TINY MIRACLES-Premature Babies Attest to the Dignity of Life

Hi all, I could not resist sharing this article from the NCR, June 9, with you.

He weighed less than 10 ounces when he was delivered by emergency cesarean at 24 weeks and five days. /when he was released from a Japanese hospital six months after his birth, he had grown to more than 7 pounds. According to a registry maintained by the University of Iowa, this micropreemie holds the record for the smallest newborn boy to be discharged from a hospital in good health.

Now anotoher baby has been recognized by the registry. “The smallest surviving baby in the world was released this month from a San Diago hospital after being born at just 8.6.” Fox 5 San Diego reported May 29.  Saybie, born at 23 weeks and three days in December, weighed 5.6 pounds when released from the neonatal intensive care unit.

These tiny babies reflect a study published in THE NEW ENGLAND JOURNAL OF MEDICINE that found that there are premature babies surviving outside the womb earlier than doctors once thought possible.

“Now, 90% of babies born at 28 weeks will survive.” Dr. William Stigall, a Catholic pediatric intensive at Cook Children’s Medical Center in Forth Worth, Texas, to the Register. “Now 23-24 weeks is the age of viability, meaning 50% of those babies will survive.”

Linda Raleigh’s youngest two children (no. 6&7) were born prematurely, one four weeks early and the other five.  Both premature babies spent weeks in the NICU, but now that they are 15 and 11 years old, it’s clear that being born early did not negatively impact them in mind or body.   “It really made me trust God a lot,” she added.  “He wants these little people born. They’re willed into existence by God.”

Giving a preemie required treatment is not always simple-or inexpensive. That’s where the line of viability can come into play, with some health care providers declining to treat infants born at an earlier stage. That NEW ENGLAND JOURNAL OF MEDICINE STUDY, for instance, found that hospitals vary widely in their approach to 22 week-olds: A few offered no active medical treatment, and at the other end of the spectrum, a handful offered assertive treatments.  Stigall explains that there are differences between ordinary and extraordinary interventions–something one must do and something one can do.  —-What doesn’t change is the infinite worth of that person.” he said. “The primary concern is the patient.

For Jessica Spradlin, that seemed obvious when she went into preterm labor and her son Kailor Dean was born at 22 weeks and four days, at the local hospital-closer than the facility where her specialist worked,  But the local hospital’s policy was to provide care for babies born at 23 weeks – and Kailor was a few days younger than that. So he received no medical assistance, and he died 51 minutes after being born.

“This is a baby that was prayed for, wanted and loved from the beginning.” recalled Spradlin. “They could have tried and failed, but at least they would have know every effort was made.”

Now Spradlin is focused on raising awareness of the fact that hospitals can have different policies for providing care to preemies – a fact that could literally make the difference between life and death. Even with assertive treatment and care, not every prematurely born baby will survive, but the miracle of life is clear, no mater how short its span.

She was just 21 years old when she gave birth to her fist son, Joshua, at 33 weeks and five days. —-now 16 years old, that prematurely born baby is a driving, piano playing, potential future law student. “  “I think the argument that it’s just a ‘clump of cells’ should be unraveling,” his mother said. 

by: Elisabeth Deffner

There you have it, the value of an unborn child, created by God, is unlimited. I know when a woman become unexpectedly pregnant, it can be frightening. The question, “What am I going to do now?” is definitely a problem. However, there are free clinics that will help her through the 9 months and beyond. If you know someone or if it happens to you, please call Catholic Charities or look in the phone book or call the birthing section of a hospital. Someone will know where there is a clinic and help, even a home for unwed mothers if you need that help, don’t go to Planned Parenthood or another abortion provider. Abortion is not the answer. If you can’t care for your child, someone else can and you can get back to your life.  Please act Responsibly.

 

 

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CONNIE’S MEMORIES-MEMORIAL DAY

Hello folks, it’s been quite awhile since I blogged, although I have thought of a lot of articles. So perhaps I will do better this summer.

Memorial Day is one of my many Family Holidays that I remember as great family fun. My folks probably didn’t plan it that way, it was a day to honor our dead relatives, not just service members but everyone. I believe, what my siblings and I enjoyed was a tradition that had been going on since my mother’s father and grandfather died, which would have been around 1918.  My mother’s father died of the flue at the time of a flue epidemic that killed around 50,000  around the globe. Remember, no medicine to fight it at that time. My mother was 4 or 5 yrs. old at that time.  A few months later her grandfather died of mouth cancer from smoking a pipe or cigar. They were the first graves in our family plot at the Catholic Cemetery in our town.  My father’s family also had a family plot, because years before his father had died in his 60’s, his aunt had died when he was growing up, 2 sisters had died of TB, and one had died at birth. Also, my cousin’s father and sister were buried there.  If I remember correctly, that was the way the cemetery situation was when I first remember memorial day.

My earliest memories were of my younger brother, myself and my parents. Other siblings were added later. About 9:00am we would be finished breakfast and the kitchen cleaned up, when my grandmother, great grandmother, one maybe both of my mother’s two sisters  would arrive and sometime my older cousin, when she was on leave from the Waves. (Women in the Navy). The family members changed as some died and the men came home from the war but the tradition continued on even after I left home, if I made it back for Memorial day, the tradition was about the same.

This was my mother’s side of the family, my father’s side had their own tradition. There would be the arranging of flowers, our lilacs and if some were alive, some tulips were added.  The we all went up to the cemetery to put the flowers on the graves, both at my mother’s family and my father’s.  Then we all stood there and said prayers for our dead relatives.

You will note that I never had grandfathers when I was growing up, they had all passed away before my parents got married.

Once we got home, my mother made sandwiches and we went to the park in town for a picnic. (I don’t remember it ever raining but if so, we would have picnicked at home). Then we walked from the park, about a mile to my grandmother’s home which was near the Post Office and the Town War Memorial. During the afternoon, there was a band concert and speeches at the Memorial. My memories go back to when I was around five or so, which was around 1943-45 during WWII. After the ceremonies, we went back to my grandmother’s house and visited. I remember all of us being out side or on her big closed in porch. Her house was big and interesting with places to explore.  My grandmother’s brother lived on the third floor, and they were always there also. I know it doesn’t sound very exciting, but our relatives were very loving, and my brother and I were the first grandchildren, so for awhile we were the main attraction and since during the week everyone was busy, this was great family time.

When I was in high school and  in the band I was marching in parades, so wasn’t home for the cemetery visits, but always managed to make it to my grandmother’s house. Things changed thru the years as the older people died, but my parents kept up the Memorial Day tradition and cemetery visits until they couldn’t do it anymore, then my aunt and I took over, and then my husband and I. Last year, one of my younger brothers also started putting flowers on the graves, which is great, since I know the tradition will continue a little longer.  We also used to get to go back to the cemetery to tend the flowers and pick them up when they died. We got to explore the other graves at that time and find some more relatives. You probably get that I loved and love family history.

There are a lot of graves there now, sadly, all the people that used to make our Memorial Day fun, have passed away. So by going to the cemetery and putting the flowers on the graves, saying the prayers for their souls, and saying thank you for wonderful memories and a wonderful life, we are honoring them. I don’t believe the town has a memorial service like they used to, but they still lay flowers at the War Memorial which has now grown to honor service people from several wars.

Now, here is what I was thinking about on Memorial Day this year. How did my relatives ever get to my house with all those flowers?  They lived a mile away. and how did we all get to the cemetery which was a couple of miles up the road on top of a hill? No one had cars, and gas was rationed until after the war?  My uncle did have a car, he was a sales man,  so maybe they used his.  After the war, my aunt and uncles had cars, but not in the beginning. My folks didn’t buy a car until they had the money(no loans for them) and I was then in High School. So I guess it had to be my uncle’s car, and the rest of us must have walked to the cemetery and we definitely walked to the park, another mile or so from my house.

I guess I will never have the answer to that question, but my memories of Memorial Day are lots of fun to think about. The most important thing was family, family time and the fact that my family did not forget those relatives that gone before.

I hope you had a blessed Memorial Day, and if you couldn’t visit your family’s graves, I do hope you stopped to think about your family members, ancestors, and said a prayer or two for them.  My folks used to remind us that friends come and go, but you always have your family, good or bad, so make peace with them, and pray for them.