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.
Lauren says
Wow. Thank you for opening yourself up and sharing a scary yet miraculous story with all of us. Clara is beautiful and I pray that you get to experience the happiness of another healthy baby without any scary complications. Your family deserves that happiness.
Sue says
I’ve been reading your blog for years but have never commented before. Your story has me crying, though, and I just wanted to say how sorry I am that you and John went through that- but how happy I am for you that you have a beautiful, healthy baby girl today. Thank God. Literally.
I had a very, very similar first labor experience- although my complications weren’t as serious as yours. It’s totally understandable why you’ll be terrified to be pregnant and give birth again. Hopefully you have a sensitive, cautious OB who will be able to reassure you (at least a little bit) along the way. You have my very best wishes for a healthy, uncomplicated pregnancy when the time comes. :)
P.S.- Love this blog! You are an adorable- and super-talented!- family.
Georgianna says
Thanks for sharing. I also had an placental abruption but I had a home birth, so the circumstances were different. There was no cord prolapse, so my situation wasn’t as dire. My water broke and it was full of blood, just like you. But she was born about two minutes later, so there was no time to go to the hospital and have a c-section. But we didn’t really need one and my baby turns three today(!) and everything is peachy. But I just want to say, I think you should dial back the fear a gallon or two. The doctors and nurses have a way of making a situation sound horrible and it goes from bad to life-threatening because that is how they are trained. That does not necessarily mean that is what was going to happen to you. I used to work in a hospital. I know first hand how they make mountains out of mole hills because 1 in 100 cases ended badly 5 years ago, for some other nurse they know. And your statistics for reoccurring problems with future pregnancies are inflated. It really isn’t going to be 1 in 4. That’s astronomically high and I don’t think its correct. I’ve done a lot of research on this subject and I’ve never come across such a horrible statistic. Sorry if this sounds negative, I’m actually trying to be helpful. I am very sympathetic of your situation. I was emotionally traumatized by my home birth and had a really really hard time bonding with my baby. I don’t know why but I’m guessing it was the intensity and amount of pain. But now we’re best buddies. Everything works out.
tania says
Not good to read when pregnant…crying.
SushiMama says
I’m so thankful for you happy ending! Thank you for sharing this story with your readers- I think it’s safe to say that we all love Clara and are thrilled with your outcome!
Allie says
I have to agree with everyone else! That is an amazing story and appreciate that you are willing to share something like that with us. This is my first comment as I am more of a newbie to yhl, but have been meaning to thank you, john, clara, and burger for letting us creep and get great ideas for our houses and lives! So thank you very much! And I am happy that you get to celebrate a 1st bday with the bean!
Angela M says
Wow you are an awesome storyteller! You own your story girl. Try to take John’s advice enjoy the next time you can’t live in fear. I too had a scary story and have 2 beautiful children both of whom scared me to death til they arrived a month early. But they are here and they are awesome just like it will be for you. You have to believe.
Begoña says
You are a strong woman. And she is awesome but I can easily feel everything you felt and thought through your words and it scares the hell out of me. I’ve even imagined my hubby alone in the hallway and it’s broken my heart. You both are defenitly a couple of lucky ladies.
Michelle says
I am in tears – thank you for sharing your story. I can’t imagine how terrifying that day would have been.
Natalie says
Three words:
God is good.
Ash @ Good Taste Healthy Me says
This really brought tears to my eyes. I’m so glad it all worked out in the end. I think I would be petrified to even try and have another child but you guys know what’s best for you. :)
Lindsey says
You had me crying in my coffee this morning.. I am so happy you and sweet Clara made it through everything okay. Thank you for sharing such a life-changing moment.
kathy says
Dear Sherry and John – what a remarkable story. Still crying – brought back memories of my own preemie twins born at 2 lbs and 29 weeks. But, my girls made it – like Clara–and I can totally relate to the coming home to the empty nursery – for 3 months. Execution of the events of the day were well written and spell binding (even though we know how it turns out) Her birthday will always be one of the most important and special days of your lives – enjoy every minute of it!
Jennifer says
Thank you for sharing your story…Takes a lot of courage to put it out there. I hope it provides some of the healing you were hoping it would.
Sometime’s it’s hard to just receive the blessings/lucky breaks. I wonder that all the time…why did I get so lucky with a great family, great job, great fiance, house, car etc. Sometimes we just have to be humble and stay grateful. Life deals the cards…we just have to play them.
Continued blessings to your little family.
Lesley says
Wow! Thank you for sharing. I’m finding myself tearing up just thinking about how scary that was for you all. An aquaintance of mine experience cord prolapse the day before I had my son, and hers didn’t make it. I have felt guilty for so long for having a simple, healthy delivery. These things happen all of the time, and while the doctors don’t want to scare their patients, I don’t think they do a good enough job and making the possible complications known to us.
With both of my children, I just assumed pregnany and delivery would be normal and easy and healthy. Thankfully they were for me, but that is not always the case. I hope that you are able to find some relief and relaxation should you get pregnant again and enjoy it like you did with Clara. Heavens knows you will look just as adorable!
Christy Turlington is involved with “Every Mother Counts” and I think you will find it fascinating. http://www.everymothercounts.org/
YoungHouseLove says
Thanks for the link, I’ll have to check it out. And as for your friend who had the cord prolapse the day before you had the baby, how sad. I’m so sorry for her and for how scary that must have been for you to go into labor the next day.
xo,
s
Ashleigh says
Oh Lord, the image of John standing there in the hallway by himself just did me in. I can handle the other stuff, because women are fighters, but I just imagine what my husband would look like and what he would feel standing there all alone, not knowing what was going on. Thanks so much for sharing this! Hopefully it felt good to get it out.
Sarah B says
Thanks for sharing your emotional day – as a mom of 2 young girls, I love birth stories, and I am overjoyed that yours had such a happy ending!
My 1st daughter surprised everyone and came 6 weeks early – yep, no warning, water broke and 6 hours later (fast) we had a baby! She got to attend her own baby shower :) after a 7 day NICU stay.
Needless to say I was high-risk for #2 and she came 4 weeks early even after I got a shot in the tushie once a week for about 16 weeks.
Babies are fighters and you shouldn’t be surprised to hear that little girls have the best chances.
Emily says
I am at work and just read this story and was secretly crying but kept acting like I was coughing/yawning so that was the cause of my tear filled eyes.
I am so happy that this story had a wonderful ending and so glad that you had such an awesome team of Doctors/Nurses by your sides. You have such a beautiful daughter and I hope your next pregnancy doesn’t give you any problems. Congrats to you both for being able to “almost” celebrate her 1st birthday.
Molly says
Reading your birth story was hard for me- my son’s birth was very similar and even at 6.5 months post-partum I have a hard time talking or thinking about it. After 34 hours of back labor at home, I was admitted to the hospital, my water broke and was filled with blood so I was rushed into the OR due to a placental abruption. He was delivered so quickly my husband wasn’t even in the room when it happened. I lost as much blood as you can before a transfusion is needed, but by some miracle we are both healthy with no lingering effects from his arrival. I do look forward to having more children but I am scared of it happening again. Thank you for sharing.
Oona says
Thank you for sharing your story, Sherry. I can’t even begin to imagine being in that situation.
Christina W says
Wow! What an incredible moving story. It just goes to show that you really don’t know what people are actually going through sometimes. I had it in my head that Ms. Clara was just one of those exciting, everything is sunshine pregnancies and births. (I don’t know if ya’ll were trying or if she was a surprise so left that part out).
My husband and I have been trying for almost a year now, have encountered several set backs and an early miscarriage. I don’t think we’ll ever be able to experience a pregnancy with naive hope and expectations like the majority do. There is now that constant fear that a positive test doesn’t always mean you come home with a baby in 9m.
You, John and Clara are very strong and courageous people having gone through all that in 1 day and not letting it ruin your outlook on life! Congratulations to ya’ll and I wish you all the best as you grow as a family!
Alissa says
Wow, Sherry, you shared this story in such a powerful way that I began cry just thinking about it all. (Then I also needed to explain to my boyfriend why I was crying at 11am with my RSS reader open in front of me…)
It’s amazing that both Clara and you are doing so well after such a horrific experience almost one year ago. That is truly a miracle and I believe Someone Up There was really watching out for your family. Thank you for being so very brave as to revisit the experience by retelling it here.
Regina says
Okay, I am sobbing. I always get emotional reading birth stories, but this one especially. I am so so so happy for you all three! I can’t even imagine. I have 2 (my daughter is a couple months younger than Clara) and 1 on the way. I am all about natural childbirth as my #2 was an amazing Bradley birth, but I am so with you. Drugs, c-section, whatever it takes to save your baby and yourself.
And I completely understand the whole jinxing thing. You just do and act (or over-react!) as much as you want to!!
Babies are truly a gift from God, and miracles indeed.
Corie says
I think it was very brave of you to share the story with so many people. I hope in some way that it was helpful to put it all out there. Congratulations on that beautiful little girl – happy almost 1 year!
Alison says
Thank you for being brave enough to share this story. It must have been totally terrifying for both of you. Clara is so beautiful and perfect!! I am so glad that there was a happy ending for your sweet family :)
Lauren @ Lettuce Eat Cake says
I read every single day but rarely comment. I just wanted to say this post was beautifully written. Hearing Sherry’s terrified inner monologue really brought tears to my eyes. I agree with above commenters–the love you guys have for each other and Clara is just amazing. Thank you so much for sharing such a difficult, personal story. Know that many readers could potentially benefit from this information down the line.
tina says
Amazing! Thank God for Western Medicine. I had a similar frenzied nurses & Drs filling the room saying scary things to each other & passing telling glances. That was #1, #3 is coming in a few weeks. Each time has it’s struggles & is a faith-building emotional journey. What a story you have!
Heather says
I had my baby a month before yours, with a C-section due to “fetal intolerance to labor.” While I was the first of my friends to have had a C-Section, your post makes me very thankful it was not more serious. Glad everything turned out OK for you in the end.
Stacy says
Amazing and beautiful story. I am wiping tears off my face right now. Thank you so much for sharing.
Jen @ Domesticated Nomad says
Well, there goes the makeup – crying now. An amazing story and I’m so happy things worked out for you. I can understand that the pain of the day will stay with you. My second didn’t cry right away. You described the agony of waiting for the cry so well. The silence was loud. But thankfully for us things worked out just fine. You are a beautiful storyteller.
Catira says
Thank you for sharing your story with us…
I had a similar experience last August when our baby girl was born… and ended up under full anesthesia during an emergency c-section… My husband was not allowed in the OR and had to witness the birth of our first child through a 2″x2″ window… I don’t remember much of that day other than being really scared and thinking “god, please let me wake up once this is done” as they were putting me under… And I did… and got to meet my daughter 3 hours after she was born… To this day I still feel so sad when thinking about it… there is a big black whole around my daughter’s birth…
And like you I feel so scared about the next baby… I know I have time since we too have to wait for the next pregnancy… But I already made my mind on another c-section… hoping this time I can reduce the chance of another emergency operation and can be fully awake…
That being said, our little Léa turned 8 months yesterday… and she is just perfect and fills our life with so much joy and love…
Stephanie Phillips says
“and got to meet my daughter 3 hours after she was born… To this day I still feel so sad when thinking about it… there is a big black whole around my daughter’s birth…” This was my experience, as I was put under as well. It really does stay with you.
Veronica @ Sweet Pumpkin says
I just read this and my heart skipped a beat. I hemorraged a week after my baby girl was born and they had to put me under. I remember having that same thought as I blacked out… “God I hope I wake up from this.” God Bless our girls!!
Inka says
Thank You So much for sharing. A few tears came out of my eyes from reading this. You and Clara are both strong, amazing and beautiful.
Michelle says
That is a pretty incredible story. So glad that you and Clara both ended up happy and healthy. Thanks for sharing!
Sarah says
Thank you for sharing your story! No matter the birth you have, it sticks with you and impacts your life forever. Have you looked in to going to and ICAN group? They deal a lot with recovering from cesarean birth trauma and how to attempt a VBAC if that’s what you want!
http://www.childbirth.org/section/ICAN.html
YoungHouseLove says
You’re the second one to recommend them so I’d love to check them out!
xo,
s
Allison Jag says
Wow. Wow. Wow. Thank you so much for sharing this story Sherry and John (and sweet little Clara!). I can’t even put anything else in to words, other than WOW. So glad that it was a HAPPY ending!
Meagan says
Sherry,
I don’t comment often, although I’ve been reading the blog every day for the past year. I just want to say thank you so much for that. If made me cry and has scared the cr*p out of me (all the what ifs?) but it is an amazing story. Thank you for sharing. I hope that it has helped you as much as it has touched us. As a miracle baby myself (born 3 months premature), I know it will one day lead to an even stronger bond between you and Clara once she is old enough to actually realize and appreciate how amazing her birth story is.
All the best to all of you and a big, big hug,
Meagan
Christine says
I echo all the others in saying thank you for telling your amazing story. It made me cry as I thought about my own sweet baby girl (now six years old!) and her birth at 26 weeks. My water broke at just 22 weeks but God miraculously kept her inside of me for an additional month. She will forever be a reminder to my husband and me of God’s mercy and grace. No matter how many years go by, you will always look at Clara with awe and be able to recall that extraordinary day. Thanks again for sharing!
Melissa says
Sherry – you are amazing. Thank you for sharing your story and for always keeping it “real”
Bree says
What a scary story, I’m so glad there was a happy ending for you and your bean! I hope that sharing helps you move past the whole ordeal! You are a brave woman to be willing to face this, wow!
beth says
I’m a bawling, sobbing, blubbering mess. Right here at my desk. Coworkers are worried. I didn’t bring any spare mascara. They’re happy tears though. Such an amazing story!
Dorothy says
I cried.
God is so good. Clara is so beautiful. Y’all are so so blessed.
Katy says
Wow, I’m so amazed by your incredible outcome, and simultaneously absolutely terrified. I’m at 36 weeks with a largely uneventful pregnancy. I’m just going to focus on your beautiful blessing of a daughter.
Ameya says
Oh wow! I cried. That is such a scary story, I completely understand needing so much time!
My baby was an initial apgar of 6 and everyone was freaking out and rushing him to get oxygen and xrays and keep him overnight in the NICU (even though his 5 minute one was a 9?) so I can only imagine what the doctors would have been like at with a 4! Wow. I complain a lot about the American OB system, but man, when there are real and dangerous complications, they are AMAZING and real miracle workers! I’m so, so glad everything turned out well. And when it’s time for the next baby I’ll be thinking of you all and wishing you the best.
Kristen says
Thank you for your story. Clara is a beautiful little girl, and I wish you and John both all the joy in the world from her. I’m a daily reader and I can only imagine how hard this was for you to write. Blessings on your beautiful family!
Nancy says
I am so happy that Clara, you, and John were blessed with a miracle that day. She is a beautiful and sweet little girl. I don’t have any children yet but have experienced the grief of birth complications as my sister went through it with her second child. My sister didn’t get a miracle that day. Eleven months later the healing process continues but our family and friends are by their side every step of the way. We are ecstatic to be walking in my nephew’s memory this Saturday in March of Dimes. Thank you so much for sharing your story. Clara’s miracle gives me even more conviction to walk and raise money for babies born too soon or too sick to fund research, NICUs, and amazing teams of doctors and nurses so that there will be many more miracles. This Saturday I will walk in Clara’s honor too.
YoungHouseLove says
I’m so sorry to hear about your loss Nancy. I’ll be thinking about you on Saturday when you march.
xo,
s
Kati says
You do such an amazing job at keeping it real! It must be incredibly difficult to put all this out there for the world to be a part of such a personal part of your life but it’s really appreciated. As a young mom of two, I love seeing your family evolve and hearing how you do it all. With all of the information readily available in the world now, it doesn’t necessarily make things easier or guide you through life but your blog helps people feel like we’re going through it all together – thanks for that. Your daughter is an absolute miracle and I’m glad you’re here to share the story and future experiences.
Rebecca Meier says
Wow, I don’t have any children yet so I cannot even imagine what that must have felt like emotionally…but thank you for sharing your story. I love reading your blog and this post made me tear up (rare for blog-reading).
Clara is such a beautiful little girl! Congratulations to you & John for creating such a wonderful family (and sharing every step of it with all of us) and HAPPY EARLY BIRTHDAY TO CLARA!
Csilla says
Thank you for sharing your story! It brought tears to my eyes reading about your amazing and terrifying day. I’m so happy that everything turned out beautifully.
Robin says
You made with cry with this. I had a horrible c-section about a month after you. I wrote about it a little bit earlier over the course of 3 posts. Just as I imagine your doctor said I wasn’t supposed to get pregnant for a couple of years but here i am with a big surprise (only 6 months after my son was born) and we are due in Sept. Our son tried to come out arm first, then when my doctor attempted to move him his chord prolapsed, followed by an abruption all at once. I empathize completely. If you want to read mine it’s at http://thepregnanthousewife.blogspot.com/2010/06/my-labor-part-one-breath-baby-breath.html and if you just follow the next two posts you will see get the full story. It’s traumatizing for sure girly and I’m so glad you are o.k. and we get to see all of your work. I hope hubby is doing all right too. Mine took a little while to realize we all made it and we are more grateful than ever.
YoungHouseLove says
Wow- you’re so brave. It’s helping so much to hear from all of you at home with similar complications or even just kind words. You have no idea how much it helps.
xo,
s
Allison K. says
Thank you for sharing your story. It’s very courageous to share something so personal and scary. My dog came over to sit next to me when she saw I was crying. :-) You have a beautiful blessing named Clara (and Burger!) and you are both doing an incredible job loving both of them.