by Rosie | Oct 13, 2017 | Birthdays
Eight years ago today a miracle was born, our son Kaleb Moore. He is the reason that the Gift of Life was founded. As parents, Marcus and I struggled with the thought of what would happen to our little baby if he did not make it.
The chance of survival was 5%. We both had a lot of faith that if God brought us this baby, that He would help him survive. Five and a half months in the NICU gave us a chance to think and see how other parents handled the premature birth of their baby. This is when we realized that we needed to do something to help others.
As I was waiting one day to wash my hands before entering the NICU, I started to watch the parents ahead of me. They had a solemn look on their faces and a look of worry. When it was Marcus’ turn, I noticed that he had that same look as the parents ahead of me. My turn came up to wash my hands and as I washed my hands, I looked up in the mirror and besides the tired eyes that stared back at me, I noticed something. I had that same solemn, sad, and worried face that the other parents had, “traumanicumized” as I call it.
I thought at that moment, we have been here 60 days and we do not know what is ahead for us, I can’t live my life in worry and not have faith. I asked myself what can I do, I would be the blind leading the blind.
I spoke with Marcus and we decided that we would spread cheer during the Christmas season to help us feel better. We started out with cookies for all the NICU units at our hospital as well as the labor and delivery unit and the high risk antepartum and postpartum unit. We thought that would cheer the nurses up, but started to think further as we were thinking of returning the following year. We, the parents, are the ones in need of support, so how do we make someone feel better? The cookies then became a part of our Christmas delivery until 2012 when we met some senior citizens who knitted bears. This started the Christmas bear deliveries.
From there, The Gift of Life was born and started delivering care packages on admission and discharge to the NICU with the help of their corporate partners at Enfamil, Aloma Printing, and Pampers. Today we are delivering packages all over the United States when they are requested by the parents in the NICU. Our goal is to one day reach every NICU in the United Staes from day one that the baby is admitted there.
Today help us celebrate Kaleb’s birthday with well wishes for him. If you are able to make a donation on his birthday, all donations go to help support our preemie mentor program and care package distribution all across the United States.
A Letter to Kaleb…
Dear Kaleb,
You were chosen by God to be on this earth, may this day be full of fun and exciting things today. You are a miracle and you will do great things in life. You are The Gift of Life’s Biggest ambassador, a living testimony that test and trials can be turned in to testimonies to encourage others. We love you so much.
Love Mommy and Daddy
by Rosie | Jun 18, 2017 | Father's Day, Fatherhood, Parenting, Preemie Stories, Prematurity
The Gift of Life loves to share stories from our very own families that we support because they are real and heartfelt. Today’s story explores what it is like to be a father of twin premature girls, from a mother’s eyes. We are so blessed to have Jen Labriola bring you this story today. Jen is the mother of twin preemie girls. She also dedicates her time to doing graphic work for the Gift of Life. Thank you Jen for all you do!
I have to hold back a laugh as I watch my husband fumble with putting a sandal on our squirming 1-year-old daughter. He’s confused by the straps, frustrated by a moving child, but does it because she wants her sandals on even though she’s still learning to walk. Of course, you have to do what she wants, she’s just too darn cute to say no to. I offer to take over so he can eat dinner since he’d let me eat in peace, away from our twin daughters. He happily obliges and I easily slide on her sandal with a laugh.
My husband and I have always been a team. We battled infertility, we struggled with a difficult pregnancy and then were warriors dealing with our twin girls in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). Now nearly two years later, we’re still a team when it comes to parenting.
When I think of Father’s Day, I go back to our days in the NICU as our girls spent three months there, this part of our life is very much ingrained in us. The seriousness of these months left an unforgettable stamp on our life. I think for us moms, it’s a bit different since we carried our babies inside, thus we have a more intimate relationship with our children. Fathers, on the other hand, seemingly get tossed into reality once the baby (or babies) are born.
I’ll never forget my husband’s face during my C-section, it pretty much was shock, excitement, worry and “oh crap.” We saw our girls, and from then on were called “mom and dad.” I felt a pang of guilt as it seems I had to make all the decisions in regards to our girls – I got to hold them first, first kisses, first everything as dad watched on and happily took seconds on holding our girls for the first time. Now the girls are about to turn two, and as a dad, the girls absolutely adore him.
We have different roles in regards to their upbringing. We balance each other out, take turns when one of us is ready to pull our hair out and best of all, we watch out for each other. Even though I feel slightly jealous, both of our girls first word was “dad,” the joy on his face to hear his own children calling him that was priceless.
Having a dad is invaluable in a child’s life. The fact that you have another person who loves and cherishes you so much, to protect you and be there for you, is what we truly celebrate with Father’s Day. My girls and I are lucky to have him. So Happy Father’s Day to you rookie dads, veteran dads and for you dads to be. We love and deeply appreciate you not only on this day, but every day. Happy Father’s Day!
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Because Life is a Gift, We Treasure Each Moment….
by Rosie | May 17, 2017 | Prematurity
The Gift of Life from time to time has guest bloggers and real life stories. Today we have a story by Danielle, the mom of a preemie. Take a moment to read Danielle’s journey through the preterm birth of her baby in her own words.
My story. I’ve been asked a time or two to write it, but find it really difficult to think about that time. Those times. Two of them. No, my story isn’t as bad as some and my kids are doing quite well, but it still leaves its mark. Six years on and I still wonder if I will ever approach birthday time without flashbacks of all the beeping of monitors, frantic wishes for another breath, tears at yet another bad day.
I would have been fine without kids. I had been told by various medical professionals that pregnancy was unlikely anyway. Yet, there I was, staring at two pink lines. A few weeks later, the doctor said “it isn’t viable.” He told us to go home and wait for a miscarriage. That was how we spent Christmas and New Year’s. At 27 weeks (after he admitted it “might” be viable), he told me I had to go to the hospital because my blood pressure was too high. A few days later, a nurse sheepishly handed me a pamphlet about living wills and scurried away. I found out that the doctor told my husband I had a 50% chance of surviving and he wouldn’t even put a number on our daughter. Next month she will be 6.
You know all those posts about bonding with your baby and oh-so-sweet labor stories? Ya, none of that. I didn’t want to see her. She looked like an alien monkey. I didn’t want to get out of bed. It hurt. It physically hurt and the guilt of not keeping her healthy and safe emotionally hurt. The poor nurse – I was so angry at yet another stick of my 1lb 12oz baby’s poor, bruised foot. The surgeon hovered and threw out acronyms like NEC. Yet, 56 days later Willow passed her car seat test and came home.
She rushed through milestones like she rushed through pregnancy. Today, she struggles a bit with ADHD and SPD, but races through each day with more exuberance than I know how to handle. She is my sunshine.
My second pregnancy lasted 32 weeks. I think stress played a big factor in that one. Ocean made it to 4lbs 7oz and only 3 weeks in the NICU. We felt like pros, waving away explanations of the process. Still, the hour drive each way, every day took its toll on both our strength and our finances. Ocean has a dairy allergy, is more susceptible to seasonal allergy issues, and has some anxiety-related issues, but nothing major. She will be 4 in July.
We are lucky. My daughters lived and so did I. They didn’t come home with tubes or machines or scars from surgeries. Yet, I still check every night to see if they are breathing. I still worry and Google every learning issue. I wonder how they will do through their own reproductive journey. They are beautiful and happy. So why does is it so painful to remember? Why is it so hard to crochet preemie hats without crying? PTSD, maybe, although I feel selfish for my feelings considering some friends had preemies who didn’t make it.
The lesson here is this: no matter how much time you have to spend “parenting” and no matter someone else’s experience, you are still you with feelings and experiences that deserve recognition. There was no time for that in the NICU or when we brought the tiny babies home. Even now, a minute to complete a thought is so rare. Only recently – almost 6 years after – did I start to remember more of the stress. Only with recognition, support, and patience was I able to acknowledge all the pain, anger, depression, and fear and morph into a healthier, more peaceful individual. A better parent, a better spouse, a better me. I read posts and comments by older moms of preemies now grown and they talk about it like it was nothing, completely over-shadowed by a lifetime of great memories. I made it this far. So will you.
Visit The Gift of Life page www.thegiftoflife27.org
by Rosie | Apr 27, 2017 | Inspiration
The Gift of Life Welcomes guest blogger Jen Labriola sharing her story in with us during Infertility Awareness Week.
I’m one of the lucky ones to not only survive a troublesome pregnancy that resulted in premature twins born at 28 weeks but also enduring eight years of infertility. At face value, it seems I was dealt a bad hand along the lines of fertility. Coming from a family of accidental pregnancies, my Fertile Myrtle mother who with contraceptive onboard still got pregnant with me, you’d think I’d inherit that trait.
Nope! Infertility isn’t inherited, it just happens. Just like a premature baby, sometimes, things just happen. It’s how you deal with these little setbacks that define your success and outlook. As I dealt with my twins in the NICU, with positivity, I dealt with my infertility the same way.
I’m a veteran in infertility and have been through nearly every procedure. I’ve shoved needles into myself for IVF, I’ve curled my fingers around the edge of a table as the searing pain of yet another test to see what was going on in my uterus, and I’ve prayed hard after procedures. I would hold a straight face with bad news, and then bravely ask, “Okay, what’s next?” I’ve researched what 0% APR credit cards I could use to pay for the procedures because my insurance didn’t cover infertility. I’d spent enough money to buy two cars.
While many of my friends, who also are infertile, would quit, I decided I would do everything in my power to get pregnant and if after three IVF tries, I didn’t get pregnant, I would quit. So after my first real IVF, I couldn’t wait the two weeks and took a pregnancy test four days before my scheduled blood test at the IVF clinic. I took the pregnancy test that morning, it showed one lowly line (negative) and I tossed it in the trash. That same day, after work, I was complaining to my husband about how I’d never get pregnant and how much money we are wasting, in a fit, I dug the test from the garbage to show my husband. In that, I noticed a second line, a faint second positive line. I was pregnant.
So, to those who are going through infertility, my only advice is to be positive. I tried not to wallow in the negative, bad news. My first words after bad news were always, “what’s next?” I also researched everything, I read message boards, and I became my own expert in the field. Doctors, nurses and the like are not the end-all in what they say. In exchange, you must own your own journey. You must make the decisions, the ideas and not depend on the medical field wholly. This goes with anything medical; I did the same research for my troublesome pregnancy and NICU babies.
Positivity is what has always been and is my goal; I spoke in terms of when I’d get pregnant and not if I’d get pregnant. In terms of my troublesome pregnancy, I had to get to 28 weeks for my babies to be viable, so I told the doctor I’d get to 28 weeks, it was my goal, and it was everything. I was positive, even in the negative news, I followed my intuition. I just knew things would work out regardless of my doctor’s ideas on what could happen. Could is the key word here because no one knows what the outcome will be. So go by your gut feeling, you know deep inside the answers if you listen to your intuition.
So in this week of awareness, this epidemic of infertility that finally is coming out from behind the curtain, I am in the hopes that those putting up the good fight for infertility insurance coverage, for men’s infertility issues and a better understanding of this hugely growing need, continue to make traction. Those dealing with, succeeding or moving on from, infertility issues, it undoubtedly leaves a mark on your life. It’s up to you to make such an emotional experience as something that was part of your life or as something that has defined your life.
For me, this is my past; it’s not part of my definition of me anymore. My twins, my own determination, my own success is defined in the positivity of my future. Still, always optimistic, I am cheering for you, you the infertile, you the premature mother, and essentially you.
Thank you, Jen, for sharing your story with The Gift of Life. Jen is a graphics artist and dedicates her time to the Gift of Life doing graphics and being a preemie mentor to other preemie moms!
Visit Jen’s profile https://thegiftoflife27.org/preemie-mentors/
The Gift of Life
by Rosie | Apr 24, 2017 | Inspiration
The Gift of Life supports premature babies and their parents through the NICU journey, but what happens when you can’t conceive?
The Gift of Life Welcomes guest blogger Rinat Halon sharing her story in with us during Infertility Awareness Week.
“I recently interviewed a client to create a Photo Marketing Strategy for her business. I asked her, “What is the most incredible experience you’ve ever had?” After a long pause, she said, “I have a hard time answering that because the most incredible experience I’ve ever had was giving birth to my children, but I know you cannot have children, so it’s very hard to share with you.” I thanked her for caring and showing empathy, but I asked her to go ahead and share this truly incredible experience with me anyway.
My life has been divided into 2 parts; before I knew I could not have children and after. As a teenager and young woman, my life plan was to get married and have two children; specifically, a boy named Jonathan and a girl named Natalie. Not too many people know this, but I quit my Walt Disney Imagineer in-house photographer job not just because of shifts in our department, but really because I was ready to make my dream a reality and become a mother. I wanted to raise my children and be a stay-at-home mom. I had decided that the best way to do that was to work from home as a photographer.
This dream came to a complete stop the day I was diagnosed with early menopause at age 34 years young as my ex-husband and I were trying to conceive. My life changed forever. As you can imagine, this diagnosis took a toll not just on my health, but on my life and emotional being. At 35, I was divorced, dealing with a complex and rare medical condition, which I had to figure out how to treat, and I still needed to make a living as a photographer. Photographing weddings. And maternity. And newborns. As my grandfather used to say: Oy yoy yoy, roughly translated as “oh dear God.”
Soon after being diagnosed with early menopause, it took all I had to get through these portrait sessions of pregnant moms and newborns. After the beautifully glowing pregnant women left my studio, I would cry as I was editing their photographs. Photographing newborns ironically sent me into the fetal position on the floor crying my eyes out, it was too much.
Ten years later, I am, first of all, healthy. In the 10 years that passed since that moment I got the call that changed my life, I have been lucky enough (and stubborn enough) to change my life for the better and make the best of it–-as it is. On this journey, I was fortunate to be so loved that I was able to heal from the pain and do what I do best: Turn the pain into an opportunity. The opportunity to capture the cycle of life through my portrait clients. After 18 years of photographing professionally, I know now photography is more than my profession and passion. It is my calling.
Today, one-third of my photography business revenue comes from maternity and newborn clients. The thing is I realized that there is a gift in this pain of not being able to have children and facing a beautiful newborn from behind my camera. It is the gift of living what you don’t have through capturing the beauty of it for others. Being part of the experience of welcoming a new life into this world–literally, over and over and over again–creates peace in my heart. And seeing my clients’ eyes well up with joyful tears as they look through the proofs from their maternity or newborn session, I know in my heart that it is not just that I am receiving the gift of this experience from my clients, but also that I am able to give them a gift: the gift of the energy of all my unfulfilled hopes and dreams to become a mother. I can’t explain it in words, but I know that this energy brings so much love into the portraits I am creating for my clients that it shows in the photographs.
A friend who just gave birth to her second child called me this morning to share the birth experience with me. We cried together, tears of pain and joy combined. “If I could give you anything from motherhood,” she said to me “it is the joy of that moment of seeing your baby for the first time.”
After we said goodbye, I walked into my studio’s sales room, where I have photographs of my clients hanging as samples for other clients to see. Michael, Cathy and David’s newborn’s sample photo was sitting on the chair waiting for me to hang it. I looked up and saw all of my other clients’ maternity and baby pictures I have hanging on the walls and felt the love surrounding me. Sometimes, things don’t work out the way we plan it, yet life, in all of its miraculous glory, always finds a way.”
To see some of Rinat’s maternity, newborn, family, and wedding portraits go to rinathalon.com
If you want more information about early menopause, I have created a facebook page with resources I found that helped me through my healing journey. CLICK HERE for more info.
Guest Blogger: Rinat Halon
Contact The Gift of Life for support: www.thegiftoflife27.org
