Here I Am Begging Again

This Saturday at 10 a.m. I'll start my six-mile-walk for a cause that's near and dear to my heart. I'm not worried because last week I walked almost 5 miles over 4 different nights. So why should 6 miles in one long stretch be a problem?

Anyway, I will walk and I will finish because in walking I'm supporting the mission of the March of Dimes which is to improve the health of babies preventing birth defects, premature birth and infant mortality.

Most people that read this are well aware of the loss of James and Jake in February of '08. And I'm sure everyone knows that our team name, and in fact our team, originated from this loss.

But most people don't know that in early May of 2004 our firstborn, Lori, gave birth to a still son at 21 weeks. Jonathan was perfect but for some unexplainable reason the bag of waters broke and he died soon afterwards. I just looked at the pictures from that day and I see so many heartbroken people holding this tiny bundle of perfection. We never understood how this could have happened and it came so out of the blue. We were blindsided and we were devastated.

Then in January of '05 the unthinkable happened again. Lori was pregnant with a baby girl and at 19 weeks a cord accident took her baby girl's life. To say we were stunned, is an understatement. It just seemed impossible that it happened twice in this lifetime. And despite they're best efforts, they have not been blessed with another child.

Then the twins.....

I'm appealing to everyone to contribute a little 'just in case'. Maybe someday they'll find out that cord accidents can be prevented and maybe someday a pill will keep the bag of waters from rupturing prematurely and maybe these things are just unpreventable. But just in case research might find a way to prevent tragedies like these maybe we could band together and a lot of people contributing a little money will save other families from the shock and horror that these unexpected losses do to a whole, extended family and especially to mothers whose hearts will never completely heal.

Research costs money. But just in case that research will help even one baby, I'm asking you to contribute $5 to this walk. If everyone did that - I mean everyone - I know in my heart of hearts, babies would be saved.

Every day, thousands of babies are born too soon, too small, very sick or even without ever seeing the light of day. I'm walking in March for Babies because I want to do something about this. And I need your help ' just in case'.

Please support my walk. Making a secure donation is easy: just click the 'sponsor me' button in the March for Dimes placard on this page. You can donate directly from my personal webpage with a credit/debit card or Paypal; or if you prefer, you can send cash or a check. Just click the appropriate box on my webpage.

Thank you for anything you can do to help this cause. And remember, every little bit helps.

Maybe Some Things Were Better In The Old Days and Maybe They Weren't

Thirty or forty years ago it wouldn't be at all unusual for a statement like this to be heard among young women, "I thought I was pregnant but I guess I was just late". And others would agree that they had had the same thing happen to them. And life went on.

Today, we don't have to be more than a day or two late before we can confirm what we're fervently hoping for or dreading fearfully. And when what we're fervently hoping for is confirmed, we can begin dreaming and celebrating. Our hearts are full and happy. We make our appointments and begin the long anticipated ritual of pregnancy. Then a few weeks later, there's that dreaded sign that everything isn't okay and later it confirmed. Devastation. Heartbreak. Loss. Pain.

After all, it's estimated that between 20 and 30% of all pregnancies end in miscarriage. This, of course, includes pregnancies that end before a woman is even late.

Back in the day, we had to be more than late. We had to miss three times before we could even make an appointment to confirm what we suspected. Then, and usually only then, could the ritual begin. The appointments. The heartbeats. The love.

On one hand it might have been better back then. There was a suspected loss but not confirmed. Plans weren't interrupted and lives weren't scarred. Maybe that was better.

Today we know early, we dream, we hope, and if it doesn't go as we'd hoped, we mourn. And maybe that's better. Maybe that life that wasn't meant to be deserves to be mourned and missed by his or her mommy.

Maybe things weren't better back in the day.