Seton Wonders Team

Our March of Dimes family team is a bit unique. We're family, just not the kind you usually think of.

Our family was born in the spring of 2006. Each of us gave birth to a baby (or 2) too early that spring.

We found each other in the rocking chairs next to the isolettes and warming beds in our NICU wards; in the hospital elevators; queued up for a turn in the pumping room; sprawled on the waiting room couches during shift changes and in the next seat at the March of Dimes support group meetings.

We found each other and held each others hands through terrifying moments where loss seemed imminent. We celebrated each others joys, the thrill of a gained ounce or reduced oxygen. We spoke medical jargon like trained professionals and parceled each day's schedule according to the NICU's closures.

We celebrated each baby that was finally released to go home, but inwardly, we felt envious and despaired that we'd never be that lucky. After the NICU, many months for some of our family, we battled the isolation of parenting medically fragile children with carefully planned, germaphobic playgroups and night's out for the mothers.

In 2006, during the March for Babies, we were all struggling to survive on the top floor of Seton hospital.

Now, each spring, we memorialize and celebrate our children by walking in the March for Babies.

Our family team is solidified by experiences we wish on no one. Ever.

Our team is built on loss and gain.

We walk for Angels, there are 3.

We walk to raise awareness and celebrate life.

We walk for our victorious and courageous children.

2010 March for Babies

This year's March for Babies was another win. Because it's so close to Roo's and Em's birthday, it's a tangible reminder of how far we've come and what we're giving back to.

Each year, we ask that our friends and family make a donation to the March of Dimes in lieu of giving a birthday gift. It is such an incredible blessing to walk with our fellow NICU survivors and honor the wonderful children they are today.

It is also a poignant reminder that several of our numbers did not get to go home with their mothers, fathers, twins. And that is why we march.

Thank you thank you to all our family and friends who marched with us in body

Aunt Kak, the Bests, our NICU family

and in spirit

McGrands, Mammaw and Pappaw, Nannie, families of Laura, Kristin, Jennifer, Jackie, Vanessa, Jenny, Betty, Mitzi, Susanne, Erin, Andrea, Aunt Joy, Aunt Becky

a dream come true

We've had a lot of fun get togethers with our playgroup this semester.

A special addition to the group (for us) are Abigail and Porter.

We go way back with them.

Back to the incubator/isolette/NICU with them.

Abigail, Porter and the Rowdy Girls are a couple of weeks apart in age and have lived parallel lives. We reconnected with them a year ago, and are so very glad.

Abigail and Porter planned our last playdate and it was a smashing success.

Complete with a walk down fancy-shopping-row to the gigantic Macy's Christmas tree.

special thanks to Jenny for these 2 favorite photos!

On the way back from visiting the tree, we stopped off at Santa's hangout.

These four weren't brave enough to check him out in person, but they were very interested in all that were.

Looking at this picture makes me drift back to the NICU almost 4 years ago and wonder what we would have given to have had a glimpse ahead to this photo.

Aware

It’s Prematurity Awareness Day®.

The Rowdy Girl family is aware. First hand aware.

If you haven't already, I hope you'll visit the March of Dimes Web site and join the fight for preemies.

M squared

After digging deep on an old hard drive, these pictures surfaced.

Mammaw and the Rowdy Girls, freshly born...


...and freshly home

And Marmee with the Rowdies a few months and many calories later.

Why I March

Tomorrow is the annual March for Babies walk to support the March of Dimes.
Once again, we will be walking with our NICU friends, forming Team '06 Seton Wonders.

We've been out of the NICU for 2 years, 11 months and 19 days. It still seems like yesterday. I continue to get a bizarre mixtures of feelings when I drive towards the hospital. A combination of nostalgia, panic and urgency. I've been told the latter two feelings start to fade as you near the 10 year graduation-from-the-NICU mark.
We'll see.
One thing I do know. In 10 years, we'll still be marching.
_______________________________

reprinted with permission from The Twin Spin

I march because 3 pounds is heart wrenchingly small.

I march because after waiting so long, no one should have their baby whisked away from them after only a 5 second hello.

I march because it's heartbreaking to be told that you can't hold your own baby.

I march so that fewer parents have to become familiar with the terms "apnea," "bradycardia," "gavage," "bilirubin," and "PICC line." Those should be reserved for doctors only!

I march because I know too many women who have delivered at 35, 33, 32, 31, 28, even 24 weeks.

I march because some of these women have had to say goodbye to their babies and give them to God.

I march so that more women can become educated on how to have a healthy pregnancy.

I march so that all premature infants can get the utmost care and their families can rely on the support and information provided by the March of Dimes.

I march for Creed and Truman, Mallory, Kelby, and Evan, Megan and Morgan, Em and Roo, Owen and Brody, James, and, of course, Rachel and Claire.

Tomorrow, Saturday, May 9, 2009, we march for all the babies and the families that have greatly benefited and will benefit from the support of the March of Dimes. We appreciate all of the loving and generous support of our friends and family both in the early days, and now in our fundraising efforts.

MARCH FOR BABIES!

Batman

Bet you're wondering what this book has to do with Batman.

Well stick around for a minute.

Allow me regale you with a tale from our NICU days and soon it will all make sense.
********
J and I developed a routine during the girls' hospital stay.
I spent most of the day by their beds and
J made sure the electricity stayed on.

After work, we made a joint visit to tuck the girls in for the night.

Because we were bound by the staff's shift change schedule, we often didn't make it into the bay (area where the babies were) until 10pm.

Then, we spent time with each girl... talking, stroking, singing and reading to her.
A story book staple was Richard Scarry's Best Storybook Ever.

On this particular night, the girls were 6 or 7 days old.
Em was having a bad jaundice day and got to stay under the bili light during our visit.
So, J sat by her bed reading and I held Roo by her bed.

Wait.
******
Before I continue this story, you need some background information about the NICU.

It was housed on the top floor of a high rise hospital building. Nothing above the roof but air. And the floor plan is ver' important to this tale, as well.

Imagine a long rectangle.

Never mind.

It looked like this.
The girls had separate beds in the bottom right corner of box 1.


******

So, J sat by Em's bed reading from the Best Storybook Ever.
I was tucked into a corner by Roo's bed as I held her on my chest.


Something from the corner of my vision caught my attention.

I looked up and saw a strange object.

Flying.

Down the long hallway of the NICU.

Past the nurses station.

Straight towards me.

And my babies.

And I completely lost the ability to form sentences.
All I could do was say J's name. Over and over in a panicked stage whisper.

He rushed over, thinking that Roo was in crisis.

Then, he followed the direction of my wild gaze.

And saw this.

Flying directly at us.

I pulled Roo into my chest and curled myself over her.

J leaped in front of Em's crib and brandished the only weapon he had.

The Best Storybook Ever.


He slammed the bat away from our babies.
Followed it as it spun and flew back towards the other babies in bay 2.
J swung again, connected, and sent the beast to his maker.

Then, he walked back to me and the girls.

Calmly took some hand sanitizer. Put it on a paper towel.

And wiped off the book.

********
And that is why all of our nurses called him Batman.


Our hero. For real.