11/17/2025
Today is World Prematurity Day and I’m reminded that hope doesn’t usually arrive with a big announcement. It starts small, the size of a hand that barely wraps around your finger, or a quiet milestone you celebrate in a room full of monitors. It shows up in ounces gained, tubes removed, and in the steady patience that only NICU parents truly understand.
Back then, hope felt fragile. Now it runs through my house laughing, asking for snacks, and trying to wrestle with each other. Matthew and Liam don’t remember those early days, but we do, and it makes every smile, every hug, and every messy moment feel like a gift we almost couldn’t imagine at the time.
Today we’re celebrating how far they’ve come and sending love to every family still in the NICU chapter. At our office, we meet a lot of people who carry quiet battles of their own, and days like this remind me how much strength can grow from the smallest beginnings. Hope grows, slowly at first, then all at once. And one day, you look up and it’s standing right in front of you.