LaToya Harris-Freeman

My commitment to March for Babies is deeply personal and rooted in both loss and resilience.

Before becoming a mother to my daughter Kendall, I experienced the heartbreak of infant loss. That experience changed me in ways that words can never fully capture. It introduced me to a grief that was isolating, confusing, and heavy. It also opened my eyes to how fragile pregnancy and infant health can be, and how many families quietly carry similar pain.

When I became pregnant again, I carried both hope and fear. Kendall is my rainbow baby—a symbol of healing after loss—but her arrival was not without challenges. She was born prematurely, and those early days were filled with uncertainty. Instead of simply enjoying those first precious moments, I found myself worrying about her survival, her development, and her ability to thrive.

One of our biggest challenges was her difficulty with weight gain. Every ounce mattered. Every feeding mattered. Every appointment carried anxiety and hope all at once. What many people take for granted—bringing home a healthy baby and watching them grow without concern—was something we had to fight for.

Through that journey, I gained a profound appreciation for the medical professionals, research, education, and community support that help premature babies survive and thrive. I also learned firsthand the emotional toll that families experience when faced with prematurity and infant health complications.

That is why March for Babies is so important to me.

March for Babies represents hope. It represents research that saves lives. It represents support for families who feel alone. It represents advocacy for healthier pregnancies and stronger babies.

Today, Kendall is thriving, and every milestone she reaches reminds me of how far she has come and how blessed I am. Supporting March for Babies is my way of honoring the child I lost, celebrating my rainbow baby, and helping ensure that other families have access to the resources, care, and support they need.

I walk for the babies who didn’t make it.
I walk for the babies still fighting.
And I walk in gratitude for the baby who made me a mother.