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As we got her ready for school, I told my girl it was Prematurity Awareness Day. She asked probing questions as she always does. I told her more. She knows, of course, that she was born early and tiny, and that she lived at the hospital for the first few months of her precious life. But the term “preemie” isn’t one we’ve used with her. I didn’t realize it until now. Perhaps it’s because I never felt the need to label her, or give her or anyone else the impression that she couldn’t be or do whatever she set her mind to. And, really, even before she greeted this world, she showed a strong determination to do just that. When she took out her own breathing tube before she was one hour old—while her birth weight and condition said she had no business doing so—I knew we couldn’t call her anything but strong. And she’s been proving us right ever since.

She went to school and told her friends about being a preemie, and she brought the little stuffed ostrich her NICU nurse at Massachusetts General Hospital had tucked into her isolette during her very first night. At the time, she wasn’t much bigger than the Beenie itself. But today…she’s not so tiny any more.

Thinking of all the other babies born too tiny, and wishing as many of them as possible have the strength of my little girl.

More?
Read my previous #fight4preemies posts:
My girl did the hard part
Early Arrivals (2009)

Visit the March of Dimes Prematurity Awareness Page:
http://www.marchofdimes.com/prematurityawareness.html

Some claim I should have PTSD. But I don’t. I’ve been told I should have struggled to cope. But I have. Folks have questioned how I managed. I just did. It’s not a complex explanation. My girl did the hard part. She survived and thrived. I just became a preemie Mom. And while it may have felt like it at the time, I’m far from alone.

I was nine weeks into my pregnancy when I found out things were going to get complicated. I’ll never forget the eerie silence in the room as the tech glided the transducer around my belly and stared at the monitor. It was my first ultrasound and I thought to myself, “She hasn’t said a word since ‘hello.’ Is it always like this?” A few minutes later, I thought, “Something’s not quite right here.” And then she said curtly, “I’ll be right back,” and slipped out of the room. She was going to get my OB. As they stared at the tiny version of my girl on the screen, they found a cystic hygroma. This one event touched off months of tests and close monitoring through my OB’s office and that of a fetal maternal specialist. This pregnancy was nothing like the brochure.

Weeks later, she was diagnosed with a bowel obstruction that would require surgery immediately after birth, and a couple weeks after that we would learn our baby probably had a heart defect. We wouldn’t be able to confirm it until 30 weeks, but we never got that far. No one anticipated premature labor, but it came. No one told me to plan for that, so I didn’t. And yet, at just the very start of my third trimester, I found myself hooked up to a fetal monitor, dosed up with magnesium sulfate in an attempt to stop the contractions, and prepped for transport to Massachusetts General Hospital, where we knew I had to deliver, but for which we hadn’t yet gotten around to planning.

I was in labor for five and a half days, desperately trying to stay pregnant. And then it happened. I instantly knew when I felt the warm flood below my sheets that things were about to dramatically change. They reacted fast, and my girl was taken from my belly…gray from the blood loss, struggling, but alive. I was unconscious and would be for hours, while she was taken to the NICU and introduced to the physicians, nurses, devices and monitors that would help keep her alive. That’s also where she met her Daddy, who slipped his wedding band on her wrist for her very first photo…and that’s how I would first meet my girl, unable to physically visit her until the next morning.

The reality is, I survived too, and I drew strength from her strength. It took some time to heal physically, but the mental struggle is often harder. A staggering 40% of mothers with premature babies develop postpartum depression, but I was fortunate to avoid that fate. Others struggle with PTSD, or harbor feelings of guilt or anxiety. Prematurity deals you both a tremendous physical and psychological challenge at a time when your world is already forever changed.

Earlier, I said “just became a preemie Mom,” and you should know by now that I don’t take that role lightly for one second. Some say being a Mom is the hardest, most rewarding job in the world. I wouldn’t disagree. Bringing a preemie into the world is a very different experience than most will know, and it often comes with a vast set of challenges that can mean days, weeks, years or a lifetime of medical, psychological and financial difficulty. Yes, don’t forget about the finances of prematurity. Preemies cost ten times more than healthy babies, to the tune of more than $26 billion a year. As if it weren’t hard enough!

While premature birth is the leading killer of newborns, we’re among the lucky ones. Out of the 543,000 premature babies born each year, mine made it, and she’s a healthy and happy 4-year-old today. She had her struggles, and several surgeries, but she’s come through with flying colors. Like the scars on her little body, the experience made its mark on me and my family. My healing probably took a backseat to my girl’s, and I recognize that I still have some work to do, but her triumphs make me see clearly that mine is a very reachable goal.

But so many others are facing the toughest battle now. With the rate of premature birth rising by 30 percent since 1981, we need more research, more answers, more understanding, and more positive action. But for now, many of us unite to share our stories, raise awareness, and ask for help. One in eight babies is born too soon…that’s 1,400 every day. You rarely expect it, but it CAN happen to you or someone you love. And we can ALL take simple steps to help. November is Prematurity Awareness Month, the second time I’ve blogged to raise awareness for prematurity. Please visit the March of Dimes to learn more and follow the discussion on Twitter with the hashtag, #fight4preemies. We fight because babies shouldn’t have to. Take any simple step you can to join us.

I’m a life-long Massachusetts resident and registered undeclared voter, meaning I choose to vote for the candidate, not the party.

I very rarely talk politics in my social media circles, but I can’t help it watching the Massachusetts Governor’s Debate now. It’s a shame Tim Cahill hasn’t managed his campaign better. He has some solid experience and great ideas, particularly in thinking with a small business mentality, but he can’t win. A vote for him now is simply helping Charlie Baker win and I can’t support that. If there was any question of Baker’s honesty and viability as a future Governor, the memo released by the AP today sealed it. He simply can’t be trusted. There’s no ideal candidate for me here, but Deval Patrick gets my vote. He hasn’t been as strong as I would’ve liked since elected, but I also wish he had been better at promoting the successes he HAS had, because there have been a number of them…in starting to enable affordable healthcare, in supporting our schools, in fostering our state’s innovation and technology, in managing a budget with tough decisions, and even in creating new avenues to jobs. There is MUCH more work to be done to improve the state of our Commonwealth, and I personally am choosing to have Patrick get back to it.

Four years ago today, I was trying to stay pregnant, but then evening came and so did my little girl. She was early…very early. So, I spent that first night unable to see her and wishing she’d make it through the night.
And that she did! So here she is making HER wish on her fourth birthday, very much a healthy, happy, active little girl. I’m so grateful for her, for the many people who helped her come into this world and get stronger, and for the family and friends who love her each and every day.

Want to give a birthday present that helps enable more healthy babies? Please consider making her wish come true by supporting us in the March for Babies: http://www.marchforbabies.org/carissao

For many people, it seems 2009 was a year of challenges, changes and reinvention. That was certainly the case for me. I started the year reflecting and observing, reading the work of some of the smartest people in Marketing and Social Media (see a start to my list here), then took some time to define my place. I started Red Box Communications just before the end of the first quarter and am so happy to say today it was the right move for me. Still, while this year saw many changes, there is SO much I can improve upon and I’m anxious to kick off 2010 by focusing on the many aspects of positive change I can personally and collaboratively drive…[more]