First off, sorry it’s been a while. Life got a bit busy and in the spirit of transparency this one wasn’t an easy one to write. It seemed rather important though so let’s dive in then.

I’ve gotten asked the questions quite a few times and the more times I’ve been asked the more and more I realize how little this topic is talked about.

“What’s a rainbow baby?”

Now if you see the term rainbow baby and understand it, chances are you have experience with the term, know someone else who has used it and explained it or you’re currently waiting for yours. If you see that term and are a little confused, let me explain.

A rainbow baby is a child that is born after pregnancy loss or still birth.

Rainbows can be a beautiful thing. Just the science alone behind how a rainbow becomes visible is a fascinating thing, but the one thing that is certain when a rainbow apears is that water is present. In the case of a rainbow baby… tears are present. See where there is excitement when it comes to giving birth after loss there is often tears as well.

My husband and I were married in 2009 and shortly after got pregnant in 2010. We made the announcement, made all the plans and about week 8 is when I started spotting. I was new to all of this so I spoke to a highly recommended OBGYN in our area and was told not to worry, to come in the next day and that everything was probably fine. It wasn’t. We went in, they did an ultrasound and there was no heartbeat. After being poked and prodded and getting extremely sick, I miscarried our first child in a hospital bathroom.

The weeks that followed were hard. A mix of pain every time someone congratulated me. A dear friend of mine got pregnant 2 weeks ahead of me and there was pain just watching her have a healthy, thriving pregnancy. I spent hours sitting in a chair, in a dark room with nothing more than tears and silence.

About 3 months passed and I got pregnant again. I miscarried again at 7 weeks. This cycle repeated itself two more times before we just stopped trying and stopped counting. Things began to unravel. My husband lost his job shortly after that. We had to move in with my parents for a season. Our marriage became fragile and it all seemed to be falling apart. It was like being caught in a rain storm where it’s dark, windy and there is no relief from the rain.

I think when people talk about pregnancy loss or miscarriages that’s typically the part that’s talked about the most. The immediate grief. The grieving of loss in the moments after but rarely do we talk About the subtle grief that carries on.

After some time of heavy grieving my husband and I took one thing at a time and began to face challenges head on as they came. We focused on our health, getting back on our feet financially and just working on being together alone.

In July of 2012 we found out we were pregnant and you would of thought someone just told me I had 9 months left to live. I was terrified. We didn’t say anything to anyone and we kept waiting for the loss. Week 9 rolled around and things just got more and more stressful. Shortly after I had found out I was pregnant we applied for Medicaid and for who knows what reason we were not approved and cleared to get to a doctor until I was 15 weeks along. Every week waiting was more stressful than the last and I kept waiting for the spotting and cramping to start. Finally we got cleared to go to the doctor and a new wave of emotions hit. Extreme fear gripped me when we went into get an ultrasound. I had felt the baby move many times before but suddenly my belly was still and I kept preparing to hear that there was no heartbeat.

Then we heard it. A strong heartbeat followed by videos of a very active baby girl. A new wave of emotions hit as the reality of a baby became an overwhelming joy. Months passed and the pregnancy for the most part was a smooth one. Then on a Tuesday evening, 28 hours of labor and a c-section later our Rainbow Baby was born. Here is the thing though, the fear didn’t leave after the baby is born.

I was EXTREMELY out of it when our daughter was born (I was given too much anesthetics) and I would hear her cry for a brief moment in time while in the room and then I couldn’t hear her anymore and my mind went wild. Every hour she was alive I kept waiting for it to all end. If she didn’t cry, I panicked. If she cried too much, I panicked. If she slept too long, I panicked. At about 48 hours of her being alive the fear started to subside. My brother and some friends were visiting us in the hospital and the doctors were talking about discharging us soon when a nursing student came into the room to check vitals. We were at a training hospital so we were use to nursing students coming in and checking vitals from time to time. He quickly did his thing, then checked again, then with a puzzled look on his face he checked again. My brother who was still holding his godchild said “she seems to be breathing really fast”. Shortly after the student left and came back with a group of nurses and within about 10 min our room went from laughter to our daughter being rushed to the NICU. The fear returned.

I had now officially been awake for 72 hours and sleep was nowhere in sight because the fear was too great. The whole time I kept thinking, “this is it. This is how we loose her.”

To make a long story short, we didn’t loose her. After about a week in the NICU and some medications the aspirations that were found in her lungs eventually healed and she could breathe on her own, normally. We brought her home and she hasn’t stopped being a strong, very active child since.