October 7 - Dear Nicolas Sparks (Guest Blogger J.C. Kuehn Miller)

Dear Mr. Sparks,

The weather is changing. Summer is over and autumn is upon us. I woke up this morning and stepped out onto my front porch. Even with my lovely, fluffy robe wrapped around me, the chill of the dawn air nipped at my skin.

I personally love the fall with its beautiful colors, state fair, bonfires, and warm potato soup. Our sweaters are able to escape their storage bins. The anticipation of Christmas leaves the children on the edge of their collective seat. Jack Frost is waking from his long slumber.

Though all these images make the average person ripe with excitement, there is another side to this story.

Fall also kicks off the flu season. Runny noses, deep chest coughs, fevers, and body aches are a part of our life. However, these aggravations are far more dangerous to tiny babies whose respiratory systems are already compromised. When the diaphragm fails to fully form, this allows the bowels to move into the chest cavity where the lungs should be.

This can be a difficult time to newborns, teenagers, and adults alike. It leaves many vulnerable and estranges families from being able to see the precious young cherub out of fear of spreading some sickness to the child.

Imagine giving birth to your child and immediately handing the baby over to the doctors and not being able to hold it for weeks or months. Try explaining to your parents that they cannot visit their grandchild. 

It even extends to the cherub’s schooling. Preschools are notoriously infested with germs and sickness. Because of their weakened state, the cherub may miss this valuable time before they enter elementary school.

All this just goes to show that something that we enjoy and take for granted can be a very serious matter for a CDH family.

So, enjoy the hot coco, put on some comfy slippers, and ALWAYS ask the parents of the Cherub before dropping by the hospital.

Sincerely,

Jason C. K. Miller

August 7 - Dear Nicholas Sparks

Dear Mr. Sparks,

I'd like to share some photos with you.  

This is Jason, our office manager, outside sanding and staining wood for trophies awarded to volunteers, researchers and fundraisers. 

This is a way that we cut costs here to stretch our budget to help the 5500 families that we support on less than $200,000 a year. 

Jason is a jack-of-all-trades... a writer, database engineer, artists, box carrier, postal worker, errand runner and more.  

We are really blessed to have him on board.


Sincerely,

Dawn M. Torrence Williamson

CHERUBS President

January 23 - Dear Nicholas Sparks (Guest Blogger J. C. Kuehn Miller)

Dear Nicolas Sparks,

Mind if I call you Sparky? Didn’t think so. We’ll stick with Nicolas.

My name is Kuehn Miller. I am a glorified box carrier at the CHERUBS headquarters in Wake Forest, NC. I carry A LOT of boxes. But this is a good thing.

Why is it a good thing? It means that there is a family out there still clinging to hope. Hope is a rarity for CDH families. The boxes (called totebags) contain gifts for expecting parents or for parents with babies still in the hospital. The totebags have hand sanitizers, dry erase boards, disposable cameras, a handprint making kit and many more helpful items.

Most of the items in the totebags are donated by friends and family of CDH babies. On the blankets, the teddy bears, the hand lotions are stickers that either say “In loving memory of…” or “In honor of…”

I’m a twenty-something bearded man. I like bon fires, bacon, and Braveheart. I suppress my emotions (much to the chagrin of my therapist).

However, when packing a totebag, I handle the precious little boots and cute onesies. Looking at them, there is a strange sensation in my chest. The same kind of sensation I experienced when Mandy Moore (Jamie Sullivan) sang “Only Hope” in the movie version of your book “A Walk to Remember.”

(Side note, how on earth did Jamie and Landon get all the way up to the VA/NC state border from Beaufort in such a short span of time? Just a question that has bothered me for about a decade.)

Sorry, back to the issue of hope.

Littering the walls around my desk are portraits of kids wearing the CHERUBS wings. Right above my computer monitor is a picture of a young mother sitting at a miniature tea-party. Across from her is an empty chair with a set of wings attached.

The majority of these posters reiterate time and time again the 50% mortality rate of CDH children.

If you were told that when you went to bed tonight, there is a 50/50 chance of you not waking in the morning, would you sleep?

Mothers and fathers around the world go to bed at night praying, hoping that their precious child will still be there in the morning. Maybe the child leaves us suddenly; maybe the child is in agony for hours as their lungs stop working; maybe everything will be fine.

This is a broken world. Broken dreams are part of humanity.

Even one, ONE mention of congenital diaphragmatic hernia in an upcoming book would work wonders for CDH awareness. We need help. Will you help us, Mr. Sparks?

Best, 

J. C. Kuehn Miller