Founder’s Note
There are defining moments in each of our lives—moments of joy, moments of sorrow, and moments that reshape us in ways we could never anticipate. My defining moment came on a hot summer day in 2000 when I gave birth to my son, Jackson, at just 24 weeks gestation. He weighed one pound, eight ounces.
Those early months in the NICU, followed by years of therapies, doctor visits, and uncertainty, forever changed the trajectory of my life. Two and a half years later, our daughter Lauren arrived six weeks early and faced complications of her own. Though her NICU stay was brief, the fear, grief, and loneliness felt achingly familiar.
Despite being surrounded by friends and family, I longed for someone who truly understood—a hand to hold through the fear, trauma, and unknowns of life in and after the NICU. That longing planted the seed that eventually grew into Hand to Hold.
But the road between the seed of an idea and the organization you see today required time, healing, and faith. Five years after Jackson’s birth, I finally sought help for what I later learned was PTSD and acute anxiety. Through therapy and prayer, I came to understand that part of my healing would come from finding purpose in our story and helping others navigate their own.
Hand to Hold began with a big idea, a business card, and a determination to change the healthcare system so NICU parents could access the emotional and mental health support they desperately needed.
It meant educating hospital leaders, advocating for early mental health intervention, and raising the funds needed to build a sustainable nonprofit—often during challenging seasons such as economic downturns and even a global pandemic.
This organization has always been like a “third child” to me, and I affectionately named her Hope. Hope is what carried me, and hope is what I wanted NICU and bereaved families to feel.
Over the years, I witnessed something extraordinary. When you move forward in faith, God surrounds you with community. Supporters, volunteers, hospital partners, fellow NICU parents, and dedicated professionals have all passionately championed the mission. Together, they helped transform a simple idea into a nationwide movement that now supports thousands of families each year.
After almost two decades of leading and caring for Hope, I felt it was time for Hope to continue to grow under new leadership. My hope for Hand to Hold is that it continues to be a beacon for families who feel lost, afraid, or unseen. May every parent who walks through the NICU doors find compassionate support, trusted guidance, and hope even in their darkest moments.