It was January of 2015, and I had just barely made it through Christmas. I may or may not have put up a tree that year, not sure. At this point in time, I hadn’t worked for close to five months. To tell you the truth, I hadn’t done much of anything the previous five months. I was sad and I was angry. You see, five months prior, I lost my child. I was 36 weeks pregnant with my first child when the doctor was not able to find a heartbeat. We don’t know what happen, and never will. I was on leave from work and did not like anything, or anyone really. I remember telling myself, and a close friend, I just want to accomplish one thing a day – just one thing. I did not have the motivation or interest in much. I didn’t know where life would lead me, and in some ways, I don’t think I cared. I just hoped it would lead somewhere other than the despair I was experiencing. Then, I found out I was pregnant.
Yep, something that I wanted to happen but could not bring more terror. I was going to have another baby. I remember being so glad knowing that I could get pregnant again. We didn’t know why our son died. We didn’t know if something was wrong with me. We didn’t know if something went wrong with genetics. Did my husband and I have non-cohesive genes? So, you could imagine the excitement of knowing you can get pregnant again, but the fear of it happening again. With both excitement and fear, we were pregnant again – our rainbow.
The first few months were maybe the most difficult because of the lack of appointments. I refused to tell anyone I was pregnant until we knew the gender at 16 weeks, which by this time, many could have guessed. With my first pregnancy, I knew it was a boy, and I was right. With my second pregnancy, I knew it was a girl, and I was right. After twice as many appointments as with my first pregnancy and a scare at 32 weeks, we had a strong and healthy baby girl at 38 weeks. I was able to feel love and joy again. Almost exactly one year after our son died, I was given the opportunity to be a mom to another. She saved me.
This month our rainbow is 4. I sit here typing and thinking about where I was 5 years ago, 4 years ago, and where we are now. This 4-year-old is small but still strong, often referred to as “mighty” by us. She is smart, caring, independent, and bossy. I pray in her fourth year on this earth that she knows how I much I love her – in her heart, her mind, and her soul. She saved me.
I write this blog post for two separate reasons. One, to celebrate my miracle as she turns 4. Two, to encourage others to hold on. Hold on one more day, one more week, one more year. For those that are struggling with a loss or experiencing trauma, trust in time. Life is merciless, but everything changes through time. Where you are today will not be where you are one year from now or five years from now. I can’t say that the hurt that you are experiencing goes away. I will always have a piece of me missing because of losing my child, but you can find joy again if you hold on. Hold on for your rainbow; something to save you.