We traveled to Gainesville since they got us in first. Their more in-depth anatomy scan lasted an hour and a half and the results determined that our son, Mark, would be arriving within a few short weeks. We followed up with the specialist in Jacksonville, and they confirmed the findings from the Gainesville appointment, only they were more optimistic about the due date. To everyone’s surprise, Mark was born at 27 weeks and 4 days- a second-trimester delivery, with IUGR. Mark was born at 27 weeks and 4 days but was the size of a 24-weeker. With low amniotic fluid, Mark was immediately sent to the NICU and intubated. As a mom on MAG, I wasn’t able to see him until he was 36 hours old. With all of the wires and tubes of the oscillator, I wasn’t able to hold him until he was 38 days old. It broke me.

I met many other NICU moms who were suffering financially because they stepped away from their careers. I had a hard time connecting with Mark in the NICU because of the delay in seeing him and holding him. He spent so long in just a diaper, I wondered when he would ever wear clothes. The entire experience broke me. Looking back, it made me stronger. Looking back, there were plenty of opportunities to promote family bonding- for families to experience that connection I needed.

So I decided to start Mark’s Mission, to promote family bonding in the NICU and other hospital units and I hope to grow our organization to serve more than Northeast Florida because these barriers, this pain, this journey is not just limited to our community.

Come Along on Our Journey

Hello! My name is Brittany and I am the Founder and CEO of Mark’s Mission. You’re probably wondering how and why all of this came to be. The truth is, I am a former NICU mom and my son, Mark, is the reason for this entire organization.

You see, the NICU changed me- it changed us. It took everything I knew about motherhood and threw it right out the window. Here is a bit about our story.

Our pregnancy was planned. It was full of excitement and the future was bright, until our 20 week scan. I went into my doctor’s office, just as I had many times before, but this time was different. I felt off. I felt anxious. After the anatomy scan, the doctor told me (and I am going to quote her) “Something is not right. I don’t know what it is. I am not smart enough to figure it out, but I am going to send you to people who are.”