Too soon and Tomorrow

Milo's hand wrapped around Spencer's thumb just days after birth.

Tomorrow, we walk in the March of Dimes annual fundraiser (the March for Babies--formerly known as Walk America). Every year when this even rolls around, we find ourselves reflecting on our luck, our children, their lives, their births, and all that is possible for them now--that may not have been possible if they'd been born even a decade earlier.

.

Milo and Isabel were born too soon. They were too small. They spent too long in the hospital. They--Milo especially--have endured too many doctor's visits, too many ER visits, too many hospitalizations, and too many surgeries. But, here's the thing--they are alive. They are relatively healthy and their quality of life really is quite good.

.

I will never forget the moment when Isabel was born. She was the only one of my three children that I was able to see immediately after their birth. She was tiny (3+ lbs), blue, and limp. She was a flash and then she was gone. Whisked away to the NICU for intubation, medication to help her breath, IVs in her umbilical cord, monitors, assessments, medications, feeding tubes, threats of surgery and a long stay. She was "healthy" by NICU standards but, as a parent, it was terrifying. Every time the phone rang my heart raced. Every time I left the hospital, my heart ached. When she finally cam home, we were overjoyed. But, at the same time, this was just the beginning of our life as parents of preemies.

.

Milo's birth was something I missed. Well, I didn't really miss it per se, I was just knocked out for it. He was the proverbial "splash and slash". Yanked from the depths of my body in a mad rush to save his life. And it did. His journey was just as complicated as Isabel's...only so much more so. Days and days on ventilators and backup ventilators and positive pressure ventilation devices. Life-threatening bradycardia, life-threatening drops in his oxygen saturation levels. And then. He left the hospital. And our journey really began. So many doctor visits. ER visits too numerous to count. Hospitalizations that I've lost track of. Procedures. Surgeries. Rescue medications. Knowing more than any child should about what to do if he can't breathe. More surgery. More plans. More doctors. More specialists. But still, he's here. And he's really relatively healthy and well.

.

20 years ago, this would not have been a given. 10 years ago, the positive outcome still would not have been a given. Because of research funded by the March of Dimes, both Milo and Isabel benefited from steroids given to me while I was pregnant. They both received medication to help their immature lungs stay inflated shortly after birth. They both received testing for a variety of metabolic disorders like PKU (so did all of your children!).

.

Premature birth is increasing. Every single year. And, truthfully, no one knows why. For our family, that is the most important piece of what the March of Dimes does. They support research into potential causes of premature birth and into potential treatments. But they do so much more.

.

We walk tomorrow, as a family. We walk tomorrow, with my department at the hospital. We walk tomorrow with other loved ones who have lost babies to premature birth. We walk tomorrow because we truly believe in this cause and in all that the March of Dimes is hoping to support, protect, and help.

.

If you'd like to walk with us or if you're able to make a donation to support the March of Dimes (No dollar amount is too small! Every donation counts--especially during times like these.), please visit our webpage at www.marchforbabies.org/pvhnicu.

Celebrating the big FIVE with their preschool teacher, Mrs. Bonnema.