Our baby girl brought a beautiful new addition to our family 4 years ago. So many new things were added to our lives –love, joy, and gratitude. Other new things came into our lives – cribs, toys, diapers, etc. As Emma grew and changed she outgrew booties, bibs, strollers, and clothes. And, like all babies, she outgrew nursing.
This left me with a freezer full of milk and a heart full of emotions. It takes a lot of effort to pump this extra milk that is a part of me meant to be a part of her. There had to be something I could do with the extra milk. I didn’t want it wasted. I knew that people can donate blood to help others who are injured. Could I donate this milk to a baby who needed it?
I searched the Internet for a few hours and came back with nothing. Sadly I threw a freezer full of breast milk away. Wishing for a solution. Wishing for something better.
Two years later I was blessed with another healthy pregnancy and a baby boy. I knew this time that there had to be a better way to do this. I could not throw away all that milk again.
In October of 2006, I watched an Oprah feature on the International Breast Milk Project (IBMP). Jill Youse spoke about breast milk sent to
I signed up on-line and sent my application in to become a donor. The people on the site were so professional. They kept me up-to-date every step of the way. The organization provided shipping costs for the milk. They also can send a hospital grade pump and storage bags for those who need them. I arranged for postal pick-ups of milk shipments from home. IBMP’s attention to detail was impressive. Their screening process ensured only healthy milk found its way overseas.
I became even more involved by becoming a chapter president and began coordinating fundraisers. My life changed. I now lived my beliefs. I even got to meet a man from
I struggle to fit everything into my busy schedule: my kids, my husband, my friends, and household tasks. Life runs full speed ahead. I won’t pretend that I don’t wonder sometimes, “Can I keep up?”
But then I see firsthand the impact on my children. My little girl prays at night, “Thank you for Mommy, Daddy, Brother, cheeseburgers, and the little boys and girls in