NICU

Acknowledging what has happened is such a significant part of processing trauma. What OAW provides is a tangible way to acknowledge both the loss and the love. Giving families something real to hold onto—especially when everything else feels shattered—is something that cannot be replaced.

Being given the side-eye by Rachel was worn as a badge of honor in the NICU. Even nurses filling shifts from other areas had already heard about her. She seldom cried—even in the worst circumstances. Her smile could melt anyone’s heart. She loved being the center of attention, but only at her discretion. She will…

As the weeks went on, more symptoms began to appear. Serenity started having seizures that stopped her breathing every few minutes. That’s when I knew she was suffering, and we were faced with the hardest decision we’ve ever had to make. We never wanted this outcome, but we knew it was coming. And when the…

Three days later, Blakely passed away in my arms. As I held him, the doctors came in to share the news that Dericka had tested positive for Trisomy 18. Until that moment, we had hoped the Trisomy 18 diagnosis belonged to Blakely. But in another rare twist, it turned out each of our twins had…

OAW has been instrumental in keeping Genesis Makenna’s memory alive, giving me a place to heal and a way to give back to families like mine. Being directly involved in this work — the same work that meant so much to me during my darkest moments — has brought healing and meaning I never expected.

The NICU Halloween Mini Sessions began in 2023 and have quickly become a cherished annual tradition for both hospital staff and OAW volunteers. Each session celebrates resilience, community, and the small but powerful joys that can exist even in the most delicate circumstances.

Looking back, knowing now what they offer, I wish I had connected with On Angels’ Wings back in 2019 when we experienced our first loss. Because I knew loss was possible, with Jamysen I had simply wanted a family photo in case something unexpected happened… but we were blessed with more than I could have…

Theophilus (Theo) was born at just 25 weeks—a true micro preemie. I just want to give him the best life we possibly can. I never want [a] diagnosis to define him. He’s already done so much more than the doctors ever predicted he would.

His diagnosis and death deeply impacted our lives. We were thrust into a world we didn’t recognize, trying to navigate the deep grief of losing a child while still being parents and attempting to move forward. The aftermath of child loss is a winding road and can be treacherous. We have to learn how to…

We can’t take him out and show him the world like we want to because he gets sick so easily. And when he does, it becomes life-threatening.