Marching On

The March of Dimes has done away with WalkAmerica!!!!


Well, that was a bit dramatic. They actually just changed the name. It is now March for Babies.

I love the new name. I think it's very To-The-Point and goes well with March of Dimes.

I always wondered why the March of Dimes got to have the "WalkAmerica" when there are so many other walks IN America. I found out that it was because the March of Dimes pretty much invented the Charity Walk. That makes a lot more sense, then. This move was smart for them, but it helps me out, too. Now I won’t have to explain what the walk is for all the time. (That got just a little bit old.)




April 27th, Team Bella will be “marching” for their third year. So far in our walks, we’ve raised over $1,200 that went to help save babies. This year, I’m setting our goal a little bit higher. I’m going to muster up a little bit of courage and be just a little more outgoing when asking for donations. This year, I’m not going to wait until the day before “bank day” to put the change jar in the office kitchen just because a little red tape is in my way. I’m also going to talk about it a LOT more. Because it is something I feel very strongly about.

There are a lot of choices that we will make for our children. Unfortunately, we really don’t get to choose the way they are born. I am proof that a perfectly normal pregnancy can last almost to the end…but can’t guarantee a healthy baby. I don’t want more women to go through what I have. I believe in this charity and I hold their hope that one day ALL babies will be given the opportunity to start life healthy.

So it’s time again to ask that if you can spare a dollar, would you consider donating it to my cause? If you can spare a day, would you consider joining the walk in your own area? If you can just spare a minute or so, will you tell someone about the cause?

Contributions of all kinds help out in big ways.

October 15th

In honor of Pregnancy and Infant Loss Day, I wanted to share this poem I just got from Robyn Bear, founder of October15th.com.

Comments are off for now.

Tonight we light a candle for Isabella Grace.

And for all the other babies who left the world too soon.

"A Pair of Shoes"

I am wearing a pair of shoes.
They are ugly shoes.
Uncomfortable shoes.
I hate my shoes.
Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair.
Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I do not think I can take another step.
Yet, I continue to wear them.
I get funny looks wearing these shoes.
They are looks of sympathy.
I can tell in others eyes that they are glad they are my shoes and not theirs.
They never talk about my shoes.
To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable.
To truly understand these shoes you must walk in them.
But, once you put them on, you can never take them off.
I now realize that I am not the only one who wears these shoes.
There are many pairs in this world.
Some woman are like me and ache daily as they try and walk in them.
Some have learned how to walk in them so they don't hurt quite as much.
Some have worn the shoes so long that days will go by before they think about how much they hurt.
No woman deserves to wear these shoes.
Yet, because of these shoes I am a stronger woman.
These shoes have given me the strength to face anything.
They have made me who I am.
I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.

~Author unknown

2

Two years ago today was the worst day of my life.

Two years ago today my life was turned upside down.

Two years ago today we learned that Isabella would not be born alive.

Today is not an easy day. Especially to be at work. I’ve always blamed this place a little for losing her. It’s really hard to be here today. And I’ve only been in for twenty minutes.

I will look forward to Saturday and hopefully that will get me through. Saturday is a bittersweet day for me. As sorrowful as that day was two years ago, it was also a very proud day for me. I was proud of my family for sticking by me through it all – waiting all day for me to give birth when they knew what tears would follow. I was proud of The Man for how strong he was through everything and the strength he gave me. I was proud of myself for making it through what I thought would be impossible. But most of all, I was proud of the life we created. No matter how short it was – it was perfect. Perfect in the way that all she ever felt was love and adoration.

That day I finally got to meet the little girl who had spent nine months kicking my organs and flipping around inside me. I finally got to see her beautiful face – and it looked exactly how I had imagined it would. Exactly.

So I will, today, suffer through the hurt and pain of the memories of two years ago. Because I know that Saturday will be spent remembering a beautiful child who lived a beautiful life. Remembering how much everyone loves her. Remembering how everyone came to welcome her to the world and hand her over to God. Remembering that she is NOT a painful memory – but my beautiful baby who I will one day hold in my arms again.

Just Keep Going

Some of you may have noticed my new sidebar object (there’s one at the bottom, too!).

Yep, I am walking again this year. We raised $685 total last year, between us and my aunt in Huntsville. My goal is set at the same as last year. I’m horrible at asking for money – for me, or for charity. My family is very giving and very supportive, but I don’t expect the same response as last year. I don’t have money to pass out all the time, which is why I choose to walk. (I DO donate to the MOD throughout the year, but they get it all.) It’s the same reason I chose to ring for the Salvation Army. I don’t expect everyone to be able to just drop $20 in the bank of every charity that asks. But I do believe it’s important to give something (money, time, whatever) to a cause that you hold dear.

So, if you are able to spare a few dollars, I would greatly appreciate you sponsoring me. Or if you would like to sign up to walk yourself, check out their website.


It was really a great experience for me last year. Even though it rained the entire time. It was also healing for me. Seeing how many people were affected by premature birth, just in my area, was a shock. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel alone.

After I gave birth to Bella, The Man stayed home for a few days, but eventually had to go back to work. I still had seven weeks left before my leave time was up. So there I sat - aching, tired, alone. For seven weeks.

My mom tried to get extra days off, and my sister-in-law spent a day with me, too. We also moved into our new house during that time, so I was able to fill some time in the end getting things settled up there. But for the most part, I was just alone.

I don’t remember what I looked like back then, I really didn't care. I had few clothing items that fit and my face was so red and swollen, I though it would never go down. I had to force myself to shower. I would run into people that I knew and I probably scared them. Of course, they all congratulated me on the baby. I had to be on-guard at all times because I never knew when someone was going to pop up and make me explain to them that she wasn’t there. I was trying so hard to get back to normal – normal being getting through the day without crying – but everywhere I went, there was someone bringing me back to my reality.

Coming back to work was even worse. People close to me knew. Some of them wanted to know details, some of them wanted to pretend things were normal. A lot of people were yet to be told. A year after it all, I still had people asking “So, your baby must be about a year now, huh?” It never gets easier trying to find the words to explain it.

I went from being alone to being constantly surrounded by people. Surprisingly, I had never felt more isolated. At least at home, I was able to curl up with her blanket. I had the freedom to cry when it hurt and feel okay once in a while without worrying what other people would think. “Can you believe she’s smiling?” I would imagine them saying. I would hide in my cubicle and cry. Seeing people meant explaining what happened all over again. Every day.

I tried so hard to hide myself from everyone. I quit talking to a lot of people. I lost the bubbliness that had made me so likeable before my heartbreak. I did everything I could to keep to myself. It was hard for me to even go to doctor’s appointments, or go to the store. Social engagements were out of the question.

In March of 2006, I decided that 6 months of reclusion and obesity were enough and started taking steps to fix myself.

Our daycare was an avid supporter of the March of Dimes, a charity that, up until then, I had not even known what their actual cause was. One day, dropping the kids off, I took notice and realized how tied to them I already was. I signed up for the walk and started letting my family know about it. They all supported me and told me how proud they were.

Facing that large group of people was going to be a big challenge for me. Yet, surprisingly, nobody offered to walk with me. Not my mom, not The Man. I guess they thought I wanted to do it alone – which couldn’t have been further from the truth.

I made The Man come with me, and it was still a challenge. I walked five wet miles and kept telling myself, “Just keep going.” When we finished that day, I knew that I had it in me to do things that scared me, to finish what I started. I knew I was going to be okay.