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September 2026

Sep 25
Love0

Ava’s Journey Home  

By Birth

By Sam and Chloe Gill  

September is Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) Awareness Month, a time to honor infants in intensive care, explore how to best support their families, and celebrate the healthcare professionals who are making a difference. In our 2026 LIFTS Magazine, we featured this beautiful narrative by first-time parents Sam and Chloe Gill, who reflected on the early birth of their daughter, Ava, in 2025, and the ways they were supported by the staff at the Community Medical Center Level III NICU and Ronald McDonald House™ Missoula. 

NICU JourneySam Gill:     

Our family has been coming to our off-grid cabin west of Missoula for almost 50 years. I loved coming here as a child, and after I met Chloe, the cabin became part of both of our lives. Chloe was 26 weeks pregnant with our first baby when we returned as a family last August.   

We settled into the cabin when Chloe started feeling increasingly uncomfortable with what she thought might be indigestion. Her symptoms worsened overnight, and to be safe, we thought we should find a clinic in Missoula. The next morning we were driving up Reserve Street and it was clear that we had a medical situation – but we weren’t yet aware that this was a medical emergency.  

We navigated to Community Medical Center, which houses the NICU unit and the Ronald McDonald House. Within a few minutes of coming through the doors, they assessed Chloe, ran initial blood pressure tests, and determined that this could be preeclampsia.   

Even though the situation was intense and life-threatening, everyone was so calm, empathetic and professional. It helped us feel confident that, even though we were in a different place that was far from home, we were going to receive high-quality care.  

Chloe Gill:  

My first trimester was really smooth. But when I woke up that morning at the cabin, this felt different than indigestion. I said to Sam, “I just really don’t feel well.” The pain worsened during our drive into Missoula by the time we arrived at Community, it was clear we made the right decision to go to a hospital.  

I had HELLP Syndrome (Hemolysis, Elevated Liver enzymes and Low Platelets), which is a severe variant of preeclampsia.  The only way to resolve HELLP is by delivering the baby and the placenta. Our doctor very gently told us that there was about an 80 percent chance that Ava would need to be delivered that day for my safety.  

We were unprepared on so many levels. We packed for a vacation, not for parenthood. We arrived at the hospital in our cabin clothes. I work in healthcare, so I knew that having Ava at 26 weeks was significantly early and carried many risks.   

Sam:  

As a soon-to-be parent and the spouse of the person who is suffering from this condition, I worried for both the health of my wife and my baby. The few days we were in the hospital were tough. I remember the night our daughter was delivered; Chloe was so out of it, but suddenly she was very lucid, looked up at us and said, “It’s time.” She knew – call it mother’s intuition – and the team quickly mobilized.  

I give Chloe so much credit for listening to those instincts. Waiting even 30 more minutes would have led to a more dire emergency, as her placenta was in the process of detaching. The Community Medical team was so attentive and responsive to Chloe.  She was in the driver’s seat and they were there to amplify care and make sure that Chloe and Ava had the best outcome possible.  

Chloe:  

Our daughter was born at 10:01 p.m. on August 15, 2025, weighing one pound and 12 ounces. She was just 11 inches long. As soon as she was delivered, I started feeling better. But there was still a lot of healing mentally and emotionally. And Ava’s journey in the NICU was just beginning.  

We were blessed with a strong network of support. Both sets of grandparents spent time with us, traveling to and from Minnesota to support our stay. In addition, it was the folks at the Ronald McDonald House – right across the parking lot from the NICU unit at Community – who became the most consistent support outside the hospital. They were so warm and welcoming from the moment we arrived. Having our basic needs met – shelter, food, emotional support – took such a weight off me as I was trying to heal and wrap my mind around being a mom in this very stressful and unplanned situation.  

Sam:  

Week-to-week, there were so many unknowns. What was so nice at the Ronald McDonald House is that they would share information on activities or offer outlets to take your mind off the uncertainty, even for an hour. It was also located next to a beautiful park, where Chloe and I could take a walk, look at the mountains, and escape from the intense pressure and stress of the NICU. [Text Wrapping Break]  

Despite everything, it was so magical getting to spend time with Ava each day. The NICU nurses gave us the opportunity to be very hands-on. They encouraged us to be as active and as present as we wanted to be.    

I remember one day that was very hard. We were told that Ava’s lungs were not resolving. Chloe was still at the NICU with her and I was sitting on a bench in a park. There was a woman, walking by with her little white dog and she stopped, looked at me, and said, “Are you okay?”   

I normally do not open up to strangers but at that moment, I said, “I’m not. My daughter is doing very poorly in the NICU.” And she stopped, sat, put her hand on my shoulder, said a little prayer, hugged me and said, “Know that you’ve got people praying for you.” I never got her name, but that’s exactly what I needed. In that moment, the kindness and hospitality of Montanans really shined.  

Chloe:  

In September, Ava was on the highest level of ventilation that the NICU at Community could provide and she needed more. The Community Medical Center providers knew we had reached a critical point in Ava’s journey and began the process to advocate for Ava to receive a higher level of care. This selfless act demonstrated how they really put Ava and her needs first. In a matter of a few days, transport was arranged to a hospital back in Minnesota. As soon as the details were set, we started to feel the weight of it. There were so many mixed emotions. We were going home. But Ava’s team at Community and the staff at the Ronald McDonald House were the only world we had known in this crisis.   

Sam:  

We had become so close with the staff at the Ronald McDonald House and the providers surrounding Ava.  They became our family. We trusted them with the care of our very fragile and delicate daughter. They were our touch point.  

The Ronald McDonald House team actually offered to ship our car home. In the end, my dad drove back with me, while Chloe went with Ava – and they arranged to have snacks and an encouraging note waiting for me when my dad and I arrived at our hotel in Billings on our first night on the road home. It was all completely above and beyond.  

Chloe:  

After we got home, Ava still had a long journey in the NICU. She had extremely fragile lungs and the outcome was still uncertain, but with the new ventilator she quickly started to make improvements. Eventually, after three more months, Ava was released from the NICU on Christmas Day. It was the best Christmas gift we could imagine, and it’s all thanks to the amazing work of the NICU teams, both in Montana and Minnesota.  

We’re coming back to Missoula for the Ronald McDonald House 20th anniversary event in September. In a beautiful twist, this event also marks one year to the day since Ava was transferred from the NICU and we said goodbye to everyone who meant so much to us.  

Sam  

I can’t wait to introduce Ava to the Community Medical team, the Ronald McDonald House staff and to the family cabin. We’ve carved all of our names in the center pole in the middle of the cabin through three generations. We’ll be carving Ava’s name there too.  

Looking back, Chloe and I learned so much about giving each other grace, while also leaning on each other for strength. We learned how to trust our gut as parents. And how to let other people in, so we could receive help – even if that was just a stranger praying for me on a park bench on a really tough day.   

No one plans to go through what we went through. But I would tell other parents who are facing this journey: Don’t be afraid to lean on other people. This is a time when you need so much support, and support is out there.  

To learn more about Ronald McDonald House™ Missoula, go to https://ronaldmcdonaldhousemissoula.org/ You can also read about the Community Medical Center Level III NICU at https://www.communitymed.org/pediatrics/nicu 

You never know what you’ll need in parenting. LIFTS makes finding support easier, with resources at one website and help just a call away: (406) 430-9100.

Sep 06
Love0

Storytelling Hits Close to Home in upcoming Issue of LIFTS Magazine

By The Power of Story

By Gwyneth Hyndman, HMHB Storytelling Coordinator

 

In each story for our LIFTS Magazine, the end goal is to illuminate the resources here in Montana that help families thrive.

But as we put the sixth annual issue to bed, and look back on the stories and the photos that have been collected in the last seven months, I have my own takeaway: Writing about another family accessing resources is one thing. But making the call to access resources for myself and my own family is another. Even though we know the appointment needs to be made, we can sometimes find this daunting.

And by “we” I mean me. And by “sometimes” I mean a hot July afternoon off Reserve Street in Missoula.

When storyteller Violet Killsnight suggested we meet for photos at Children’s Dentistry of the Rockies, I squirmed. Not a park? Not a pretty field at sunset? It made complete sense, as Violet’s story centered around dental care. But I found myself making suggestions for alternate settings. I realized, en route to our photo session, that I was meeting her at ground zero of my own unique trifecta of mom guilt, procrastination and dread.

The dentists’ office. The scene of so much strife in my late 20s and 30s. The first credit card I ever took out was to pay for a root canal. It was also a place that my daughters, ages 5 and 7, had yet to set foot inside. What kind of mother did that make me? 

Like all appointments I avoid, the longer I put them off, the bigger of a deal they become. And as the years passed, taking my daughters to the dentist had become one big, unwieldy deal.

As my soon-to-be kindergartener roamed with Violet’s kids through the garden, exploring the creek and the wonders of the waiting room, Violet reiterated what a positive, even healing place the dentist’s office had become for her.

“They never made me feel any guilt,” Violet reminded me, as I eyed up the reception desk.

Well, I thought, as Violet and her family pulled away in their car. Let’s test this out.

I nervously made my way to the front desk and said I wanted to make a first appointment for my daughters. I stated their ages. I braced myself for raised eyebrows and a reprimand.

“Great!” I was told. A few clicks of a keyboard and a screen with a calendar was turned towards me.  “Here are our openings this month.”

Easy peasy.

Our first visit 10 days later was, to my surprise, a delight that was covered by our insurance. And we’re on a regular six-month schedule with a dentist my daughters adore. We’re going back to deal with a cavity at the end of August. But judging by their excitement, you’d think we have a trip to the waterpark on the calendar.

Thanks to Violet’s story, that big, unwieldy deal has been wielded. My kids are set up for good dental health. In the chaos of parenthood, I feel like in this particular area, I don’t feel so overwhelmed by what I don’t know.

As you flip through the pages of LIFTS Magazine in the next few weeks, the hope is that if there is a resource you know you need, but taking that first step is uncomfortable, maybe you will find your own “Violet”  in one of these stories. Or maybe you’ll be inspired to share your own roadmap of care in the future, to be that person for other families.

As always, we look forward to hearing from you.