Details

  • Time: 7:00pm – 9:30pm (Doors open at 6pm)
  • Location: 1420 Sappington Rd, St. Louis, MO 63126
  • 21+ Only
  • Outside food welcome!
  • Registration opens 7/21

Table Information

Purple Table $320

8 People

Unlimited Drinks

White Table $240

8 people

2 Drink Tickets


Sponsorship Opportunities

Title Sponsor – $10,000

  • Sponsorship Recognition* – 
  • 2 VIP Tables**
  • Opportunity to address the audience
  • Provide hard copy and/or digital materials to share with event participants

Platinum Sponsor – $5,000

  • Sponsorship Recognition*-
  • 2 VIP Tables**

Gold Sponsor – $2,000

  • Recognition on Event Signage
  • 1 VIP Table**

Bar Sponsor – $3,000

  • Logo on Bar
  • 1 VIP Table**

Photo Booth Sponsor – $2,000

  • Logo on Printed & Digital Pictures
  • 1 VIP Table**

Bingo Round Sponsor – $500

  • 1 of 10 rounds
  • Round Recognition with message, logo & name

*Sponsorship Recognition- name/logo on Bingo Event marketing, social media and website promotions as well as signage and verbal messaging the night of the event

**VIP Tables (room for 8 players) will include unlimited beer, wine, water & soda delivered to your table.

Catherine Cares is excited to announce a partnership with the St. Louligans!

On January 20th, during the Louligans annual general meeting, Catherine Cares was announced as a charity partner with the Louligans. The Louligans is an organization with a storied history of being top notch St. Louis soccer supporters for 14 years. As we have come to know some members of the group we have recognized them as dedicated, passionate, extremely fun, welcoming and generous. Their impact on the St. Louis community has made St. Louis a better place to work, live, and play.

We are beyond thankful for the opportunity to partner with the Louligans. This partnership will help Catherine Cares uplift thousands more families experiencing an unimaginable journey. The heart of our mission is to serve families of babies facing a life-threatening diagnosis. Our Heartbeat Bears give families a tangible keepsake that provides comfort when they learn their precious baby has a life-threatening condition, an unforgettable moment.

We are both humbled and grateful the Louligan community will give families love and support in these moments. We can’t wait to share more details of this exciting partnership as the year unfolds! 



If the Louligans are a group you’re unfamiliar with, please learn more about the St. Louis City SC Supporters Group and all they do for the St. Louis Community.

If you’d like to become a Louligan or assist with their game day experience, click below:

Catherine Cares can only continue to grow and do more to serve families by your valuable donations. Please consider going to our donate page to assist us in uplifting families.

Meet Katie!

Katie Bommarito

Hello! My name is Katie Bommarito and I am the new Executive Director of Catherine Cares. I am beyond thrilled to take on this role with such an incredible organization.

Over the years, I have witnessed the beautiful and heartfelt mission of Catherine Cares come to life through the donations of Heartbeat Bears & restaurant and fuel gift cards to families whose babies receive a life-threatening diagnosis.  During these unthinkable circumstances, we often don’t know what to say or how to comfort a hurting family. Through their own grief, Lauren & Wayne Turley created this nonprofit to let families know they are not alone on this journey. The Heartbeat Bears give families the gift of the sound of their baby’s heartbeat. It is painfully sad to think about, and yet, incredibly beautiful. Expecting a baby is an exciting and overwhelming life experience. Sadly, unfortunate situations happen and it leaves parents and their families hurting, confused, and unsure how to move forward.  Catherine Cares’ Heartbeat Bears provide comfort, and a tangible reminder of a sweet and loved baby that will be cherished forever.

I am truly honored to be part of Catherine Marie’s legacy to give families a sign of love, and hope that they will weather this storm. Together, our Catherine Cares team, looks forward to partnering with additional hospitals, reaching more families, and expanding our services to discover creative ways to support all family members embarking on this difficult journey. 

Billy G’s Gift Cards purchased in April 2020
#UpliftTogether

During these challenging times, it’s important for Catherine Cares to remember where we started.

When we started Catherine Cares, we relied on restaurant partners to help establish us and trust us as a new organization.

We feel a responsibility to the restaurant community to help our restaurants through these difficult times.  Without our restaurants, we are unable to provide our services to families.

Catherine Cares has made it a goal to purchase gift cards to restaurant partners throughout this stay at home order time period to return the favor and offer some assistance to these wonderful and supportive restaurants.

Our first restaurant partner is Billy G’s in Kirkwood, one of the many Gianino Family Restaurants. Billy G’s has supported Catherine Cares from the very beginning. They have served our Urban Chestnut beer, Reine Liebe, sold our Heartbeat Bears and hosted several events for us. Billy G’s understands the importance of family and uplifting those families struggling with a baby’s newborn or prenatal life-threatening diagnosis. We are grateful for Billy G’s and all of their support!

We encourage our followers to order curbside pick-up from Billy G’s! It’s delicious!

And if you know of a struggling restaurant which might appreciate our support, please let us know. We will reach out to see if there might be a way we can help!

Thanks so much for helping these restaurants who have chosen to help us uplift families. #UpliftTogether #UpliftFamilies

This was the moment I refused to think about or prepare for in advance. As a planner, a Type A personality, my mind wanted to be prepared for every possible situation but I just couldn’t with this one. My heart was in charge in this moment. My heart had physically ached every day since the diagnosis 14 weeks ago. My heart was broken and now here we were. Everything had played out. And here I was at the very moment I prevented myself from thinking about or preparing for. This was the moment my heart was dreading.

I had given birth to our second daughter 12 hours earlier. And now I was being discharged. The orderly was pushing my wheelchair out of my postpartum room. I was leaving with empty arms. My daughter had just passed away 11 hours ago. I was leaving the hospital without my new, precious baby girl.

—–

Mid-September 2014, I was 20 weeks pregnant with our second child. Our oldest, Madeline, was almost 19 months. My February 2015, due date meant our two children would be exactly two years apart. We were slowly preparing for this next stage of parenting: changing two sets of diapers, sleep deprivation, nursing, where to put our second child in our two bedroom home, how to balance a toddler with a newborn as well as all of the other joys that come with finding out you are expecting your second child.

We scheduled our regular OB appointments and ultrasounds. We decided to skip genetic testing again. There was no reason to be concerned and we wanted the gender to be a surprise in the delivery room with this baby as well. Besides chasing around a toddler while being pregnant, this pregnancy was moving along just like my first – par for the course.

My 20-week growth ultrasound was scheduled for September 22. We woke up that morning having no idea this would be the day our hearts would break. This was the day our lives were put on hold. Our world stopped. This was the first day of our new, devastating journey and when we became aware of the very short time we would have with our second daughter, who we named Catherine Marie.

It was at this appointment we first learned about the long list of health concerns for our Catherine:

Several heart defects.

Water on the brain and other brain abnormalities.

Intestines in a pouch outside of her body.

Not measuring at the appropriate gestational age.

Left Hand clinched.

As the doctor shared her list of concerns, my heart immediately began to hurt. As worried and shocked as I was sitting there listening to this long list of issues, I kept asking myself “How am I going to be a good mother to Madeline when my world is shattering around me?”

As a result of this appointment, time stood still for our family. We didn’t know exactly how things were going to play out. But what we did know was that it was highly unlikely we were going to bring our beautiful baby girl home with us. Her sweet body was not made for this world.

As we tried to accept this devastating reality, the rest of the story was completely up in the air. Would Catherine make it to her due date? Would I go into preterm labor?  Would she be liveborn? How long would we have with her? Would she need to spend time in the NICU? Would Madeline be able to meet her little sister? Would we have time to baptize her? Would other family members meet her? Where would she be buried? What did we want her funeral to be like? It was all consuming, extremely emotional and overwhelming.

I remember rocking in the recliner at home after my 20-week growth ultrasound wishing I could fast forward the next 20 weeks. I wanted to know how everything played out so my questions could be answered. And yet at the same time, I wanted to extend and stretch out this pregnancy as long as possible to be physically close to Catherine and to get to know every little thing about her while I still could.

As the weeks rolled on, we experienced great love and support from family, friends and our outstanding doctors and nurses. We soldiered on in between doctor appointments and ultrasounds. Crying and trying to prepare became part of our regular routine. We included Catherine in everything we did. We celebrated Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas as a family of four. No matter how hard we tried to keep on living, it was always in the back of our minds… What does Catherine’s journey look like?

My due date was 7 weeks away. My last ultrasound showed no signs of pre-term labor. My doctor even thought I might go full term. But that wasn’t Catherine’s plan. Late on December 29th I went into labor while I was trying to fall asleep. I waited a few hours to tell Wayne because the contractions were mild. I needed some time to process what was happening. And I needed him rested. I was strangely calm. About 2am, I finally woke Wayne up and we called the exchange. My doctor happened to be on call. She wanted me to come to the hospital, but I could wait until my contractions became more regular and/or intense. After hanging up, we decided to get ready for the hospital anyway. We weren’t going to sleep at this point and we had a few things to take care of like packing our bags. My sister arrived to stay with Madeline. She helped me locate a little baby outfit of Madeline’s for Catherine to wear. While we were moving the tub, I had to pause while I contracted. With a 25 minute drive ahead of us, we decided it was time to go. We left for the hospital at 4:30am on December 30th. On the way my contractions became much more intense. I was now bracing myself and breathing through them as they checked us in at triage. During the exam everyone was surprised to discover I was 100% effaced and 8cm dilated. This kicked me into transition. I was experiencing transition in the elevator up to the delivery room while sitting in a wheelchair. This part, in particular, was no fun. Approximately 8 doctors and nurses were waiting in the delivery room for us. Some were there for me and my care. Most were there for Catherine.

I wasn’t in the delivery room long before it was time to push. I was nervous about this part because of my first experience with labor. I labored with Madeline for 27 hours and pushed for 3 of those hours. Her delivery ended in a c-section. I did not want another c-section for many reasons: being at the hospital for days recovering most likely without my baby to hold, having to recover physically from major surgery, being away from Wayne, being away from Madeline who really didn’t understand what was happening around her, and just being alone sitting in the hospital. I did not want to be alone. I needed to be surrounded by those who love me in a familiar space.

Things were happening so quickly, there was no time for an epidural. I was going to have to bear down feeling every single sensation that comes with a drug free vaginal birth so I could meet my baby girl.

It was time to push. I pushed twice. It was like I had never done this before. I knew I wasn’t doing it right. My mind started to wonder, “Can I do this? Am I strong enough? I should have taken a refresher course. I do not want a c-section.” I could tell I was going to a not so good place in my mind which was affecting me physically. I had to set myself straight. I began screaming at myself… all in my mind that is, “Listen here, Lauren. You ARE going to have this baby vaginally. You don’t have a choice. So you gather up every ounce of strength you have and you push that baby out.  You CAN and you WILL.”  I asked the nurses for a few pushing pointers and I got to it. It worked. She began to move. We were doing it.

Twenty five minutes later, Catherine Marie was born at 6:45am. She was only 33 weeks, 7 weeks early. She weighted 2 pounds 5 ounces and was 15 inches long.

After that last push and I knew Catherine was here, the first thing I heard was Wayne ask for us, “Is she alive?” Something I never pictured us having to ask right after I gave birth. They told us, “Yes”. But that is all I knew. Catherine was taken over to the warming bed. Doctors and nurses began working with her while I was dealing with the after birth. I asked Wayne to stay with Catherine.

Not having given birth vaginally to Madeline, I did not appreciate the wild adrenaline rush one has after giving birth with the wave of emotions and hormone releases. I became very chatty.  I’m not exactly sure what I was saying. What I didn’t realize from the delivering bed was what was happening at the warming bed. As Catherine’s father, Wayne was bombarded with questions from the doctors regarding our wishes for Catherine after birth. The medical team had to double and triple check decisions before taking any action. Time was of the essence so these questions came at Wayne fast and furious. It was overwhelming and unexpected but so was everything thus far on Catherine’s birthday.

Everyone in the room knew our wishes for Catherine was comfort care, not extraordinary measures. Part of comfort care is to administer an oxygen mask, if required, to help with breathing right after birth. Catherine was not getting enough oxygen which was evident by her gray appearance. Once the doctor had his affirming answers from Wayne, he administered oxygen. Wayne was also asked if we wanted Catherine baptized. We wanted Catherine to be baptized by the same priest who baptized Madeline… if there was time. Wayne asked me what I wanted to do for her baptism. I was not understanding the severity of the situation from 15 feet away so I was asking questions. Unbeknownst to us someone called the hospital’s on call deacon while we discussed the situation. About a minute after we decided to have Catherine baptized by the on call deacon, he appeared in the room. Thank goodness someone took action before we did. Catherine was baptized with Wayne and two nurses by her side. The two nurses were declared her godparents. (We had her certificate changed after the fact to reflect her actual godparents, but we appreciated the nurses filling in.) Catherine was baptized and was breathing on her own although it was shallow. She was not in any pain. She was so peaceful. It became clear by the doctor’s comments, Catherine would not be with us long. It became everyone’s priority to get Catherine swaddled and into my arms as quickly as possible.

Even though it took some time after birth, Catherine and I finally met face to face. My Catherine was in my arms snuggling with me. The doctors had long lists of what wasn’t “right” about her body, but to me she was perfect. She had 10 fingers and 10 toes. Her beautiful face was angelic. All I could do was stare and stroke her little cheek. I talked to her. I told her how much I loved her and how happy I was to finally meet her. I told her about her big sister. Wayne was at the head of the bed looking over my shoulder taking in the moment as well. We were together loving on our baby.

What we didn’t realize right away was what was happening around us… which was nothing. Nothing was happening. The delivery room was full of doctors and nurses and not one person was moving, charting, cleaning up or taking vitals. The room was still. Tears were quietly being shed and wiped away by many doctors and nurses. Body language was communicating sadness and respect. Our Catherine’s life was being honored in the stillness. The doctors and nurses, most of whom we barely knew, were grieving right along with us. They were physically surrounding us with love. It was a powerful and beautiful moment we will never forget.

After some time, the staff excused themselves. Our family was trickling in to meet Catherine, to shed tears and give hugs. Madeline spent time with her sister, but it was all overwhelming for her being only 22 months old. And she wasn’t so sure she liked seeing me holding another baby – an age appropriate response regardless of the situation.

It was about an hour after birth. Catherine and I were snuggling and I could tell our Catherine was gone. It was peaceful and free of pain. But I just knew. I asked the nurse to check for a heartbeat. She couldn’t find one. Our Catherine’s journey was finally over. But our journey, our grieving, our new normal, our story as parents of infancy loss was just beginning.

We spent time with Catherine after she passed. For me, this wasn’t strange or uncomfortable. As her mom, I was craving as much time with her as possible. I needed to see her, hold her and kiss her. I needed to insure she knew how much we loved her. Professional pictures were scheduled for that afternoon. I was able to dress her for our pictures. I am grateful for this opportunity to do at least one of my mothering duties. We treasure these beautiful pictures.

Lauren dressing Catherine

Eventually, it was time to officially say goodbye. I had a few minutes alone with Catherine. I held her close and tight. I kissed her face. I blessed her forehead. I couldn’t say goodbye. So I whispered into her ear, “I love you, baby girl. Until we meet again.” I handed her to the nurses. And that is the last time I saw our baby. Wayne and I hugged and cried.

It was unknown for a while if my body was well enough to be discharged before Madeline went to bed that night but the doctors thought it might be possible. Later that afternoon, I was given permission to leave. I was discharged just 12 hours after giving birth.

Leaving the hospital was bittersweet. I wanted to be home. However, for me, the absolute hardest part of this day was still to come and I knew it. Of course, it was difficult and extremely painful to say goodbye to our Catherine earlier that day. But I was about to embark on my first and biggest obstacle as a mother of infancy loss. While my mind knew it was only her body which remained at the hospital, this was the first time I would be physically separated from her. Sure, we will meet again someday, God-willing. But for now, my mothering responsibilities were over just as quickly as they began and nothing about that felt natural.

Wayne helped me into the car. As we pulled away from the hospital and the separation between me and Catherine became greater and greater as we journeyed home, all I could do was wail. It was a cry I have never heard me cry before. It was more than just sadness. It was a release of all of the physical pain I was feeling right at that moment. It was the beginning of my journey with grief. It was a mother falling apart. I cried the entire 25-minute ride home.

It was just after 7pm on Catherine’s birthday as we headed home. Wayne and I did not want to go home to an empty house so we asked our family to join us for some pizza and drinks. Bringing your baby home from the hospital is a joyous… somewhat terrifying…experience. Being robbed of that opportunity and actually dreading this very moment, we couldn’t imagine being alone. Our family helped to fill that void. Eventually people began to leave. Wayne and I were so tired and emotionally drained, we were actually able to get some sleep. This was a good thing as tomorrow we would officially start our messy, emotional and uncomfortable lives as bereaved parents.

To read Catherine’s fathers perspective of Catherine’s birthday/day she went home, click here.

To read Wayne’s perspective of Catherine’s birthday/day she went home, click here.

We knew from the beginning our Heartbeat Bears were very unique. They were designed to provide comfort to the recipient while being user-friendly for the individual recording the heartbeat. Of course, our initial target audience was our Catherine Cares’ families – families of babies who receive a prenatal or newborn life-threatening diagnosis. But even while we were in the designing stages, we believed our bears would service additional purposes… we just didn’t know where they were needed at the time. Earlier this year we discovered one of those purposes – an important and impactful purpose for our Heartbeat Bears.

In the spring of 2019, the St Louis Cardinals hosted a Transplant Awareness Day at Busch Stadium. You might remember the news story of a donor’s family listening to the heartbeat of their brother within the chest of the heart recipient. It was an emotional and coincidental meeting. A very special bond and friendship started that day all because a young man named Donovan made his wishes very well known – he wanted to be an organ donor.

This story left an impression on our organization. The emotionally raw video of Donovan’s family desperate to feel connected to their brother through the sound of his heartbeat was a feeling we could most certainly relate to. We knew very quickly we needed to get this family a Heartbeat Bear.

Wayne, John, Lauren & Savannah holding Donovan’s
Heartbeat Bear

Early in December, we met with Donovan’s sister, Savannah, and the heart recipient, John, and his family. John brought a heartbeat recording from his last cardiologist appointment. We recorded Donovan’s heartbeat within John’s chest on 8 Heartbeat Bears – one for each member of Donovan’s family. It was a special afternoon. We aren’t usually the ones making heartbeat recordings. The heartbeats for Catherine Cares’ families are usually recorded at a hospital or doctor’s office. But this afternoon, we were responsible for capturing the recording. Those 8 bears were on a very special mission which we had to help them fulfill. We had a unique sense of responsibility for those 8 bears. It was intense!

While making the recordings was our focus, there was more to our time together. We were getting to know two very special families. While we started as strangers and while each of our three families have different stories, we were all connected through loss, gratitude and love. We shared our stories with each other. We cried together. We hugged. We wrapped the newly recorded Bears to prepare them for their ultimate destinations. And we took pictures to remember our time together.

In preparation for this gathering, I was worried about the logistics and making sure we had what we needed to complete our tasks. What I didn’t prepare myself for was the real emotions from our time together. It was a profound experience. And it was a privilege to be able to prepare the Heartbeat Bears for Donovan’s family.

The following week, Donovan’s family received their very special gifts.

Donovan Bulger’s family receives heartbeat bears

Watching the many emotions on the faces of each family member reminds us how important memories of loved ones gone too soon are. Each person held their Heartbeat Bear with great affection and care. It is more than a teddy bear; it is a tangible and direct link to their son, brother and uncle. To this family, the Heartbeat Bear is priceless. Mission Accomplished!

Catherine Cares’ ability to provide heart donors’ families the gift of their loved one’s heartbeat within a soft, cuddly bear is yet another powerful reason our Heartbeat Bears are so special.

As for Donovan, we are in awe of his selfless act and the gift he gave to John and his family.

And we are honored to play a very small role in uplifting Donovan’s family this holiday season.

~Lauren  


Come enjoy some Reine Liebe at the Point’s Eat and Treat this year! Additional details can be found here!

Urban Chestnut makes a special beer for Catherine Cares. Contact us to see how you can get the beer in your restaurant and uplift families!

Family Day Activities

Catherine Cares hosts many activities in support of family day. This years kids activities were:

  • Bags
  • Coloring Sheets
  • Cookie Decorating
  • Outdoor Jenga
  • Pumpkin Tic-Tac-Toe
  • Photo Booth
  • Squirrel Hunt
  • Yodeling Contest

Photo Booth Pictures

Did you take a picture at Family Day? Feel free to download them below! Please be sure to post to social media with the #FamilyDay #OktoberfestSTL #UpliftingFamilies

Our Catherine has two sisters, Madeline and Hannah. Madeline is older than Catherine. Hannah is younger. Madeline has vivid memories of Catherine. At this point, Hannah is still too young to understand that she even has another sister despite the fact she replies with “yeah” when we talk about Catherine. (Maybe on some level she really does know about her sweet sister in heaven though.)

Madeline and Hannah’s experiences with their sister, Catherine, are drastically different. Madeline is a major part of Catherine’s story. Someday we will explain to Madeline what an important role she played throughout my pregnancy with Catherine from the “ignorance is bliss” first half of the pregnancy to the growth ultrasound which completely devastated our world to the day Catherine was born and passed an hour later. Madeline gave us purpose. Madeline kept us smiling. Madeline gave the best hugs when we were sad. Madeline reassured us that we were capable of being good, attentive parents despite our broken hearts. Madeline did all of this at just a year old. Madeline was a key player during Catherine’s journey. We needed her as much as she needed us. 

Even though Hannah never met Catherine here on earth, Hannah’s position in the family is no less important. As our rainbow baby, Hannah gives hope. You can feel it in her outgoing, silly, headstrong personality. She is determined to insure her role is not overlooked and greatly appreciated. She brings quite a smile to all of our faces. She, too, gives some really spectacular hugs! And Hannah is only a year old.

Madeline was 22nd months and 5 days old on the day Catherine was born and passed. Over the last month, as Hannah has been approaching this exact age, I’m shocked at how much younger Hannah seems to me compared to Madeline at the same age. Maybe it’s because Hannah is my baby and I wish I could keep her little as long as possible. Or maybe it’s because Madeline was forced to grow up a little quicker due to the grief and sadness she witnessed at such a tender age.

Regardless of the reasons, today Hannah is 22 months and 5 days old. Today is September 22nd. Today is the 5th anniversary of my growth ultrasound with Catherine alerting us to all of the doctor’s worries for our baby girl. Five years ago today our unexpected and devastating journey with Catherine began. I vividly remember on this exact date 5 years ago rocking in the living room, crying while staring into space, rubbing my belly feeling physically sick from my broken heart. I remember wishing I was months if not years removed from that very moment so the intensity of the physical ache was softened. So all of our questions were answered. So our baby’s story had played out. So all of our worries were no more. The burden felt so so heavy that night. It felt impossible to deal with and yet deep down I knew I could. I just didn’t know how yet. I had a lot to process that night. 

This is a sad anniversary for us. Having said that, I can’t help but notice the incredible connection between Hannah’s age today on this anniversary and Madeline’s age on Catherine’s birthday. It’s these connections, these realizations, these subtle nods that give me hope. They give me comfort. They give me reassurance. And now that I am five years removed from that very night, I notice that the pain is still there. It has softened. Our questions were answered. Catherine’s journey was short but her positive impact on this world continues every day through Catherine Cares. We did find joy again especially in our little girls. But I think often about that mom rocking in her living room on the night she learned her unborn baby is not well. I want to hug her and remind her she is strong. She is capable. It won’t always be easy, but she can do this. And she is most certainly not alone. 

Urban Chestnut makes a special beer for Catherine Cares. Come celebrate its return with us on Thursday, June 20th!