“We’re going to get some hot chocolate and study at Starbucks,” my friends said as we all shivered outside the building of our lecture hall. They asked if I wanted to join and I contemplated their offer — I was done with class for the day, and it was the beginning of December, which meant finals and my ten-page paper were just around the corner. Despite the temptation, I said, “No, I’m going to go volunteer.” My closest friend spoke up and said, “But you’ll be there for two hours and you have a lot of work to do.” I replied, “I know, but it means a lot to me,” as I turned and made my way down 34th Street in the heart of University City in Philadelphia. As I walked in the 20-degree weather, snow began to fall, and my fingers and toes went numb. I couldn’t help but think that I had made the wrong choice. However, all these sensations quickly faded as a beautiful and welcoming glass building came into view. I entered, made my way past a festive and whimsical lobby and headed up the stairs. As I passed another set of doors, a nurse saw me and said, “Oh, great, a volunteer! Come with me.”

I knew the routine: I put my things away, put a gown over my clothes, washed my hands, and sat in a chair (no, I wasn’t going to be psychoanalyzed or prodded or pricked like a human test subject). The nurse turned around and handed me little baby Andrew. He had blond hair and the biggest blue eyes — a lady-killer, to say the least. I told Andrew about my day, and tried to sing lullabies to the best of my ability. As Andrew drifted off to sleep, I looked around at the rest of the west wing of the newborn intensive care unit (NICU) at the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia (CHOP). Across from us sat a father who looked extremely drained, worried and sad. I peeked over to see what he was staring at — it was an incubator with a UV light and the most fragile baby wrapped in the tiniest blanket. At that moment, baby Andrew’s parents came and said, “Ready to go home, buddy?” Andrew’s mom had tears of joy in her eyes as I reluctantly handed him over to her. As I shared their happy occasion, baby Andrew’s mom explained that he was born two months prematurely and suffered from several birth defects, but he was finally going home after six months in the NICU. As I got up to leave with the family, the sad father across from us glanced up and gave us all a weak smile.

I came back to the NICU the following week, hoping to see a happier father and a healthier baby. As I walked past the section they were in, I saw the man holding his son in his arms, and he looked like a new parent should — overjoyed, peaceful and completely goofy with a big smile. When I began to leave, I noticed a billboard for CHOP, and the tagline caught my eye. It said, “Hope lives here.” I thought about how true this was for CHOP’s NICU and how I hoped, with the March of Dimes help, it would be true for all NICUs across America. I left the hospital only to be welcomed by the freezing December weather and more snowfall, but this time I felt considerably warm. When I arrived at the corner and waited to cross, I glanced up at the street sign and smiled to myself. I was extremely blessed to be a part of the many miracles on 34th Street.

The mission of the March of Dimes is to improve the health of babies by preventing birth defects, premature birth and infant mortality. We help accomplish this through community service, fundraising and advocacy. Advocacy is about getting your voice heard and affecting change that reflects what you believe in. 

March of Dimes volunteers who engage in advocacy act to encourage local, state and national government to adopt public policies, programs and funding to improve the health of infants, children and women of childbearing age. We accomplish this goal through testimonies during hearings, writing our elected officials, and authoring new and monitoring current legislation.   

If you would like to get more involved with the advocacy work of the March of Dimes, please join our action advocacy network. As a network member, you will be kept up to date on any legislation that affects the mission and learn of ways you can help.