This time 27 years ago, I was entering the third trimester of an unplanned pregnancy. My husband, Randy, and I had considered our family complete with two terrific children, Matthew and Katie. God, however, placed a cherry on top of our “fab four” with a big surprise: Jeffrey. Once we…
We're Not in Kansas Anymore - a Column by Helen Baldwin
Although I rarely have a chance to read the work of fellow columnists here at Bionews, the parent company of this website, it’s evident that I’m in the midst of some stellar writers. Halsey Blocher, who is the columns lead for my group of writers, and Kevin…
My husband, Randy, and I sat across from the pediatric neurologist, eagerly anticipating his opinion of what was affecting our 8-week-old baby, Jeffrey. I say eagerly because I’m an optimist, and I’d taught kindergarteners at a self-contained school for children with multiple disabling conditions. I felt confident that we’d…
At a routine dental cleaning over a year ago, the dentist informed me that a molar with an old root canal would need to be removed at some point. To prolong the tooth’s stay in my mouth, she applied a special gel then and at subsequent cleanings. All was fine…
The first surprise our third baby, Jeffrey, delivered was his mere appearance. In 1997, my husband, Randy, and I juggled two school-age children and their respective activities, his new job, and a bustling family lodge. A baby was nowhere on the to-do list. Surprise No. 2 was Jeffrey’s arrival two…
My days growing up in Fort Worth, Texas, are chock-full of fond memories, like waiting in line at Mrs. Baird’s Bakery to talk to Santa. He was the real deal, not some measly helper. The heavenly aroma of bread baking was proof that Mrs. Claus was bustling in the…
Because my husband, Randy, and I had neither furniture nor money when we got married, we lived in furnished apartments for the first couple of years. We purchased the furniture in one of our last apartments for a ridiculously low price. When we bought our first house, my parents…
I don’t know what it is about the end of daylight saving time that rustles my brain when the sun goes down. Maybe it’s because we think of secretive things emerging at night, and now it gets dark at 5:30. As time backed up this month, my “barn doors…
The insidious nature of SMA type 1 that was affecting our baby Jeffrey intensified in October 1997. While relatively calm moments occasionally appeared after a disastrous pulmonary consultation earlier in the month, Jeffrey began experiencing respiratory distress to the point of needing morphine. My frazzled mind filled with…
My late mother, an accomplished pianist named JoAnn Derden, used to perform double-piano concerts with her sister, who insisted that the music — intricate, demanding classics — be memorized. Mom begrudgingly obliged. When those stressful days ended, Mom enjoyed improvising and playing two-piano music with me — no memorization…
