John, what a scary experience. I felt so emotional just reading it– it made my heart stop a couple times– I can’t even begin to imagine what it felt like actually going through it. Thank you for being brave enough to share it. No wonder Clara is such a brave little fighter.
No Biggie says
Super-scary, but well worth it. Miss Clara is a true miracle, and your story is beautiful. Enjoy your time with #1 and worry about #2 when s/he comes. Your positive energy will keep you all safe.
Melissa says
I was in tears the whole time while reading this. Being a mother of a beautiful 15 mo old little girl I can only imagine myself in that situation and how I would feel and it gives me shivers. What an amazing beautiful little miracle you have. Thank you for sharing your birth story.
Jen says
Wow – thank you for sharing that. I have no kids and I can only imagine the anguish you and John went through that day, but you certainly allowed me to feel it right along with you.
Jen
Tara says
Thank you for sharing. I was very much like you: perfect pregnancy and somewhat oblivious to it all.I purposefully avoided the chapters in the books about these sorts of complications and I tuned out at prenatal class when they were talking about these things. I agree with you: it will be MUCH harder to be happy-go-lucky the second time around knowing what we now know, especially for you who lived it!
So happy for your happy ending.
Alison says
Sherry- I’m so impressed, proud and glad that you shared this touching and personal story with all of us. I think this has made us appreciate the Petersik gang even more than we already do. I’m sending a virtual hug from NJ to you and your little miracle.
brandi says
I’m so sorry it was so difficult. I was lucky to have a pretty easy pregnancy and birth, but that didn’t mean everything was ok, either…it just took a few months to find out. And my sister had an easy pregnancy until 22 weeks, when it just ended. I know exactly how you feel about the next – if I ever have a next – it is a terrifying proposition, full of anxiety and fear. But you’ll be great, just like you have been so far.
Katie T says
I’m a doula & lactation consultant and spend a lot of time talking to women about their labors, but yours really takes the cake for scary! I was in tears reading it.
Have you thought about going to an ICAN (http://www.ican-online.org/) meeting? I’ve heard that they can be incredibly helpful in women healing (emotionally) from a c-section. I even know some women who didn’t have c-sections but had otherwise traumatic births who attend ICAN meetings because the women are so helpful.
Just something to consider, especially before number two!
YoungHouseLove says
Thanks for the link! I have never ever heard of ICAN meetings so I’ll check them out for sure!
xo,
s
Charis says
I’m a doula as well, and several of my clients and friends have attended ICAN meetings and found them to be very helpful. I was hoping someone would suggest that to you if you hadn’t already been. Sherry, you sound like you are on your way to finding a positive place for your experience. I applaud you and John for being vulnerable and posting your story here.
Many years to you and your family as you celebrate your BIRTH-day together.
Laura says
Happy 2nd birthday to Clara and also to you and John! I thought about this post and your awesome courage while reading the birthday party recap.
I am working on certification to become a doula in Richmond and just wanted to let you know that if you are looking for it, there are some awesome support groups and resources for moms and moms-to-be in this city. Richmond Doulas gives a few links to local support groups here, all of which I’ve heard incredible things about:
http://www.richmonddoulas.org/blog/resources/local-2/support-groups/
There are many emotions associated and experienced with birth at all stages of life. I hope that if you are ever seeking support, you will know that the birth community in Richmond is here for you.
YoungHouseLove says
Aw thanks so much Laura! You’re the best! Those sound like awesome resources so it’s good to know they’re right here in Richmond!
xo,
s
Michelle @ Ten June says
Sherry & John- you are SO brave to have shared this story! I am sitting here at my desk, tears in my eyes… certainly one of the scariest birth stories I’ve heard. THANK GOODNESS that it all turned out okay and you’ve got amazing blessings in the form of a healthy Sherry and a beautiful, perfect Clara. God is good! We have not started our family yet, but I can only imagine how helpful this is to your readers who have experienced similar trauma. You are both amazing to have stayed so strong!
Megan says
My heart broke for you while reading your story. I just wanted to let you know that I am keeping your journey in my heart and that I am thinking of you. I hope you and John are both able to find the peace you need – and deserve.
Wendy says
I have a 2 YO, and I need to write-out my birth story before I forget. I hemmoraged during the c-section (even with petocin I could not get past 7 cm), received 7 ltrs of blood, but the doc was somehow able to save my uterus. My husband first went with the baby to the nursery, but then they were having such problems with me that he had to come back to the OR. He remember the nurse coming to him and telling him they needed him ASAP…then the nurse said to take the stairs b/c there was no time for the elevator. He said that was his freak-out moment. The bambino spent a day in NICU for funny breathing, then he had severe jaundice. I didn’t get to see him until he was 2 days old and only b/c my husband threw a HUGE fit. When we were ready for discharge, there was talks of transferring the bambino to the Children’s hospital so he could continue to receive treatment for the jaundice. They took out my c-section staples, and my incision had not healed. We ended up staying a week. I have 1 terrible week with home-healthcare and then was referred to a wound care center that did AMAZING things.
Reading your story has me crying at work. I think there is all this focus on rainbows and unicorns and we were not at all prepared for the “what ifs?” Thank you so much for sharing.
Katie Lewis says
As someone with 5 healthy children, I sooo appreciate you sharing your birth story. With my last (6th) pregnancy, I had a miscarriage at 19 weeks with placenta acreta and severe blood loss, followed by a pulmonary embolism from the surgery – it took me 6 months to really be able to talk about it and realize that I could have left my sweet babies behind also. I love that blogs can help us through those tough times, as well as the good. Congratulations on your sweet angel girl – she’s so happy and healthy looking :) You will be nervous the next pregnancy, but it will still be an amazing experience for you. Good luck!
Jessica says
What an intense, gut-wrenching story, and what courage you have to put it out there like that. I hope that it was a cathartic experience for you to write it all out. That image of John alone in the hallway and you alone on the gurney is so haunting – I still have tears in my eyes just thinking about it.
It took me about a year to recover from our little Lucy’s diagnosis and surgery – every day I had tears thinking about how lucky we were and also asking “why are we so lucky when so many aren’t?” There’s something about that year marker that allowed me to finally let it out – the fear and the guilt and all that was left was gratitude.
These children are so precious, what wouldn’t we do to ensure their health and safety and happiness? Clara is one blessed baby to have you two as parents!
Lauren @ Our Big Fat Farm Wedding says
I just cried while reading this. The little girl I nanny for (Ainsley) and spend close to 50 hours a week with was born the same day as Clara. She too was born via an emergency c-section. So very happy that both Clara and Ainsley were able to survive their scary entranced into this crazy world. Thank you for sharing Clara’s birth story.
Deborah says
Wow. That is a horrible/amazing story. After being induced with my first due to complications, they grabbed her & worked on her for 9 minutes before I heard a cry. There are no words to describe those moments. I am so thankful for my miracle and yours as well. Don’t be afraid of a second, mine was perfect.
Caitlin says
Wow! What an incredible, moving story. I’m so glad the doctors and nurses were there for you and Clara (and John) that day.
Enjoy your fabulous little bean!
Amanda says
It’s so very rare that a story that I read on the Internet affects me so deeply. I distance myself from all of it and try to pretend it’s all fake. Your birth story has me in tears at my desk. Tears of fear and joy. Thank you for sharing. We were both pregnant at the same time – I was a couple weeks ahead of you – my little spunkin will be one next week. I felt kind of strangely connected to you – this Internet stranger – because we had tons of similarities. Terrible morning sickness, low risk pregnancy, happy pregnancy… Your story is a reminder of how precious life truly is. Thank you for sharing. I can’t say it enough.
Kiley says
What a story. I was crying most of the time reading this. Thanks for sharing and thank God for such an amazing and spirited little girl. Clara is great!
Christa M says
What an amazing story, but I am mad at you for not forewarning that we should break out the tissues….I needed to take a breather right after I read “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.” ”
I know I don’t have to be one to tell you how blessed you truly are. And I can understand why it took you so long to be able to talk about it.
So did you contact Lifetime? ;) Cause this story is Lifetime material! We can have Natalie Portman play the role of Sherry Petersik
Tosha says
No words for you just mental hugs as you revisit this scary and monumental day meeting your sweet girl. Lucky you both were.
laura says
holy cow! I wish I was at home right now because I would get a good cry out! That is an amazing story and you are all so strong for getting through that! I am glad that you are open to drugs, no drugs and c-section. I often times feel like people are very judgmental about people using drugs or being induced. I was induced and I always felt like some people judged me for being induced and not letting it come naturally but the way I saw it was…if the doctor thinks I should be induced, then I am going to trust him and get induced! Although, I would love it if I could have gone into labor naturally and done it without drugs. But, anyway, I understand your worry about your next pregnancy/delivery, but you have to have faith. Faith that everything will be fine…and I believe it will! I’m sorry I wrote so much I just love hearing baby storys! What a beautiful little blessing you have. :)
Amanda- Hip House Girl says
Wiping away tears right now. Thinking of John in his scrubs alone and you in with the doctors, and waiting… I had to read this story in stages so as not to have a full-fledged breakdown here at work. I’m so sorry you guys had to experience this and I admire your resiliency so much. I think you’re right to let yourself be you and be on high alert- you’ll still enjoy your next pregnancy, just in a different way. I’ll never look at pictures of Clara the same way- what a little miracle! Thank you for sharing this story.
Jana says
I just completely cried reading this…I know what you mean about being able to talk about it without crying…It took me a long time to talk about our first child’s birth due to all the crazy complications we experienced, and like you they were completely unexpected and atypical. I also realize now that it is traumatic not to be able to hold your baby straight away. It just is. It is in our biology, and it affects our neurochemistry (all those pair bonding hormones!)…and not getting that is devastating.
And yes, that second pregnancy is scary but going in knowing in a way prepared me to prepare myself for the worst and I was able to relax (a little) knowing it was out of my hands and that the plan was set in motion from the time he was conceived, so we would take whatever came our way.
I am so glad you and your little bean came through healthy, and I am so glad you shared your story. Thank you :)
Jenn says
Sherry – thank you so much for sharing your story. I had a very traumatic birth experience with my second child after a completely uncomplicated first pregnancy/delivery and a normal 2nd pregnancy. It took me a very long time to be able to talk about my experience and I am very unsure about another pregnancy because of it. I completely understand the fear that comes with the thought of another pregnancy and I’m still working through that 22 months later. I pray that this was a very healing process for you and that you receive an extra portion of peace when you need it.
Jyl says
Dear Sherry and John,
Thank you for sharing your story. I hope writing and sharing it helped you become even stronger than you already are.
My father passed away in January, and the way things ended for him was weeks full of the terrifying kind of hospital moments you describe. I was his only surviving family, and for many scary moments I was alone too. My husband and I are now trying to start a family and be relaxed about it, even though I’m far from over what I just went through with my dad.
I know our stories are different, but reading this made me feel less alone, and less afraid. I don’t know what your faith is, but no matter what it is, your story is a reminder the miracles happen. That scary and terrible things can sometimes end up full of love and happiness.
Thank you so, so much for sharing this.
Emily says
I’m crying at my desk, remembering my own scary birth moment – easy pregnancy, out-of-the-blue emergency, premature birth by emergency c-section, weeks in the NICU, etc.). Every birth affects us differently, but based on my experience, I’ve found that the fear does start to fade over time. Also, I find it comforting that I will be so closely monitored during my next pregnancy and that we can catch a problem early if one starts to occur. Thanks for sharing this, Sheri. Clara is an amazing, beautiful little girl and I’m sure you guys will add another (many more?) perfect little babies to your family in the future.
Rikke says
Thank you being so honest and sharing your story with the rest of us. I have tears thinking about what you and your family went through that day, and my heart broke a little when you mentioned John alone in the hall and your desperate plea for your baby girl to cry. So glad you all were watched over that day.
Lori says
Sherry, that is a very scary and amazing birth story. So glad it had a happy ending. You are all such strong people to have made it through. All I could think while I was reading your story is that if you didn’t have access to the amazing medical care when you did, neither you nor Clara might have made it. If you haven’t seen it, Christy Turlington started a charity called Every Mother Counts that is trying to get medical attention for every mother and child.
YoungHouseLove says
You’re the second one to mention that charity so I’m definitely going to check it out!
xo,
s
kt says
Thanks for sharing that, Sherry. I’m a nursing student on the OB floor right now, and dealt with my first hemorrhage last night. It can be scary. I know you got to see firsthand the amount of training and education the doctors and nurses on the mom/baby unit go through, and I’m glad you had such a great response team.
If it helps you feel any better about the next pregnancy (about which I’m sure you’ll hear a million stories & none will make you feel as confident as having a healthy pregnancy, labor, & delivery), my mom abrupted with my younger brother, had a similar emergency section, and went on to have two more healthy boys. Both needed c-sections, and one was even placenta previa, which is a main cause of abrupting, but neither abrupted and both ended well. Just some encouragement!
Oh- one last thing on this novel of a comment – Apgar scores aren’t supposed to be used for predicting baby’s outcome, ever ;) They may be a little indicative, but many babies are very low on that initial scoring!
Can’t wait to see what you guys do for Clara’s party!
Shannon Mac says
Wow. What an amazing story. No surprise here on why you didn’t share it earlier — that’s a whole lot. I am soo happy that everything worked out the way it did. I’m pregnant with my first — so maybe reading this wasn’t the best idea (ha!), but it’s nice to hear that even when multiple things go wrong, you can (both) still make it :)
CandiL says
Both of my pregnancies ended up in emergency c-section after having a perfectly normal pregnancy. The second about killed me and him…he also had the cord prolapse going on. And the first 24 hours under an oxygen hood. He’s a tough little man even 2 years later.
Your story made me cry pretty much all the way through. You are blessed with a wonderful husband and now a beautiful baby girl! You are the luckiest of the lucky!!
Have a great day and hug your baby a little tighter, I always do when I read stories like this!! :)
Peggy says
(((((((((((Sherry, John and Clara)))))))))))))
Thank you for sharing this. I’m so glad I knew Clara is
a happy, perfect baby before I read it, and I still cried.
I sincerely wish you an easy pregnancy and delivery next time. Peggy
Hilary @ My So-Called Home says
“You formed my inward parts, You knit me together in my mother’s womb. I will praise You for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Marvelous are your works and that my soul knows very well.” Ps 139
Praise the Lord for having everything under His control regardless of what we think we can handle. Clara is truly a blessing.
bethany says
ok. now i’m crying. thank you so much for sharing your story. seems like somebody needed that baby and you to stick around. my heart is thankful for you and john, and miracle-baby clara.
Martha says
Hi,
Thank you so much for sharing. Your story not only brought me to tears but reminded me of my 2nd child’s birth. It was nothing like yours but any complication is scary. The placenta simply quit working three weeks out and I was absorbing the fluid. My sweet boy was in trouble. I was induced and we had him witin 24 hours. The doctors scared us so badly giving us every possible scenario. Luckily, Lee was a trooper and made it through OK at 5lbs 6oz. 4 1/2 years later he is my super smart, rough and tough farmer kid. : )
Clara is beautiful and I hope all of you have a wonderful 1st birthday. It really is a special time. : )
Keri says
I am a long time lurker, but I felt compelled to comment today. It’s weird to feel so strongly for a stranger, but I completely sympathize with everything you are feeling. I feel like my husband and I are very similar to you guys in attitude and passion for each other, and the thought of him being left in the hallway is heartwrenching (that part really killed me, since we all knew the story had a happy ending) and being alone in the OR…oh my gosh. Tears, guys. Tears.
I know it’s hard to not be terrified of the future, and to not blame things on yourself. You didn’t do anything wrong, and there’s nothing you *can* do to prevent something bad happening in the future. All you can do is love with all of your heart the things that went right, and let life unfold.
RO says
CHILLS… Wow. Im just.. Wow!
Thanks for sharing!
You are a very strong woman! and Excellent parents!
Ro
Barb says
Thank you for sharing…Sherry and John. I think today you made many of us have a tear in our eyes.
Celebrating her 1st birthday will be a special time. Take it all in.
B.
Lisa says
I have followed your blog for well over a year because I am totally enamored by your love for each other and your sweet little Clara. I even show my mom and sisters your pictures and videos of Clara and Burger and of course, none of us know you personally. Anyways….I sat here with tears streaming down my face especially the part where you described John standing alone. I just picture my hubs in the same situation and bring on the rain!
Thank you for sharing your story! I am 11 weeks along but lost two angels before this one. It is so wonderful to read the happy endings rather than the ones that ended like mine. God bless!
Sarah says
Oh my gosh. Your story literally brought tears to my eyes. So emotional. Thank you so much for sharing, I know that had to be hard. I hope it helps with the healing process. I also had a very scary delivery with my first. (Not as life threatening as yours, but still definitely an emergency). I often think about the “What if’s”…. So, so scary. Life is so precious. Thank you again for sharing.
PS- Long time reader/stalker; first time commenting :) Love your blog!
Anna says
What a powerful story. Thanks for sharing. Your little family is a special one! :)
Sarah says
This made me cry. I had no idea you two went through so much to bring her into this world. I’m so glad this story has a happy ending. I pray that any pregnancies from here on out are complication free and result in beautiful, strong, healthy babies.
Leah says
This story is a good story to tell teenagers for birth control. SCARY! Glad that little girl exists b/c her face brightens my day while I’m sitting here in my office! Which is weird b/c I don’t know you guys but she sure is cute!
Dana @ House*Tweaking says
Pretty scary stuff right there. Way to count your blessings and realize a miracle when you see one. I’m so happy to see such a happy, healthy little girl in your lives! That’s one strong girl and one strong Mama.
CB says
What an amazing story. I am still teary. I can not even fathom how you felt that day. I think the babies who had a tough entrance end up a bit stronger in the end. Sounds like you had incredibly capable Drs and Nurses :)
Kevin M says
Wow, as a father of 2 – both pretty routine births if there is such a thing – I can’t even imagine what you or John were going through. My wife fainted after baby #1 when she was walking to the bathroom, and that freaked me out even though the nurses were right there helping her the whole time.
Thanks for sharing your story and good luck when you decide to go for #2.
Abigail says
oh sherry,
you are so brave, so strong. thank you for sharing your story with the world. i’ve loved watching Clara blossom in photos over the past year and always think that you two seriously must have created the cutest baby ever. :) she’s such a blessing and i can’t think of two more deserving people then her parents!
Jessica @ The SBB says
Sherry, no wonder you waited a full year to talk about this. I can’t imagine how terrifying it must have been to have been wheeled into the OR so quickly and under such circumstances. I do know how scary it is to have that sweet baby taken away from you and sent to the NICU, though, and that’s enough to send any strong woman into a fit of hysteria. I am so glad you guys had such a beautiful, happy ending. Clara is such a precious little girl, and obviously a tremendous blessing. I pray for uncomplicated pregnancies in your future!!
Erin B. Inspired says
Holy tears, Batman! What an emotional story. So glad that both you and Clara are ok. What a beautiful blessing and miracle. Makes you just want to hug her even more. :)
Meghan says
Your story was amazing and I’m so glad you shared it. How scary and emotional, but awesome at the same time because of Clara’s fighting spirit.
Meghan says
Well, yours too. :)