Her name was Alicia. She died on the same day she was born, July 13, 1979 in a little town in the Midwest. I was never allowed to hold her or see her or make even a short memory with her. That is how things were done then. No contact. "She won't want to remember this" they said, but I do remember. I remember the ugly tile floor in that cold sterile hospital room. I remember the blinds on the window were broken. I will never forget the ugly sink and shower or how there was a hole in the standard hospital blanket on my bed. I do remember empty arms. I remember cold. I remember sterile. I don't get to remember my baby girl. I don't get to remember her tiny face, or the curl of her fingers or the smell of her hair.
Things have improved so much since then. We help the families to be together as much as we can. We take pictures and encourage holding and treasured moments but we can still do better. We can create the home these babies will never get to see. We can let parents hold their dying child in bed with them or bring siblings in to read stories surrounded by soft drapes and stuffed animals. We can hide hospital equipment and put in a small refrigerator so no parent has to leave unless they want to.
All of this and more can be created so every family has the most beautiful memories possible to hold in their heart of the very short time they hold this precious child in their arms. That is the mission of Alicia's Angels Inc. Please consider a donation to help create memories for these families.