What is your favorite word? That was the icebreaker question put to a group of professionals at a recent business meeting I attended. Like most of you, I’ve been at hundreds of meetings where I have been a willing or not-so-willing participant in icebreaker activities — some more complicated and ridiculous than others. That’s why when I heard the icebreaker challenge that day, I thought, “Oh, that’s easy.” My word had come to me in an instant.
“Mommy,” I said when it was finally my turn. “Mommy is my favorite word.” Though we had heard some interesting, thought-provoking, and even colorful favorite words, it was clear there was some icebreaker envy going on when I announced my word. A new friend to my immediate right said, “Why didn’t I think of that?” I heard a few “ahhhs” around the circle. A pregnant woman grew teary. You must admit, it’s a great word.
I first fell in love with this word as my new daughter walked toward my husband and me in the dark hallway of a Russian orphanage in April 2003. Little 2-year-old arms outstretched, she looked straight at me and said the only English word she’d been taught, “Mommy.”
From that day on, I’ve never taken for granted the miracle that brought Olivia to us, or the importance of the love and care children receive not only after they are born, but also before they are born. Olivia was born very prematurely, and we were cautioned about the potential health implications of early birth, including respiratory problems due to underdeveloped lungs. I studied the various causes of preterm labor, from physiologic complications to the lifestyle factors that may put women at greater risk — things including late or no prenatal care, alcohol or drug abuse, smoking and high levels of stress, among others. I wondered whether Olivia’s birthmother had access to the support, education, and medical care that I would have had if I had been the one carrying such precious cargo into the world. Did she know how important her work was?
In this issue, we report on the innovative work of nurses to combat preterm labor in the United States. A recently released study by the National Center for Health Statistics puts the U.S. infant mortality rate at one of the highest among developed countries, largely because of premature births. According to March of Dimes, one in eight babies is born before 37 weeks in the U.S. It is not surprising that nurses are stepping up to develop models of care to address this serious issue. These nurses are working to help mothers give their babies the best chance at a healthy start.
As for my baby, she’s now a happy, healthy 8-year-old. Though we did have a few scary albuterol-filled nights, we are blessed with no sign of lasting effects of her early arrival into the world. The little girl who once struggled to breathe now runs and jumps and dances and sings at the top of her lungs, just like other third-graders. I wish everyone could experience the joy I feel when I watch her play effortlessly, or hear her giggles of delight — or when she says my favorite word.
“Mommy,” I said when it was finally my turn. “Mommy is my favorite word.” Though we had heard some interesting, thought-provoking, and even colorful favorite words, it was clear there was some icebreaker envy going on when I announced my word. A new friend to my immediate right said, “Why didn’t I think of that?” I heard a few “ahhhs” around the circle. A pregnant woman grew teary. You must admit, it’s a great word.
I first fell in love with this word as my new daughter walked toward my husband and me in the dark hallway of a Russian orphanage in April 2003. Little 2-year-old arms outstretched, she looked straight at me and said the only English word she’d been taught, “Mommy.”
From that day on, I’ve never taken for granted the miracle that brought Olivia to us, or the importance of the love and care children receive not only after they are born, but also before they are born. Olivia was born very prematurely, and we were cautioned about the potential health implications of early birth, including respiratory problems due to underdeveloped lungs. I studied the various causes of preterm labor, from physiologic complications to the lifestyle factors that may put women at greater risk — things including late or no prenatal care, alcohol or drug abuse, smoking and high levels of stress, among others. I wondered whether Olivia’s birthmother had access to the support, education, and medical care that I would have had if I had been the one carrying such precious cargo into the world. Did she know how important her work was?
In this issue, we report on the innovative work of nurses to combat preterm labor in the United States. A recently released study by the National Center for Health Statistics puts the U.S. infant mortality rate at one of the highest among developed countries, largely because of premature births. According to March of Dimes, one in eight babies is born before 37 weeks in the U.S. It is not surprising that nurses are stepping up to develop models of care to address this serious issue. These nurses are working to help mothers give their babies the best chance at a healthy start.
As for my baby, she’s now a happy, healthy 8-year-old. Though we did have a few scary albuterol-filled nights, we are blessed with no sign of lasting effects of her early arrival into the world. The little girl who once struggled to breathe now runs and jumps and dances and sings at the top of her lungs, just like other third-graders. I wish everyone could experience the joy I feel when I watch her play effortlessly, or hear her giggles of delight — or when she says my favorite word.
