In 2019, Stephanie Hauser gave birth to her third son, Zev, at just 23 weeks and 1 lb, 4 oz. At the time, this was under the age of viability, and he was given less than a 1% chance of surviving through birth.
At 23 weeks, babies do not have fully developed lungs, but Zev stunned everyone in the delivery room by crying. In that moment, they collectively realized this little baby who could fit in the palm of their hands was stronger than anyone previously thought.
This began a seemingly impossible journey as Zev fought for his life in UCHealth’s NICU. Every day for five months, or 147 days, there was devastating news, like when two severe brain bleeds wiped out whole parts of Zev’s brain. And every time, Hauser got in the habit of asking the doctor or nurse to flip the narrative and tell them something possible or positive.
“Tell me what’s good,” says Hauser. “It really right-sized the moments and gave us a fuller picture.”
In the case of the brain bleeds Zev was so young that the neural pathways may not have even formed yet.
At two weeks, Zev was declining in health. The Hausers were given the impossible choice of taking him off the machines and having him pass in their arms or trying on last hail Mary—a steroid called Dexamethasone that came with a 95% chance he’d never walk, talk, eat, or breathe on his own.
Again, they looked at the positive. That remaining 5% meant that someone somewhere did, and that could be their kid. The Hausers listened to their intuition and decided that no matter what, he’d have a beautiful life full of love. A life that wouldn’t be less, even if he never did any of those things.
Today, Zev doesn’t just walk and talk. He rock climbs and skis and has meltdowns, just like many other six-year-olds. And Hauser, seemingly wired for positivity, has taken Tell Me What’s Good beyond the NICU.
Stephanie and Ben Hauser run a nonprofit called 4those, which aims to build community for premature babies and their families. They host an annual NICU Family Day Out with a petting zoo and train. They also put on Parent Care Workshops, where a licensed family and trauma therapist helps parents and caregivers find emotional healing. Their long-term goal is to create a permanent place for all of these “impossible kids” and their families, creating a facility with programming for kids born prematurely with disabilities.
To raise funds, Hauser does something every year to mark those 147 days in the NICU. She ran 147 miles over 48 hours, raising $50,000 and creating 147, a Documentary that’s been in several film festivals. To her, nothing feels impossible anymore, and she’s set an even bigger, more ambitious goal for 2026: 1,470 miles and $500,000.
In addition to planning the route for that run, 4those is also working on this year’s Family Day Out on Saturday, June 14, from 9-11 am at Ascent Community Church in Louisville. They’re also bringing 147 to the Durango Independent Film Festival and have an upcoming screening at the Patagonia on Pearl Street on Thursday, March 13th, at 7 pm.
To learn more about upcoming events and how to get involved, visit 4those.org.