Click here to make a $5 donation to Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep Infant Bereavement Photography.
Showing posts with label NILMDTS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label NILMDTS. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
Did you see it?
Texas NILMDTS Photographer, Amber Augustin, was featured on the 3/1/09 episode of Extreme Makeover Home Edition.
I missed it so hopefully I can watch it online sometime this week.
I missed it so hopefully I can watch it online sometime this week.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Miscellaneous thoughts
--------------------------------
I deleted The Shape of a Mother from my blogroll after reading this entry. I hate how it makes me feel. I hate that I can't feel like a superhero. I hate that I'm afraid I'll never again feel comfortable in my own skin.
--------------------------------
The spring brings with it my own special torture. As the sunshine warms and the skies clear, I am reminded of those hopeful days three years ago. There are moments that I cannot let go of...sensations so clear that I feel like I can reach out and experience them again. Sensory memory. It can bring me to tears and ruin a perfectly beautiful spring day.
--------------------------------
Did you see the story of how the International Breast Milk Project saved the life of a preemie baby in Pittsburgh after her mother passed away? (Warning...you'll need Kleenex.)
The Madison Cassady Program is especially interesting to me. I wish I had known about it three years ago when I lost Alex.
--------------------------------
Speaking of breastmilk...
The stress of an upcoming jury trial does a real number on supply. I hope against hope that I can just have nurse-a-thon weekend and recover some of what we need. Keep your fingers crossed for us.
--------------------------------
I'm de-stressing by moving music to my cell phone MP3 player. I'm just now realizing how much I've missed my tunes. It's amazing how relaxing it can be to hear familiar music.
--------------------------------
A friend made a donation to the MOM Project in honor of her friend's baby, and I was able to mail out another batch of bracelets (including one to her friend). There is a certain beauty in the cyclical nature of this sadness and lifting up.
--------------------------------
I'm spending quite a bit of time volunteering for NILMDTS and I'm really enjoying it. Maybe someday I'll be brave enough to get serious about learning photography. I have a couple of friends who are really good photographers...maybe I'll ask them for some reading recommendations to get me started.
--------------------------------
Sam is playing t-ball. Next to soccer, I have never seen anything so adorable in all my life. All those munchkins trying to remember which way to run on the bases is just a great way to spend an hour of my time. I must remember to get some video soon.
--------------------------------
My husband put a pizza receipt in the checkbook...sauce and all. Lovely.
--------------------------------
I deleted The Shape of a Mother from my blogroll after reading this entry. I hate how it makes me feel. I hate that I can't feel like a superhero. I hate that I'm afraid I'll never again feel comfortable in my own skin.
--------------------------------
The spring brings with it my own special torture. As the sunshine warms and the skies clear, I am reminded of those hopeful days three years ago. There are moments that I cannot let go of...sensations so clear that I feel like I can reach out and experience them again. Sensory memory. It can bring me to tears and ruin a perfectly beautiful spring day.
--------------------------------
Did you see the story of how the International Breast Milk Project saved the life of a preemie baby in Pittsburgh after her mother passed away? (Warning...you'll need Kleenex.)
The Madison Cassady Program is especially interesting to me. I wish I had known about it three years ago when I lost Alex.
--------------------------------
Speaking of breastmilk...
The stress of an upcoming jury trial does a real number on supply. I hope against hope that I can just have nurse-a-thon weekend and recover some of what we need. Keep your fingers crossed for us.
--------------------------------
I'm de-stressing by moving music to my cell phone MP3 player. I'm just now realizing how much I've missed my tunes. It's amazing how relaxing it can be to hear familiar music.
--------------------------------
A friend made a donation to the MOM Project in honor of her friend's baby, and I was able to mail out another batch of bracelets (including one to her friend). There is a certain beauty in the cyclical nature of this sadness and lifting up.
--------------------------------
I'm spending quite a bit of time volunteering for NILMDTS and I'm really enjoying it. Maybe someday I'll be brave enough to get serious about learning photography. I have a couple of friends who are really good photographers...maybe I'll ask them for some reading recommendations to get me started.
--------------------------------
Sam is playing t-ball. Next to soccer, I have never seen anything so adorable in all my life. All those munchkins trying to remember which way to run on the bases is just a great way to spend an hour of my time. I must remember to get some video soon.
--------------------------------
My husband put a pizza receipt in the checkbook...sauce and all. Lovely.
--------------------------------
Sunday, March 09, 2008
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Simply beautiful
Check out his MySpace page, where Craig Cardiff has his original song, Smallest Wingless, that was written for Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep infant bereavement photography.
We closed the curtains...
and held each other...
...and cried.
We said hello at the same time we said goodbye.
Thank you to Craig, for this simply beautiful gift. We are honored that you care enough to lend your talents to those of us who understand your lyrics too well.
We closed the curtains...
and held each other...
...and cried.
We said hello at the same time we said goodbye.
Thank you to Craig, for this simply beautiful gift. We are honored that you care enough to lend your talents to those of us who understand your lyrics too well.
Friday, September 21, 2007
Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep
Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep
Annual Fall Gala
Join us as we celebrate the precious gifts of portraiture that we have provided for families across the country and in eight nations thanks to the Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep Foundation network of professional volunteer photographers.
Thank you photographers for your countless hours of volunteer work.
When: Saturday, November 3rd at 7pm
Where: The Atrium at South Denver Cardiology Center at 1000 SouthPark Drive in Littleton, Colorado
What: Silent auction, dinner, multi-media presentation and more!
Why: To raise money to help with numerous projects including the following:
* Training & education materials for photographers
* Support with mailings, shipping of NILMDTS materials, etc
* Overhead & payroll for NILMDTS employees
* Costs associated with our move into our new complex in 2008
Tickets: Individual tickets are $100 each. We will provide a discounted rate to our member photographers. E-mail your ticket requests to headquarters@nilmdts.org or call 720-283-3339.
NILMDTS consists of more that 3000 professional VOLUNTEER photographers. And honestly, through the photographers volunteer services, their $25.00 yearly membership fee (yes they pay a membership fee to be involved) and generous random donations from families, this is how NILMDTS has survived. This year we have recently incurred expenses by moving the foundation out of Maddux's bedroom in my home to an office space. We hired an executive director, Mrs. Jessica Roe, and two part time assistants, with a donation from White House Custom Colour. [WHCC] These three ladies have done wonders with the foundation, and are taking NILMDTS to levels we only dreamed about. They have been feverishly writing for grant requests, and until those are approved and come through, your support is still needed.
With that said, how can you help?
We are looking for items for our silent auction.
Ideas?
* New sporting equipment. (His and her golf clubs, snowboards...)
* 2 night Hotel packages
* Airline tickets
* Spa gift certificates
* Themed gift baskets
* NEW AUTOMOBILES
* Health Club memberships
* Jewlery
* Gift certificates to national chain restaurants and retail stores
* Art and sculpture
* Unique one of a kind items
And any other ideas that you can come up with.
One idea we are doing here in Denver is delivering large 'Themed' gift baskets to our local hospitals. One for L&D and the other for NICU's. Asking the nursing staff to become involved and purchase the items needed for the basket, and auctioning that basket, acknowledging the department and hospital it is coming from.
If you are able to donate any of the items above, please contact either Jessica Roe at Jessica@nilmdts.org
or Cheryl Haggard at cheryl@nilmdts.org
If you can get larger items, but think that the shipping might be a financial burden, please CONTACT US! We will come up with a way to provide the shipping for you.
As always, thank you for your support.
May you be blessed as you reach out to those suffering the death of a child.
Cheryl Haggard
Co Founder NILMDTS
303-596-6935
Annual Fall Gala
Join us as we celebrate the precious gifts of portraiture that we have provided for families across the country and in eight nations thanks to the Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep Foundation network of professional volunteer photographers.
Thank you photographers for your countless hours of volunteer work.
When: Saturday, November 3rd at 7pm
Where: The Atrium at South Denver Cardiology Center at 1000 SouthPark Drive in Littleton, Colorado
What: Silent auction, dinner, multi-media presentation and more!
Why: To raise money to help with numerous projects including the following:
* Training & education materials for photographers
* Support with mailings, shipping of NILMDTS materials, etc
* Overhead & payroll for NILMDTS employees
* Costs associated with our move into our new complex in 2008
Tickets: Individual tickets are $100 each. We will provide a discounted rate to our member photographers. E-mail your ticket requests to headquarters@nilmdts.org or call 720-283-3339.
NILMDTS consists of more that 3000 professional VOLUNTEER photographers. And honestly, through the photographers volunteer services, their $25.00 yearly membership fee (yes they pay a membership fee to be involved) and generous random donations from families, this is how NILMDTS has survived. This year we have recently incurred expenses by moving the foundation out of Maddux's bedroom in my home to an office space. We hired an executive director, Mrs. Jessica Roe, and two part time assistants, with a donation from White House Custom Colour. [WHCC] These three ladies have done wonders with the foundation, and are taking NILMDTS to levels we only dreamed about. They have been feverishly writing for grant requests, and until those are approved and come through, your support is still needed.
With that said, how can you help?
We are looking for items for our silent auction.
Ideas?
* New sporting equipment. (His and her golf clubs, snowboards...)
* 2 night Hotel packages
* Airline tickets
* Spa gift certificates
* Themed gift baskets
* NEW AUTOMOBILES
* Health Club memberships
* Jewlery
* Gift certificates to national chain restaurants and retail stores
* Art and sculpture
* Unique one of a kind items
And any other ideas that you can come up with.
One idea we are doing here in Denver is delivering large 'Themed' gift baskets to our local hospitals. One for L&D and the other for NICU's. Asking the nursing staff to become involved and purchase the items needed for the basket, and auctioning that basket, acknowledging the department and hospital it is coming from.
If you are able to donate any of the items above, please contact either Jessica Roe at Jessica@nilmdts.org
or Cheryl Haggard at cheryl@nilmdts.org
If you can get larger items, but think that the shipping might be a financial burden, please CONTACT US! We will come up with a way to provide the shipping for you.
As always, thank you for your support.
May you be blessed as you reach out to those suffering the death of a child.
Cheryl Haggard
Co Founder NILMDTS
303-596-6935
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Why Oprah?
I was a Communications major in college. I specialized in television production. Maybe that is why this whole Oprah thing perplexes me so much.
Why is the loss community so obsessed with getting to be on the Oprah show? And why, when someone like Rev Run does get on the Oprah show, does the loss community pick it apart piece by piece?
I did not see the show yesterday...and I am glad I didn't, from all accounts. Rev Run and his family apparently have a different way of dealing with things than I do. But in reading the post-mortem on this show on other blogs and message boards, I find that there are two points that seem to cause people the most irritation...
First...the family never uses the dead child's name. I think that is sad...but if that is their way of coping then they need to be left alone to do what works for their family. Some people choose not to see their babies. Some people choose not to hold their babies. Some people choose cremation...some burial. It all comes down to personal choice...and healing (which we will get to in just a moment).
And then this...
"Oprah, you know how they say mourn and give 'em space? I'm not believing in that anymore," Justine says. "That mourning gives you more mourning, more blue, more depressed."
"I want the world to know that you're supposed to be grateful in all things," Rev Run says. "I don't understand what God did, why he did it, but I do know that I'm here now, I'm happy now, I'm here on Oprah, I have my children with me, and I don't have to keep remembering this if it's going to bring me down and send me into depression."
You would think this family just told people to go sacrifice chickens or something. Irate doesn't even come close to describing the emotion that comes bubbling to the surface when people (I've noticed it is particularly mothers) hear this. And I suppose I can see the harshness in it if you internalize this message and see it as some sort of judgment of your way of handling grief. But if I take a good, hard, honest look at it...it is pretty accurate. If you sit on your sofa and mourn forever, you will always be sitting on your sofa mourning. Eventually, as hard and as sad as it is, you have to get up and leave the safety of your grief and face the world head on. It sucks...and I doubt anyone would disagree with that. But you will never find joy again unless you actively look for it...unless you push the sadness aside and make room for life and happiness. And THAT, I think, is a perfectly reasonable message.
Which leads me to my point of confusion. If you don't have an inspirational story to tell...if you have no hopeful message to share...why on earth would you want Oprah to do a show about it? I see online petitions all the time for Oprah to do a show on Pregnancy and Infant Loss. Why? What exactly would this show look like? A bunch of bereaved mothers sitting on a soundstage crying and talking about how they miss their babies so much? Click. I wouldn't watch that if you paid me.
I WOULD watch a show about women who have turned their grief into something...Cheryl Haggard of Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep, Infant Bereavement Photography...Lisa Rebman, the MOM Project...Karen of Faith Hope and Charity Stitches, Inc...the women and men leading the charge to get stillbirth certificates issued to grieving parents. Someone with a message of healing and hope...not someone who sits on their couch grieving all day.
Look at what they are working on for future shows...
Up for a GREEN CHALLENGE?
CHICAGO ONLY: Do You Have Questions About Darfur?
Are You Confused by World Events?
Think you look EXACTLY like your PET? PROVE IT!
Is your home COMPLETELY CLUTTERED inside AND out?
Why Aren't You Happy?
What is Your Secret to Happiness?
Do Your Dance Moves Need Updating?
Is your BACKYARD, PATIO, LAWN or GARDEN a DISASTER
Creative Moms
How Do You Live?
Specific Question About Clutter?
Lacking Organizational Skills?
Are You in Desperate Need For A Spring Cleaning?
Need Help Downsizing Your House?
Schools That Are Changing the World
Inspiring Ways to Cope w/ the Loss of a Loved One
Ask Dr Oz about your children's health!
Does your child have a question for Dr. Oz?
Did our show INSPIRE you to help others?
Do you have burning questions about The Road?
Do You Have A Funny Home Video?
Is Your Child VERY Overweight?
How are you Paying It Forward?
Is your daughter showing signs of early puberty?
Do you have an Embarrassing Medical Problem?
Solving problems. Enjoying life. Inspiring us to be better people. All the show ideas have the same theme. Positivity. I just don't see Oprah changing the mold of her very successful show...and I don't see why she should.
Even if you dressed it up as an educational show...what would we really be educating about? It takes about ten seconds to deliver the message...It happens more than you think and it CAN happen to YOU. Beyond that, what would you talk about for the other 59 minutes and 50 seconds (minus time for commercials)?
If Oprah is so darn important, then there needs to be a concerted effort to support those people who HAVE done something positive with their grief. Instead of cutting down Rev Run and his family, we should be supporting them and their story. It might not be a perfect example of how WE choose to grieve, but few things are perfect in this life.
Why is the loss community so obsessed with getting to be on the Oprah show? And why, when someone like Rev Run does get on the Oprah show, does the loss community pick it apart piece by piece?
I did not see the show yesterday...and I am glad I didn't, from all accounts. Rev Run and his family apparently have a different way of dealing with things than I do. But in reading the post-mortem on this show on other blogs and message boards, I find that there are two points that seem to cause people the most irritation...
First...the family never uses the dead child's name. I think that is sad...but if that is their way of coping then they need to be left alone to do what works for their family. Some people choose not to see their babies. Some people choose not to hold their babies. Some people choose cremation...some burial. It all comes down to personal choice...and healing (which we will get to in just a moment).
And then this...
"Oprah, you know how they say mourn and give 'em space? I'm not believing in that anymore," Justine says. "That mourning gives you more mourning, more blue, more depressed."
"I want the world to know that you're supposed to be grateful in all things," Rev Run says. "I don't understand what God did, why he did it, but I do know that I'm here now, I'm happy now, I'm here on Oprah, I have my children with me, and I don't have to keep remembering this if it's going to bring me down and send me into depression."
You would think this family just told people to go sacrifice chickens or something. Irate doesn't even come close to describing the emotion that comes bubbling to the surface when people (I've noticed it is particularly mothers) hear this. And I suppose I can see the harshness in it if you internalize this message and see it as some sort of judgment of your way of handling grief. But if I take a good, hard, honest look at it...it is pretty accurate. If you sit on your sofa and mourn forever, you will always be sitting on your sofa mourning. Eventually, as hard and as sad as it is, you have to get up and leave the safety of your grief and face the world head on. It sucks...and I doubt anyone would disagree with that. But you will never find joy again unless you actively look for it...unless you push the sadness aside and make room for life and happiness. And THAT, I think, is a perfectly reasonable message.
Which leads me to my point of confusion. If you don't have an inspirational story to tell...if you have no hopeful message to share...why on earth would you want Oprah to do a show about it? I see online petitions all the time for Oprah to do a show on Pregnancy and Infant Loss. Why? What exactly would this show look like? A bunch of bereaved mothers sitting on a soundstage crying and talking about how they miss their babies so much? Click. I wouldn't watch that if you paid me.
I WOULD watch a show about women who have turned their grief into something...Cheryl Haggard of Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep, Infant Bereavement Photography...Lisa Rebman, the MOM Project...Karen of Faith Hope and Charity Stitches, Inc...the women and men leading the charge to get stillbirth certificates issued to grieving parents. Someone with a message of healing and hope...not someone who sits on their couch grieving all day.
Look at what they are working on for future shows...
Up for a GREEN CHALLENGE?
CHICAGO ONLY: Do You Have Questions About Darfur?
Are You Confused by World Events?
Think you look EXACTLY like your PET? PROVE IT!
Is your home COMPLETELY CLUTTERED inside AND out?
Why Aren't You Happy?
What is Your Secret to Happiness?
Do Your Dance Moves Need Updating?
Is your BACKYARD, PATIO, LAWN or GARDEN a DISASTER
Creative Moms
How Do You Live?
Specific Question About Clutter?
Lacking Organizational Skills?
Are You in Desperate Need For A Spring Cleaning?
Need Help Downsizing Your House?
Schools That Are Changing the World
Inspiring Ways to Cope w/ the Loss of a Loved One
Ask Dr Oz about your children's health!
Does your child have a question for Dr. Oz?
Did our show INSPIRE you to help others?
Do you have burning questions about The Road?
Do You Have A Funny Home Video?
Is Your Child VERY Overweight?
How are you Paying It Forward?
Is your daughter showing signs of early puberty?
Do you have an Embarrassing Medical Problem?
Solving problems. Enjoying life. Inspiring us to be better people. All the show ideas have the same theme. Positivity. I just don't see Oprah changing the mold of her very successful show...and I don't see why she should.
Even if you dressed it up as an educational show...what would we really be educating about? It takes about ten seconds to deliver the message...It happens more than you think and it CAN happen to YOU. Beyond that, what would you talk about for the other 59 minutes and 50 seconds (minus time for commercials)?
If Oprah is so darn important, then there needs to be a concerted effort to support those people who HAVE done something positive with their grief. Instead of cutting down Rev Run and his family, we should be supporting them and their story. It might not be a perfect example of how WE choose to grieve, but few things are perfect in this life.
Friday, December 08, 2006
1026
I just finished several months worth of work entering 1026 photographers and their contact information into a database for Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep.
1026 photographers who give their time and talent freely.
1026 photographers who open their hearts to parents who are saying goodbye to a child.
1026 photographers who don't ask for individual recognition but instead quietly represent the spirit of human kindness that this world complains it lacks.
1026 wonderful people.
1026 photographers who give their time and talent freely.
1026 photographers who open their hearts to parents who are saying goodbye to a child.
1026 photographers who don't ask for individual recognition but instead quietly represent the spirit of human kindness that this world complains it lacks.
1026 wonderful people.
Friday, September 08, 2006
Marking time for (a year and) four months.
Last year at this time I made a list of what I've been doing other than grieving...and it seems like a good way to pass this day as well.
~Still doing animal rescue...though slightly scaled back due to gas prices.
~Still crafting...though less for charity and more for gifts for friends with new babies.
~Still mystery shopping...this weekend a "conflict diamonds" mystery shop. Sparkly things and making managers uncomfortable...this is fun stuff!
~Still volunteering with Memories of Mariam...making free memorial items...mother's bracelets and commemorative certificates.
~Not so much cleaning. Lots of playing. Trying not to lose my mind in the mess that is my house.
~Watching the destruction/construction.
~Working on a NILMDTS database. I also just signed up to be a parent coordinator to promote the organization.
~Talking to my June 2002 mommy friends about a planned vacation in October. I finally get to meet them! I've only met one so far so this is exciting for me, since we've known each other for five years already!
~Trying to figure out how to get the airport card to work in our old iMac.
~Planning my new flower garden...which will be extensively worked on as soon as they stop driving trucks around and over the area I plan to put it.
~Shopping for all things house-related.
~Enlisting the help of friends and coworkers to find someone to give Travis' baby stuff to...someone far enough removed from us that we won't ever run into them.
~Trying to work...though not doing a very good job at it.
~Gaining weight and hating my body.
Four months ago our world fell apart...again.
Instead of excitedly anticipating the arrival of our son on September 23rd, we are ordering another headstone.
Sometimes life seems unbelievably cruel.
~Still doing animal rescue...though slightly scaled back due to gas prices.
~Still crafting...though less for charity and more for gifts for friends with new babies.
~Still mystery shopping...this weekend a "conflict diamonds" mystery shop. Sparkly things and making managers uncomfortable...this is fun stuff!
~Still volunteering with Memories of Mariam...making free memorial items...mother's bracelets and commemorative certificates.
~Not so much cleaning. Lots of playing. Trying not to lose my mind in the mess that is my house.
~Watching the destruction/construction.
~Working on a NILMDTS database. I also just signed up to be a parent coordinator to promote the organization.
~Talking to my June 2002 mommy friends about a planned vacation in October. I finally get to meet them! I've only met one so far so this is exciting for me, since we've known each other for five years already!
~Trying to figure out how to get the airport card to work in our old iMac.
~Planning my new flower garden...which will be extensively worked on as soon as they stop driving trucks around and over the area I plan to put it.
~Shopping for all things house-related.
~Enlisting the help of friends and coworkers to find someone to give Travis' baby stuff to...someone far enough removed from us that we won't ever run into them.
~Trying to work...though not doing a very good job at it.
~Gaining weight and hating my body.
Four months ago our world fell apart...again.
Instead of excitedly anticipating the arrival of our son on September 23rd, we are ordering another headstone.
Sometimes life seems unbelievably cruel.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Today
I'm going for the lighthearted stuff today because I have a headache and I know I'm going to feel like crap tomorrow through Monday (and probably blog sad stuff).
Today I cleaned the gunk out of my computer mouse and it has made all the difference. Two thoughts...(1)What IS that stuff and how did it get in there? and (2)Why didn't I do this sooner?
Today I am paying for the overindulgence in nuts yesterday. Note to self...find some self control...this is not worth it.
Today is payday! And we got our escrow refund from our old mortgage company! Money, money, money...
Today I realized that my failure to pay for tracking on a jewelry return to Limoges Jewelry will probably result in no exchange or refund. $89 lost in the mail. God, I'm an idiot. But I still hold the q-tip who works at the local post office partly responsible...since he didn't even OFFER me any sort of tracking or insurance. grrrr
Today (well, actually yesterday, but you're not keeping track, are you?) I received a lovely email from a lovely woman who has been reading this blog. The kindness of strangers (especially women) always brings tears to my eyes. I promise I will return your email, M, as soon as I get past this week of funk.
Today FedEx tried to deliver my new cell phone (phone, camera, MP3 player, robot...I'm kidding about the robot thing...but it does all that other stuff which I think is way cool!). Unfortunately, the FedEx guy wouldn't accept a signature from someone on my house work crew, so I have to wait another day so that I can sign the appropriate door tag and leave it for him to just drop off on my porch (if I still have a porch...which I'm not sure I do).
Today I spent all day at work reading funny things and trying to avoid pregnancy and baby-related things. My mood would qualify as 'good' if I could just get rid of this dang headache.
Today I worked on volunteer stuff for Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep. I forgot to mention that I've joined their effort in a Parent Coordinator capacity. I'm also doing some data entry work. Over 900 professional photographers in the US, Canada, and several other countries. All because of the dedication and hard work of a handful of people who had an idea. Amazing. I am inspired.
Today I realized I don't have any yarn to make my friend Kathi a baby gift. I have blue...she definitely needs pink for her little girl baby. What to do...what to do... Shop, of course! Good thing the weekend is just around the corner (and it's a weekend after a payday too!).
Today I concluded that I need new shoes. I am currently nursing an aggravated ankle from too much high heel wearing at work...so I am wearing completely inappropriate flip flops. I hope I don't get called in to court.
Today I couldn't find the doppler. It's not for me...no way...no how. It's for a friend. I actually sent it to her a while ago and she sent it back recently though she didn't really need to and I lost it in the great house funkwash of 2006. So now I need to find it so I can send it back to her again. But I don't know where we put it. Yeah, just what I want to do...spend time looking for a doppler in my pit of a house. Somehow I see myself portrayed by Meryl Streep in this sad drama. But that could just be because the face recognizer thing said I look like her (which I totally do not).
Tomorrow's another day. Can I just skip it? Or maybe I'll drink my way through it.
Cheers!
Today I cleaned the gunk out of my computer mouse and it has made all the difference. Two thoughts...(1)What IS that stuff and how did it get in there? and (2)Why didn't I do this sooner?
Today I am paying for the overindulgence in nuts yesterday. Note to self...find some self control...this is not worth it.
Today is payday! And we got our escrow refund from our old mortgage company! Money, money, money...
Today I realized that my failure to pay for tracking on a jewelry return to Limoges Jewelry will probably result in no exchange or refund. $89 lost in the mail. God, I'm an idiot. But I still hold the q-tip who works at the local post office partly responsible...since he didn't even OFFER me any sort of tracking or insurance. grrrr
Today (well, actually yesterday, but you're not keeping track, are you?) I received a lovely email from a lovely woman who has been reading this blog. The kindness of strangers (especially women) always brings tears to my eyes. I promise I will return your email, M, as soon as I get past this week of funk.
Today FedEx tried to deliver my new cell phone (phone, camera, MP3 player, robot...I'm kidding about the robot thing...but it does all that other stuff which I think is way cool!). Unfortunately, the FedEx guy wouldn't accept a signature from someone on my house work crew, so I have to wait another day so that I can sign the appropriate door tag and leave it for him to just drop off on my porch (if I still have a porch...which I'm not sure I do).
Today I spent all day at work reading funny things and trying to avoid pregnancy and baby-related things. My mood would qualify as 'good' if I could just get rid of this dang headache.
Today I worked on volunteer stuff for Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep. I forgot to mention that I've joined their effort in a Parent Coordinator capacity. I'm also doing some data entry work. Over 900 professional photographers in the US, Canada, and several other countries. All because of the dedication and hard work of a handful of people who had an idea. Amazing. I am inspired.
Today I realized I don't have any yarn to make my friend Kathi a baby gift. I have blue...she definitely needs pink for her little girl baby. What to do...what to do... Shop, of course! Good thing the weekend is just around the corner (and it's a weekend after a payday too!).
Today I concluded that I need new shoes. I am currently nursing an aggravated ankle from too much high heel wearing at work...so I am wearing completely inappropriate flip flops. I hope I don't get called in to court.
Today I couldn't find the doppler. It's not for me...no way...no how. It's for a friend. I actually sent it to her a while ago and she sent it back recently though she didn't really need to and I lost it in the great house funkwash of 2006. So now I need to find it so I can send it back to her again. But I don't know where we put it. Yeah, just what I want to do...spend time looking for a doppler in my pit of a house. Somehow I see myself portrayed by Meryl Streep in this sad drama. But that could just be because the face recognizer thing said I look like her (which I totally do not).
Tomorrow's another day. Can I just skip it? Or maybe I'll drink my way through it.
Cheers!
Sunday, August 20, 2006
From the South Bend Tribune
August 06. 2006 6:59AM
Now I lay me down to sleep, Part 1: A pregnancy's frantic turn
OTHER STORIES IN THIS SERIES: NOW I LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP
First of four parts
HEIDI PRESCOTT
Tribune Staff Writer
Brittany Baich craned her neck to see the screen as the technician spread cold gel across her swollen abdomen.
As soon as the small plastic device pressed down on her body, a black-and-white image of her healthy 37-week-old baby quickly appeared.
Brittany studied his perfect little profile in awe. She pointed to his eyes and nose as her own mom cried happy tears at the end of the bed at this first glimpse of her grandson.
Then, just as suddenly, the baby lifted one arm and then the other in front of his face, moving here and there and distorting their view.
Although her obstetrician ordered the exam that morning after she developed raised blood pressure and protein in her urine, misgivings never entered Brittany's mind. Sure, she was tired and nauseated in her first trimester late last summer, but her pregnancy had been complication-free.
"I hope it is a boy, I hope it is a boy," she kept thinking as the Memorial Hospital technician quietly collected her son's measurements.
Brittany broke the silence.
"Can you make sure this is a boy?" the 18-year-old bashfully asked. "Because I'll be really upset if it's a girl and she has to wear blue."
As the afternoon of March 8 turned to early evening, the doctors told Brittany she could go home. She was relieved to hear her blood pressure had returned to normal and things appeared fine on the ultrasound. And, yes, she would be delivering a baby boy.
Her mom drove her up Indiana 933 to Denny's, where they devoured big breakfast platters before she dropped Brittany home on the outskirts of downtown South Bend. Brittany climbed the steps to her second-floor apartment on Leland Avenue.
Feeling full and tired, Brittany couldn't resist the urge to lie down. A nap sounded perfect, because her boyfriend, 25-year-old Otis Wigfall, had not yet returned home from helping a friend build a fence in North Liberty. It was his day off work at local factory Handex.
Brittany awoke about 9 p.m. and started preparing for bed. She undressed and wrapped a towel around her big tummy before heading for the bathroom. She urinated into a plastic container, because the doctors instructed her to collect her urine for 24 hours.
That's when she felt a gush.
Startled, she looked over her pregnant stomach and saw blood streaming between her legs, spewing into the toilet.
"I was freaking out because I didn't know, Was I going into labor? But why am I not in pain? I started panicking because every time I moved an inch it seemed pints of blood would come out," she says.
She quickly pulled out her cell phone and called her father, who lived in the neighborhood. He was her backup plan in case Otis was working when she went into labor.
Brittany almost passed out, still bleeding as she hung up with her dad and frantically phoned Otis.
"I said, 'Maybe you're in labor, so calm down and just breathe,'" Otis recalls saying as he finished the fencing job, promising to start for home.
Hearing sirens, Brittany turned toward the bathroom door, "knowing if I didn't have the strength to go open the door downstairs that my son and I were going to die."
Blood dripped on the carpet as she stumbled down a steep flights of stairs and fumbled for the right key to unlock the door.
Slowly she lowered herself to the floor as her dad dashed up the sidewalk and opened the door. And as the ambulance arrived, questions raced through her head.
The EMTs placed Brittany, weak from blood loss, flat on her back on a stretcher. She put her hands on her stomach, moving them around nervously as the ambulance took off for the hospital.
Kick.
She felt her baby move for the first time since she started bleeding, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
"I figured he was going to be OK," says Brittany, who felt the baby change positions inside of her, as he had so many times in the last few months.
Meanwhile, Otis thought everything was fine with Brittany as he packed up his belongings in North Liberty. Then the 25-year-old received a call from Brittany's mom.
"She was like, 'You need to hurry up! Where are you? Where are you? Where are you?'" Otis says.
As soon as he hung up, the phone rang again. This time, it was Brittany's brother.
"He was like, 'Where the hell are you?' And that's when I knew something was really wrong," Otis says, "because he doesn't panic too much, he's pretty solid."
As he sped to the hospital, he wondered whether he would be too squeamish to cut his son's umbilical cord.
"I didn't think I was gonna be able to do it," says Otis, who feels queasy in hospitals and around blood.
As medics rushed Brittany into surgery, doctors asked a flurry of questions. "I was so confused," she says, "I didn't have any answers."
The doctors told her they were going to perform an emergency C-section. "And they put me under," she says.
After surgery, Brittany woke to see her dad, mom and two older brothers.
"Where's my baby?" Brittany asked her mom.
No response.
"Where's Otis?" she asked.
"He's coming."
"Where's my baby?" Brittany demanded.
Again, her mom was quiet.
Then without a word, her mom and brothers stood up and walked out.
Only her dad stayed.
Looking at his daughter, he gently spoke.
"I'm not going to lie to you. Your baby is going to die."
-------------------------------------------
August 07. 2006 6:59AM
Now I lay me down to sleep, Part 2: A heartbreaking decision
HEIDI PRESCOTT
Tribune Staff Writer
Second of four parts
From her hospital bed, Brittany Baich looked up at her dad. He was overreacting, she thought. Her baby boy was not going to die.
"You know how you see all the medical shows on TV and everything goes so wrong but somehow it's always OK in the end? I thought maybe things really did go bad, but maybe things weren't completely wrong," she says. "I thought with all the technology, everything would be OK."
"And," she says, "I thought I got there quick enough."
Brittany was transported to Memorial Hospital after she started bleeding, 37 weeks into her pregnancy, at home. Her boyfriend, Otis Wigfall, arrived shortly after her emergency C-section, and a nurse showed them to the Newborn Intensive Care Unit, where doctors and nurses care for premature babies and babies born with health problems.
They washed their hands in sinks inside the door and then the nurse pushed Brittany's wheelchair inside the room.
The NICU is a place where babies are attached by wires to machines that flash heartbeats and breathing patterns, where some are fed by tubes, and others receive puffs of air in their noses. Lights flash and buzzers sound above swaddled infants inside incubators and on small open beds, alerting nurses to their changing conditions.
Brittany's little boy was lying in an open bed and a light was shining down to warm his body. The nurse wheeled Brittany to his side.
"Oh my gosh," she said in a whisper.
She looked at his beautiful face and dark wavy hair, so proud. And yet it was so heartbreaking to see the tubes and wires streaming from his body to the monitors and machines.
As tears trickled down her cheeks, Brittany did her best to stand. She raised her hand to gently run a finger across his soft skin, then she stroked his hair.
"What is his name?" a nurse gently inquired.
Brittany had invested hours thumbing through books of names from the library. A few times at work telemarketing at Americall in South Bend, colleagues warned her to put the books away.
She and Otis had narrowed the field down to five, but the couple hadn't agreed on the final selection.
"Braylin," she decided, and she asked the nurse for a pen and paper. After scribbling the name a few different ways, she decided on the spelling.
A nurse wrote his name, his weight, 5 pounds, 12 ounces, and his length, 19 inches, on a light blue card with a Sesame Street sticker in the corner and taped it to the bed.
She brought them a hospital camera, and Brittany and Otis took photos. Each tube and wire affixed to his little head, face and body connected him to a different machine. He appeared to be resting peacefully in just a diaper, his fingers curled under as his hands rested on his chest.
Brittany gently picked up his left hand and wrapped his fingers around hers.
That night, she went back to her room, but she could not begin to sleep without Braylin. She leaned back in bed awake, staring at nothing in particular, worrying about her baby.
Meanwhile, Brittany's mom, Kay, went back to her daughter's apartment. "I walked in and saw the baby things, and there was blood everywhere -- I wasn't prepared for that."
On Thursday morning, Dr. Femi Okanlami entered their room and sat beside them. He immediately recognized Otis, who had gone to Marian High School with his daughter.
Braylin had shown no signs of life at birth, the doctor informed them, and it took more than five minutes of resuscitation for doctors to find a heartbeat.
"He explained I had an abruption and (Braylin) was without food and oxygen for too long," Brittany says.
Okanlami told Brittany not to blame herself; she did nothing wrong.
"I thought maybe I ate too much" at Denny's, she says.
"They also explained to me if I had not gotten to the door downstairs to unlock it, or I would have waited five minutes longer, I would've died because I was hemorrhaging."
Brittany was lucky.
But Braylin was without air for so long, he suffered significant brain damage. And that damage couldn't be reversed, so continuing life support did not offer any certainties.
He might never awaken.
He might not be able to feed himself, or walk, or talk.
"The doctor told us keeping him on the machines was just prolonging his death," Brittany says. "There was nothing else we could do."
They talked about their options in private, letting Okanlami know a little while later that they wanted to take Braylin off the ventilator.
Memorial chaplain Bridget Smith asked the couple if they wanted Braylin to be baptized. They agreed and asked her to administer the sacrament.
Brittany, Otis, their parents and a number of other relatives all gathered around Braylin's bedside, where curtains helped provide some privacy in the intensive care unit.
For the first time, Brittany held her little boy.
She felt so nervous.
"I didn't want to disconnect anything," she says. "And I didn't want to rock him or hold him wrong because I had never held a baby before."
Otis knelt beside her as they gently laid a little white gown over Braylin, and Bridget began to speak.
Today we bring this infant, Braylin, to Jesus, believing He reaches out to receive him in His arms and blesses him.
Braylin, I baptize you in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Then family members said their good-byes and departed.
Brittany and Otis stayed, lovingly cuddling, kissing and hugging Braylin.
"Part of us wanted to keep him on the machines as long as possible, but to see him like that ..." Otis says. "We didn't want to remember him like that."
A nurse started to turn each machine off and remove each tube and wire. As the final machine shut down, it made a gentle whooshing sound.
It was 1:20 p.m.
Brittany wept as she cradled Braylin in her wheelchair. Otis cried as he placed one hand on Braylin's head and the other on Brittany's shoulder.
"After they removed his lifeline, we didn't think he was going to make it two minutes," Otis says. "We thought that was it."
Then, something happened.
They heard tiny breaths.
-------------------------------------------
August 08. 2006 6:59AM
Now I lay me down to sleep, Part 3: Cherishing every moment
HEIDI PRESCOTT
Tribune Staff Writer
Third of four parts
Every breath brought hope. Brittany Baich and boyfriend Otis Wigfall wondered: If Braylin could breathe on his own, maybe he would be OK after all.
"We thought, 'Wow, they were wrong, he's going to live. He's going to live,' " Otis says.
A minute passed.
Then two. Then three.
As Braylin kept breathing, a nurse suggested they take him back to their room for privacy. Once there, Memorial Hospital chaplain Bridget Smith asked them whether they wanted to collect some keepsakes.
"Brittany said yes, whatever we had to offer she wanted because she really wanted to remember the time she had with Braylin," Bridget says.
She made handprints and footprints with the parents. A nurse helped them cut a lock of Braylin's dark brown hair, which Otis thinks would have looked like his.
Bridget showed the couple a "remembering" heart necklace. They would place the small inside heart around Braylin's neck, later, and keep the large outer heart for themselves.
And they took pictures. Lots and lots of pictures.
"I held him on my chest so he could hear my heart beat," Brittany says. "I don't think I let Otis hold him that much."
"No, not at first," Otis says. "Then she asked me if I wanted to hold him, and I said, 'Now that's a dumb question.' "
Sometimes Braylin breathed normally, and it looked and sounded as if he was asleep.
At those times, "We thought he was too strong, he couldn't die," Otis says.
Then Braylin would stop.
He would start turning blue, his body would stiffen and he would clench his tiny fists.
"He wouldn't breathe for like a minute," Brittany says, "then out of nowhere he would gasp for air. That happened so many times, and every time we thought it was the last."
Every second they held him seemed like an eternity. It was during these sacred but painful hours that Bridget told them about a photographer.
About Eileen Dimino.
"I told them there is a photographer in town who would donate her time to photograph a baby who is terminal," she says. "They were such a nice family and Braylin was so photogenic. I thought it would be important for them."
Eileen arrived with cameras and flashes in hand about 8 p.m. Thursday. "I didn't know what to expect, but I was able to treat them like a regular family."
She hung a black backdrop in their room and gently issued instructions for different poses with their son.
"Dad, move this way."
"Mom, if it's OK with baby, let's move him that way."
The mood was solemn, even more so when Braylin gasped for air. Everything and everyone would stop and look until he drew another breath.
Eileen stayed about 15 minutes. "He's so beautiful," she told the parents before she left, having taken about a dozen photos. "You're so blessed."
Otis, Brittany and her mother took turns holding Braylin overnight.
He was never set down.
Nurses came in periodically to check his vital signs. The one time they took him out of the room, only a few seconds passed before Brittany frantically hit the nurse's button on her bed. "I wanted my baby," she remembers.
Otis said they kept trying to will Braylin to wake up, so the three could go home.
He held Braylin on his lap for a while, kind of tickling his left foot, when the baby suddenly jerked his leg "as if to say, 'Leave me alone,'" Otis says.
Braylin's leg movement was something Otis would not tell Brittany about until months later. He was afraid it would give her more false hope.
The chaplain greeted the couple early Friday morning, asking what they needed. "It is a roller coaster not knowing, but it is a peaceful time, too," she says. "The family savored every moment."
She asked Brittany and Otis if they wanted to take Braylin outside. Early that afternoon, they bundled him up in a blue and yellow quilt made by volunteers and held Braylin in the courtyard in front of the hospital, watching and waiting.
"We finally got to be alone with no one telling us what to do," Otis says.
Braylin began struggling again, "so we went back to the room," Brittany says.
He breathed and stopped. Breathed and stopped.
Then everything was silent.
"I thought he was going to start breathing again," Brittany says.
But he didn't.
Two-day-old Braylin took his last breath at 1:15 p.m. Friday, cradled in the arms of his mom.
-------------------------------------------
August 09. 2006 6:59AM
Now I lay me down to sleep, Part 4: 'He's right here with me'
NOW I LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP: THOSE WHO CRADLE MICHIANA'S LITTLEST PATIENTS
HEIDI PRESCOTT
Tribune Staff Writer
Last of four parts
Before calling a nurse, Brittany Baich and Otis Wigfall cuddled close to Braylin. They would never know the sound of his voice or the color of his eyes.
"That's what I wanted him to do so bad. I wanted him to see his mommy and daddy," Brittany said.
Even though Braylin never opened his eyes to see the world and people around him, Brittany takes comfort from the fact that he lived long enough to hear their voices and to feel their touch.
He breathed on his own for a full 24 hours.
"Braylin didn't want to go to heaven yet. He wanted to spend time with his family and make some memories. When he accomplished that, he let go," she said softly.
His funeral was on the following Tuesday. The service was small.
Brittany and Otis mounted Eileen Dimino's photos of Braylin on posterboard for family to see. Dr. Femi Okanlami and members of the Newborn Intensive Care Unit nursing staff attended.
"Not only are we doctors, we are human beings, too, and feel the loss," the doctor said.
There, chaplain Bridget Smith recounted the story of David and Goliath.
The chaplain compared the armor David took off to fight the giant to the monitoring wires and oxygen lines Braylin found he could live, at least for a little while, without.
"He stayed alive for so long, even though they took all of his armor off," Otis said of the story later, with emotion. "He stayed alive and kept fighting."
At his funeral, Braylin wore an outfit of light blue, with a football patch on the front and a blue cap on his head. It was supposed to be the outfit he wore home.
Before his casket was shut, Brittany and Otis took a final few photos of their baby and said their final goodbyes.
Kneeling beside the coffin, Otis and Brittany placed inside with Braylin the black cap Otis wore those two days at the hospital and a pair of little Iverson shoes. And they gave him a small football.
He was buried at 1 p.m. at Southlawn Cemetery in South Bend, the last plot in a row of other babies and children, on a cold March morning.
Under a shelter at his grave, Bridget recited a bedtime prayer that Otis said when he was a little boy:
Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord my soul to keep
If I should die before I wake
I pray the Lord my soul to take. Amen.
***
Brittany and Otis are still together in their Leland Avenue apartment.All they have are keepsakes. A little newborn diaper. A bag of tubes that connected Braylin to monitors. His white baptismal gown. Their part of a heart necklace that they placed around him before the casket was closed. And photos -- dozens of photos.
Family snapshots are preserved in an album on Brittany's dresser. The professional photos mounted on posterboard from Braylin's funeral lean up against their living room wall, resting on a wooden diaper changing table.
"I see them every day," Brittany says of the images Dimino took of her son hours before he died the afternoon of March 10.
Someday, Brittany will show her future children what their brother, her firstborn child, looked like.
"The photos have helped me heal," she says. "I just take a look at the pictures and remember him being in my arms, breathing on his own."
When she is having a hard time falling asleep, Brittany relaxes by listening to Braylin. After he was taken off the ventilator, Otis taped their baby breathing into Brittany's cell phone.
On the surprisingly clear recording, Braylin sounds as if he is asleep and snoring, first very softly, then louder.
Brittany often holds it up to her ear, pressing it over and over again. Otis one day hopes to stream the minute-long sounds on a tape for several minutes so Brittany could simply press "play."
"But I can't listen to it," Otis says tenderly, looking downward. "It makes me cry."
Months later, a question lingers in Brittany's mind.
"I wonder why it happened and why it happened like that and I don't know why," she says.
"I don't know what the reason is, either," Otis adds. "But he's in a better place and one day I'll know what the reason is. Had Eileen not come to take the pictures, it would be so much worse, because we're still going through stuff right now."
A few times, they have watched a DVD of photos set to "Hush Little Baby" that Dimino made. Brittany's older brother, Adam, made her a second DVD to snapshots the family took, set to "If I Saw You in Heaven," by Eric Clapton.
"When I watch the slide show I feel like I'm holding Braylin again. I feel as though he's right here with me in my arms," Brittany says.
In her dreams, she sees Braylin, and he opens his eyes.
"And everything is OK," she says.
When they first came home, they saw two little boys running in the neighborhood. Brittany and Otis looked at one another and said, "Yep, that would be Braylin, running around and jumping up and down."
Every Monday is "cemetery day," when they head south in their black Lincoln Town Car to visit Braylin.
A small marker reads, "Braylin Lamar Baich, March 8, 2006 to March 10, 2006." Otis and Brittany are saving for a larger, heart-shaped headstone where they will etch Braylin's photo and the saying, "Our little warrior."
What does their future hold? Brittany and Otis are talking about marriage. Even though their families lived just a few houses apart when they were growing up in South Bend, a recent trip Brittany took with Otis' family was an important one.
Do they want to have more children?
"I do," Brittany quickly says.
Otis does not respond right away.
"For her to have to go through all this," Otis says, looking down at his son's grave. "We have to take it a day at a time. I want to have more kids, but not right now."
Staff writer Heidi Prescott: hprescott@sbtinfo.com (574) 235-6070
-------------------------------------------
August 09. 2006 6:59AM
A record of their stay on earth
Photographer works to document dying babies
NOW I LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP: THOSE WHO CRADLE MICHIANA'S LITTLEST PATIENTS
HEIDI PRESCOTT
Tribune Staff Writer
SOUTH BEND -- All Eileen Dimino has to remember her father by are memories and a few pictures.
Her father died when she was 5. She has always wished she had more photos taken with her dad.
"I see the same ones of me with him over and over again; I was the third kid, so I didn't get the same attention" photo-wise as her older siblings, she says. It is one reason she became a photographer.
Another reason is the time she spent abroad as a Saint Mary's College sophomore: She took 70 rolls of photos in less than seven months in Rome.
Dimino spent the first few years after college working at photography studios in the South Bend area and elsewhere in the state, where she learned the ins and outs of taking pictures of babies and children.
Babies cannot be rushed, while the typical youngster will follow instruction for as long as 15 minutes. And Dimino is not above using Gerber puffs and candy as bribery, she says with a chuckle.
But in October, she learned about a relatively new national program called Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep during a photographers seminar in Illinois. This is the story they heard:
A Denver photographer received a phone call in February 2005 from a man who asked her to come to the hospital to photograph his newborn baby. Starting to schedule something for the following week, the man said, "No thanks, that will be too late." His son would be removed from life support that night.
The photographer instantly cleared her schedule. She took pictures of the baby and his parents while he breathed on the respirator, then without any tubes and wires, realizing there would be no chance for retakes. The death of their baby boy was devastating, but the photos helped them heal."We were all bawling, and Michael (her husband) and I cried in the parking lot," Dimino recalls, "and we said, 'How can we not take part in this?'æ"
After Christmas, she contacted chaplain Bridget Smith at Memorial Hospital in South Bend and told her about the program. Dimino asked if she could forge a partnership, of sorts, with the hospital to be called upon to photograph a baby who is going to die.
She met with Smith, who spoke with Memorial officials about Dimino and Traditions, her relatively new photography studio in South Bend, and her intentions.
"She knows how important the photos are as keepsakes," Smith says, "for a family to have a record that their child was here, and was significant, and was loved."
Dimino received the call about Braylin Baich the afternoon of March 9.
"She asked how quickly I could come, and I said about 9 (at night)," she recalls.
Could she arrive any sooner? Smith knew Braylin could take his last breath at any moment.
"I told them I would try," Dimino says, knowing she had to find a baby sitter for her son, Jacob, since Michael was not home yet from teaching at Culver Community School. Her regular baby sitter was busy, so her baby sitter's grandmother offered to help out that evening.
Dimino arrived about 8 and took about a dozen snapshots of Braylin, his mom, Brittany Baich, and dad, Otis Wigfall, in their private room.
"I encouraged her to make sure and take her time with the family, not to feel rushed, but to make this another experience for the family to remember," Smith says.
The hospital chaplain first calls Dimino or another participating photographer to see whether someone is available. Then the chaplain will inform the family about the program and give them the photographer's contact information.
"This is not something I'm doing for money or publicity, and it is not a program you want to do by yourself. The more photographers we get on board the better," Dimino says. "I hope I never have to be in a situation like these families. I want to help as much as I can."
Now I lay me down to sleep, Part 1: A pregnancy's frantic turn
OTHER STORIES IN THIS SERIES: NOW I LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP
First of four parts
HEIDI PRESCOTT
Tribune Staff Writer
Brittany Baich craned her neck to see the screen as the technician spread cold gel across her swollen abdomen.
As soon as the small plastic device pressed down on her body, a black-and-white image of her healthy 37-week-old baby quickly appeared.
Brittany studied his perfect little profile in awe. She pointed to his eyes and nose as her own mom cried happy tears at the end of the bed at this first glimpse of her grandson.
Then, just as suddenly, the baby lifted one arm and then the other in front of his face, moving here and there and distorting their view.
Although her obstetrician ordered the exam that morning after she developed raised blood pressure and protein in her urine, misgivings never entered Brittany's mind. Sure, she was tired and nauseated in her first trimester late last summer, but her pregnancy had been complication-free.
"I hope it is a boy, I hope it is a boy," she kept thinking as the Memorial Hospital technician quietly collected her son's measurements.
Brittany broke the silence.
"Can you make sure this is a boy?" the 18-year-old bashfully asked. "Because I'll be really upset if it's a girl and she has to wear blue."
As the afternoon of March 8 turned to early evening, the doctors told Brittany she could go home. She was relieved to hear her blood pressure had returned to normal and things appeared fine on the ultrasound. And, yes, she would be delivering a baby boy.
Her mom drove her up Indiana 933 to Denny's, where they devoured big breakfast platters before she dropped Brittany home on the outskirts of downtown South Bend. Brittany climbed the steps to her second-floor apartment on Leland Avenue.
Feeling full and tired, Brittany couldn't resist the urge to lie down. A nap sounded perfect, because her boyfriend, 25-year-old Otis Wigfall, had not yet returned home from helping a friend build a fence in North Liberty. It was his day off work at local factory Handex.
Brittany awoke about 9 p.m. and started preparing for bed. She undressed and wrapped a towel around her big tummy before heading for the bathroom. She urinated into a plastic container, because the doctors instructed her to collect her urine for 24 hours.
That's when she felt a gush.
Startled, she looked over her pregnant stomach and saw blood streaming between her legs, spewing into the toilet.
"I was freaking out because I didn't know, Was I going into labor? But why am I not in pain? I started panicking because every time I moved an inch it seemed pints of blood would come out," she says.
She quickly pulled out her cell phone and called her father, who lived in the neighborhood. He was her backup plan in case Otis was working when she went into labor.
Brittany almost passed out, still bleeding as she hung up with her dad and frantically phoned Otis.
"I said, 'Maybe you're in labor, so calm down and just breathe,'" Otis recalls saying as he finished the fencing job, promising to start for home.
Hearing sirens, Brittany turned toward the bathroom door, "knowing if I didn't have the strength to go open the door downstairs that my son and I were going to die."
Blood dripped on the carpet as she stumbled down a steep flights of stairs and fumbled for the right key to unlock the door.
Slowly she lowered herself to the floor as her dad dashed up the sidewalk and opened the door. And as the ambulance arrived, questions raced through her head.
The EMTs placed Brittany, weak from blood loss, flat on her back on a stretcher. She put her hands on her stomach, moving them around nervously as the ambulance took off for the hospital.
Kick.
She felt her baby move for the first time since she started bleeding, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
"I figured he was going to be OK," says Brittany, who felt the baby change positions inside of her, as he had so many times in the last few months.
Meanwhile, Otis thought everything was fine with Brittany as he packed up his belongings in North Liberty. Then the 25-year-old received a call from Brittany's mom.
"She was like, 'You need to hurry up! Where are you? Where are you? Where are you?'" Otis says.
As soon as he hung up, the phone rang again. This time, it was Brittany's brother.
"He was like, 'Where the hell are you?' And that's when I knew something was really wrong," Otis says, "because he doesn't panic too much, he's pretty solid."
As he sped to the hospital, he wondered whether he would be too squeamish to cut his son's umbilical cord.
"I didn't think I was gonna be able to do it," says Otis, who feels queasy in hospitals and around blood.
As medics rushed Brittany into surgery, doctors asked a flurry of questions. "I was so confused," she says, "I didn't have any answers."
The doctors told her they were going to perform an emergency C-section. "And they put me under," she says.
After surgery, Brittany woke to see her dad, mom and two older brothers.
"Where's my baby?" Brittany asked her mom.
No response.
"Where's Otis?" she asked.
"He's coming."
"Where's my baby?" Brittany demanded.
Again, her mom was quiet.
Then without a word, her mom and brothers stood up and walked out.
Only her dad stayed.
Looking at his daughter, he gently spoke.
"I'm not going to lie to you. Your baby is going to die."
-------------------------------------------
August 07. 2006 6:59AM
Now I lay me down to sleep, Part 2: A heartbreaking decision
HEIDI PRESCOTT
Tribune Staff Writer
Second of four parts
From her hospital bed, Brittany Baich looked up at her dad. He was overreacting, she thought. Her baby boy was not going to die.
"You know how you see all the medical shows on TV and everything goes so wrong but somehow it's always OK in the end? I thought maybe things really did go bad, but maybe things weren't completely wrong," she says. "I thought with all the technology, everything would be OK."
"And," she says, "I thought I got there quick enough."
Brittany was transported to Memorial Hospital after she started bleeding, 37 weeks into her pregnancy, at home. Her boyfriend, Otis Wigfall, arrived shortly after her emergency C-section, and a nurse showed them to the Newborn Intensive Care Unit, where doctors and nurses care for premature babies and babies born with health problems.
They washed their hands in sinks inside the door and then the nurse pushed Brittany's wheelchair inside the room.
The NICU is a place where babies are attached by wires to machines that flash heartbeats and breathing patterns, where some are fed by tubes, and others receive puffs of air in their noses. Lights flash and buzzers sound above swaddled infants inside incubators and on small open beds, alerting nurses to their changing conditions.
Brittany's little boy was lying in an open bed and a light was shining down to warm his body. The nurse wheeled Brittany to his side.
"Oh my gosh," she said in a whisper.
She looked at his beautiful face and dark wavy hair, so proud. And yet it was so heartbreaking to see the tubes and wires streaming from his body to the monitors and machines.
As tears trickled down her cheeks, Brittany did her best to stand. She raised her hand to gently run a finger across his soft skin, then she stroked his hair.
"What is his name?" a nurse gently inquired.
Brittany had invested hours thumbing through books of names from the library. A few times at work telemarketing at Americall in South Bend, colleagues warned her to put the books away.
She and Otis had narrowed the field down to five, but the couple hadn't agreed on the final selection.
"Braylin," she decided, and she asked the nurse for a pen and paper. After scribbling the name a few different ways, she decided on the spelling.
A nurse wrote his name, his weight, 5 pounds, 12 ounces, and his length, 19 inches, on a light blue card with a Sesame Street sticker in the corner and taped it to the bed.
She brought them a hospital camera, and Brittany and Otis took photos. Each tube and wire affixed to his little head, face and body connected him to a different machine. He appeared to be resting peacefully in just a diaper, his fingers curled under as his hands rested on his chest.
Brittany gently picked up his left hand and wrapped his fingers around hers.
That night, she went back to her room, but she could not begin to sleep without Braylin. She leaned back in bed awake, staring at nothing in particular, worrying about her baby.
Meanwhile, Brittany's mom, Kay, went back to her daughter's apartment. "I walked in and saw the baby things, and there was blood everywhere -- I wasn't prepared for that."
On Thursday morning, Dr. Femi Okanlami entered their room and sat beside them. He immediately recognized Otis, who had gone to Marian High School with his daughter.
Braylin had shown no signs of life at birth, the doctor informed them, and it took more than five minutes of resuscitation for doctors to find a heartbeat.
"He explained I had an abruption and (Braylin) was without food and oxygen for too long," Brittany says.
Okanlami told Brittany not to blame herself; she did nothing wrong.
"I thought maybe I ate too much" at Denny's, she says.
"They also explained to me if I had not gotten to the door downstairs to unlock it, or I would have waited five minutes longer, I would've died because I was hemorrhaging."
Brittany was lucky.
But Braylin was without air for so long, he suffered significant brain damage. And that damage couldn't be reversed, so continuing life support did not offer any certainties.
He might never awaken.
He might not be able to feed himself, or walk, or talk.
"The doctor told us keeping him on the machines was just prolonging his death," Brittany says. "There was nothing else we could do."
They talked about their options in private, letting Okanlami know a little while later that they wanted to take Braylin off the ventilator.
Memorial chaplain Bridget Smith asked the couple if they wanted Braylin to be baptized. They agreed and asked her to administer the sacrament.
Brittany, Otis, their parents and a number of other relatives all gathered around Braylin's bedside, where curtains helped provide some privacy in the intensive care unit.
For the first time, Brittany held her little boy.
She felt so nervous.
"I didn't want to disconnect anything," she says. "And I didn't want to rock him or hold him wrong because I had never held a baby before."
Otis knelt beside her as they gently laid a little white gown over Braylin, and Bridget began to speak.
Today we bring this infant, Braylin, to Jesus, believing He reaches out to receive him in His arms and blesses him.
Braylin, I baptize you in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Then family members said their good-byes and departed.
Brittany and Otis stayed, lovingly cuddling, kissing and hugging Braylin.
"Part of us wanted to keep him on the machines as long as possible, but to see him like that ..." Otis says. "We didn't want to remember him like that."
A nurse started to turn each machine off and remove each tube and wire. As the final machine shut down, it made a gentle whooshing sound.
It was 1:20 p.m.
Brittany wept as she cradled Braylin in her wheelchair. Otis cried as he placed one hand on Braylin's head and the other on Brittany's shoulder.
"After they removed his lifeline, we didn't think he was going to make it two minutes," Otis says. "We thought that was it."
Then, something happened.
They heard tiny breaths.
-------------------------------------------
August 08. 2006 6:59AM
Now I lay me down to sleep, Part 3: Cherishing every moment
HEIDI PRESCOTT
Tribune Staff Writer
Third of four parts
Every breath brought hope. Brittany Baich and boyfriend Otis Wigfall wondered: If Braylin could breathe on his own, maybe he would be OK after all.
"We thought, 'Wow, they were wrong, he's going to live. He's going to live,' " Otis says.
A minute passed.
Then two. Then three.
As Braylin kept breathing, a nurse suggested they take him back to their room for privacy. Once there, Memorial Hospital chaplain Bridget Smith asked them whether they wanted to collect some keepsakes.
"Brittany said yes, whatever we had to offer she wanted because she really wanted to remember the time she had with Braylin," Bridget says.
She made handprints and footprints with the parents. A nurse helped them cut a lock of Braylin's dark brown hair, which Otis thinks would have looked like his.
Bridget showed the couple a "remembering" heart necklace. They would place the small inside heart around Braylin's neck, later, and keep the large outer heart for themselves.
And they took pictures. Lots and lots of pictures.
"I held him on my chest so he could hear my heart beat," Brittany says. "I don't think I let Otis hold him that much."
"No, not at first," Otis says. "Then she asked me if I wanted to hold him, and I said, 'Now that's a dumb question.' "
Sometimes Braylin breathed normally, and it looked and sounded as if he was asleep.
At those times, "We thought he was too strong, he couldn't die," Otis says.
Then Braylin would stop.
He would start turning blue, his body would stiffen and he would clench his tiny fists.
"He wouldn't breathe for like a minute," Brittany says, "then out of nowhere he would gasp for air. That happened so many times, and every time we thought it was the last."
Every second they held him seemed like an eternity. It was during these sacred but painful hours that Bridget told them about a photographer.
About Eileen Dimino.
"I told them there is a photographer in town who would donate her time to photograph a baby who is terminal," she says. "They were such a nice family and Braylin was so photogenic. I thought it would be important for them."
Eileen arrived with cameras and flashes in hand about 8 p.m. Thursday. "I didn't know what to expect, but I was able to treat them like a regular family."
She hung a black backdrop in their room and gently issued instructions for different poses with their son.
"Dad, move this way."
"Mom, if it's OK with baby, let's move him that way."
The mood was solemn, even more so when Braylin gasped for air. Everything and everyone would stop and look until he drew another breath.
Eileen stayed about 15 minutes. "He's so beautiful," she told the parents before she left, having taken about a dozen photos. "You're so blessed."
Otis, Brittany and her mother took turns holding Braylin overnight.
He was never set down.
Nurses came in periodically to check his vital signs. The one time they took him out of the room, only a few seconds passed before Brittany frantically hit the nurse's button on her bed. "I wanted my baby," she remembers.
Otis said they kept trying to will Braylin to wake up, so the three could go home.
He held Braylin on his lap for a while, kind of tickling his left foot, when the baby suddenly jerked his leg "as if to say, 'Leave me alone,'" Otis says.
Braylin's leg movement was something Otis would not tell Brittany about until months later. He was afraid it would give her more false hope.
The chaplain greeted the couple early Friday morning, asking what they needed. "It is a roller coaster not knowing, but it is a peaceful time, too," she says. "The family savored every moment."
She asked Brittany and Otis if they wanted to take Braylin outside. Early that afternoon, they bundled him up in a blue and yellow quilt made by volunteers and held Braylin in the courtyard in front of the hospital, watching and waiting.
"We finally got to be alone with no one telling us what to do," Otis says.
Braylin began struggling again, "so we went back to the room," Brittany says.
He breathed and stopped. Breathed and stopped.
Then everything was silent.
"I thought he was going to start breathing again," Brittany says.
But he didn't.
Two-day-old Braylin took his last breath at 1:15 p.m. Friday, cradled in the arms of his mom.
-------------------------------------------
August 09. 2006 6:59AM
Now I lay me down to sleep, Part 4: 'He's right here with me'
NOW I LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP: THOSE WHO CRADLE MICHIANA'S LITTLEST PATIENTS
HEIDI PRESCOTT
Tribune Staff Writer
Last of four parts
Before calling a nurse, Brittany Baich and Otis Wigfall cuddled close to Braylin. They would never know the sound of his voice or the color of his eyes.
"That's what I wanted him to do so bad. I wanted him to see his mommy and daddy," Brittany said.
Even though Braylin never opened his eyes to see the world and people around him, Brittany takes comfort from the fact that he lived long enough to hear their voices and to feel their touch.
He breathed on his own for a full 24 hours.
"Braylin didn't want to go to heaven yet. He wanted to spend time with his family and make some memories. When he accomplished that, he let go," she said softly.
His funeral was on the following Tuesday. The service was small.
Brittany and Otis mounted Eileen Dimino's photos of Braylin on posterboard for family to see. Dr. Femi Okanlami and members of the Newborn Intensive Care Unit nursing staff attended.
"Not only are we doctors, we are human beings, too, and feel the loss," the doctor said.
There, chaplain Bridget Smith recounted the story of David and Goliath.
The chaplain compared the armor David took off to fight the giant to the monitoring wires and oxygen lines Braylin found he could live, at least for a little while, without.
"He stayed alive for so long, even though they took all of his armor off," Otis said of the story later, with emotion. "He stayed alive and kept fighting."
At his funeral, Braylin wore an outfit of light blue, with a football patch on the front and a blue cap on his head. It was supposed to be the outfit he wore home.
Before his casket was shut, Brittany and Otis took a final few photos of their baby and said their final goodbyes.
Kneeling beside the coffin, Otis and Brittany placed inside with Braylin the black cap Otis wore those two days at the hospital and a pair of little Iverson shoes. And they gave him a small football.
He was buried at 1 p.m. at Southlawn Cemetery in South Bend, the last plot in a row of other babies and children, on a cold March morning.
Under a shelter at his grave, Bridget recited a bedtime prayer that Otis said when he was a little boy:
Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord my soul to keep
If I should die before I wake
I pray the Lord my soul to take. Amen.
***
Brittany and Otis are still together in their Leland Avenue apartment.All they have are keepsakes. A little newborn diaper. A bag of tubes that connected Braylin to monitors. His white baptismal gown. Their part of a heart necklace that they placed around him before the casket was closed. And photos -- dozens of photos.
Family snapshots are preserved in an album on Brittany's dresser. The professional photos mounted on posterboard from Braylin's funeral lean up against their living room wall, resting on a wooden diaper changing table.
"I see them every day," Brittany says of the images Dimino took of her son hours before he died the afternoon of March 10.
Someday, Brittany will show her future children what their brother, her firstborn child, looked like.
"The photos have helped me heal," she says. "I just take a look at the pictures and remember him being in my arms, breathing on his own."
When she is having a hard time falling asleep, Brittany relaxes by listening to Braylin. After he was taken off the ventilator, Otis taped their baby breathing into Brittany's cell phone.
On the surprisingly clear recording, Braylin sounds as if he is asleep and snoring, first very softly, then louder.
Brittany often holds it up to her ear, pressing it over and over again. Otis one day hopes to stream the minute-long sounds on a tape for several minutes so Brittany could simply press "play."
"But I can't listen to it," Otis says tenderly, looking downward. "It makes me cry."
Months later, a question lingers in Brittany's mind.
"I wonder why it happened and why it happened like that and I don't know why," she says.
"I don't know what the reason is, either," Otis adds. "But he's in a better place and one day I'll know what the reason is. Had Eileen not come to take the pictures, it would be so much worse, because we're still going through stuff right now."
A few times, they have watched a DVD of photos set to "Hush Little Baby" that Dimino made. Brittany's older brother, Adam, made her a second DVD to snapshots the family took, set to "If I Saw You in Heaven," by Eric Clapton.
"When I watch the slide show I feel like I'm holding Braylin again. I feel as though he's right here with me in my arms," Brittany says.
In her dreams, she sees Braylin, and he opens his eyes.
"And everything is OK," she says.
When they first came home, they saw two little boys running in the neighborhood. Brittany and Otis looked at one another and said, "Yep, that would be Braylin, running around and jumping up and down."
Every Monday is "cemetery day," when they head south in their black Lincoln Town Car to visit Braylin.
A small marker reads, "Braylin Lamar Baich, March 8, 2006 to March 10, 2006." Otis and Brittany are saving for a larger, heart-shaped headstone where they will etch Braylin's photo and the saying, "Our little warrior."
What does their future hold? Brittany and Otis are talking about marriage. Even though their families lived just a few houses apart when they were growing up in South Bend, a recent trip Brittany took with Otis' family was an important one.
Do they want to have more children?
"I do," Brittany quickly says.
Otis does not respond right away.
"For her to have to go through all this," Otis says, looking down at his son's grave. "We have to take it a day at a time. I want to have more kids, but not right now."
Staff writer Heidi Prescott: hprescott@sbtinfo.com (574) 235-6070
-------------------------------------------
August 09. 2006 6:59AM
A record of their stay on earth
Photographer works to document dying babies
NOW I LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP: THOSE WHO CRADLE MICHIANA'S LITTLEST PATIENTS
HEIDI PRESCOTT
Tribune Staff Writer
SOUTH BEND -- All Eileen Dimino has to remember her father by are memories and a few pictures.
Her father died when she was 5. She has always wished she had more photos taken with her dad.
"I see the same ones of me with him over and over again; I was the third kid, so I didn't get the same attention" photo-wise as her older siblings, she says. It is one reason she became a photographer.
Another reason is the time she spent abroad as a Saint Mary's College sophomore: She took 70 rolls of photos in less than seven months in Rome.
Dimino spent the first few years after college working at photography studios in the South Bend area and elsewhere in the state, where she learned the ins and outs of taking pictures of babies and children.
Babies cannot be rushed, while the typical youngster will follow instruction for as long as 15 minutes. And Dimino is not above using Gerber puffs and candy as bribery, she says with a chuckle.
But in October, she learned about a relatively new national program called Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep during a photographers seminar in Illinois. This is the story they heard:
A Denver photographer received a phone call in February 2005 from a man who asked her to come to the hospital to photograph his newborn baby. Starting to schedule something for the following week, the man said, "No thanks, that will be too late." His son would be removed from life support that night.
The photographer instantly cleared her schedule. She took pictures of the baby and his parents while he breathed on the respirator, then without any tubes and wires, realizing there would be no chance for retakes. The death of their baby boy was devastating, but the photos helped them heal."We were all bawling, and Michael (her husband) and I cried in the parking lot," Dimino recalls, "and we said, 'How can we not take part in this?'æ"
After Christmas, she contacted chaplain Bridget Smith at Memorial Hospital in South Bend and told her about the program. Dimino asked if she could forge a partnership, of sorts, with the hospital to be called upon to photograph a baby who is going to die.
She met with Smith, who spoke with Memorial officials about Dimino and Traditions, her relatively new photography studio in South Bend, and her intentions.
"She knows how important the photos are as keepsakes," Smith says, "for a family to have a record that their child was here, and was significant, and was loved."
Dimino received the call about Braylin Baich the afternoon of March 9.
"She asked how quickly I could come, and I said about 9 (at night)," she recalls.
Could she arrive any sooner? Smith knew Braylin could take his last breath at any moment.
"I told them I would try," Dimino says, knowing she had to find a baby sitter for her son, Jacob, since Michael was not home yet from teaching at Culver Community School. Her regular baby sitter was busy, so her baby sitter's grandmother offered to help out that evening.
Dimino arrived about 8 and took about a dozen snapshots of Braylin, his mom, Brittany Baich, and dad, Otis Wigfall, in their private room.
"I encouraged her to make sure and take her time with the family, not to feel rushed, but to make this another experience for the family to remember," Smith says.
The hospital chaplain first calls Dimino or another participating photographer to see whether someone is available. Then the chaplain will inform the family about the program and give them the photographer's contact information.
"This is not something I'm doing for money or publicity, and it is not a program you want to do by yourself. The more photographers we get on board the better," Dimino says. "I hope I never have to be in a situation like these families. I want to help as much as I can."
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
I'm not much for online petitions...but...
Please consider signing this one titled, "Public awareness, education and sensitivity of Remembrance Photography," started by NILMDTS Photography.
In February of 2005, my husband and I experienced the death our son Maddux during the first week of his life. During that week, we saw the amazing portraits of parents with their newborns that lined the hospital walls. My husband called the photographer to request she come to the hospital to take pictures of our precious son. The images taken that night have been an immense comfort not only to us but to our older children as well and have helped us deal with the grief of losing a child and a baby brother. Within months, photographer Sandy Puc’ and I founded Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep (NILMDTS) a non-profit organization that exists to assist other families suffering an early infant loss. (www.nowilaymedowntosleep.org)
On June 12, 2006, I received an email from a mother who also has suffered an early infant loss. Kara was upset by a recent dialogue on RadioAlice 97.3, a CBS Radio station in San Francisco. In an attempt at humor, the announcer went too far and was insensitive to parents who have suffered the loss of a baby. Their topic regarded stillborn babies and parents who memorialize their babies with photographs. The language and concepts that were discussed were horrific to families who have lost beloved babies.
We at NILMDTS are deeply saddened by this incident but are grateful for the apology issued by RadioAlice 97.3: “On Tuesday June 6th, the Alice morning show reported a story about parents who have photographs of their stillborn babies taken to remember them by. The subject matter was inappropriately taken lightly, and we wish to issue a public apology. The show is known for walking the edge in terms of content and style, and often mocks things that others take seriously. In this particular case, we were insensitive to the feelings of parents who suffer through the loss of a baby in their early days. We sincerely apologize.”
Too many people in our society do not realize the grief and sorrow experienced when a little one is lost. Parents don’t want to forget their child’s beautiful face, tiny hands and perfect feet. Photography is a tool to assist them through the days of loss, and those images serve as a memorial to their children.
Sign here.
In February of 2005, my husband and I experienced the death our son Maddux during the first week of his life. During that week, we saw the amazing portraits of parents with their newborns that lined the hospital walls. My husband called the photographer to request she come to the hospital to take pictures of our precious son. The images taken that night have been an immense comfort not only to us but to our older children as well and have helped us deal with the grief of losing a child and a baby brother. Within months, photographer Sandy Puc’ and I founded Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep (NILMDTS) a non-profit organization that exists to assist other families suffering an early infant loss. (www.nowilaymedowntosleep.org)
On June 12, 2006, I received an email from a mother who also has suffered an early infant loss. Kara was upset by a recent dialogue on RadioAlice 97.3, a CBS Radio station in San Francisco. In an attempt at humor, the announcer went too far and was insensitive to parents who have suffered the loss of a baby. Their topic regarded stillborn babies and parents who memorialize their babies with photographs. The language and concepts that were discussed were horrific to families who have lost beloved babies.
We at NILMDTS are deeply saddened by this incident but are grateful for the apology issued by RadioAlice 97.3: “On Tuesday June 6th, the Alice morning show reported a story about parents who have photographs of their stillborn babies taken to remember them by. The subject matter was inappropriately taken lightly, and we wish to issue a public apology. The show is known for walking the edge in terms of content and style, and often mocks things that others take seriously. In this particular case, we were insensitive to the feelings of parents who suffer through the loss of a baby in their early days. We sincerely apologize.”
Too many people in our society do not realize the grief and sorrow experienced when a little one is lost. Parents don’t want to forget their child’s beautiful face, tiny hands and perfect feet. Photography is a tool to assist them through the days of loss, and those images serve as a memorial to their children.
Sign here.
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