Our Rainbow

It was Friday, February 13th.

I awoke feeling such peace and clarity. I had just dreamed that somehow Simone communicated to me that I was pregnant. And with a girl at that.

Before this, I have only had dreams of talking to people about my baby who had died, but never actually communicating with her directly. In my dream, Simone didn't speak to me, I couldn't see her. But, somehow, I felt her presence. Such a gift. 

I was not expecting to actually get pregnant that month. But nevertheless, took my test and I guess I wasn't surprised at all that it was positive after that dream. 

There were so many little glimmers of hope that day that made me think it would be real this time: my dream, I noticed the first flower in the ground cover of Simone's tree that same day. Later, a truck drove by right in front of me and it said, "happy rainbow". Only fitting, since the baby after you lose one is called a Rainbow Baby. 

“It is understood that the beauty of a rainbow does not negate the ravages of any storm. When a rainbow appears, it does not mean that the storm never happened or that we are not still dealing with its aftermath. It means that something beautiful and full of light has appeared in the midst of the darkness and clouds. Storm clouds may still hover, but the rainbow provides a counterbalance of color, energy and hope.” -unknown

That night, I gave Lane a mushy handmade valentine and at the very end snuck in my news. He cried and cried, so  surprised and so happy to be on this journey again. 

I was terrified to tell Gabriela. Simone's death crushed her. She talks about never having her own baby sometimes, because after all the hard work of pregnancy, your baby could die. We decided to wait as long as we could, especially since my last two pregnancies have ended in miscarriages. 

I had been feeling much more queasy than with any other pregnancy, and when I went for my ultrasound at nine weeks, the doctor told me I'd lost a twin. The strange part was that a few weeks prior, Lane said, in amazement at my six week belly, "what if it's twins??"  Now, I have heard this comment at numerous points in each of my pregnancies. But for the first time, I thought, oh my! What if it is twins?? The thought preoccupied me, wondering how I'd get through nights of nursing two babies, what would homeschooling be like juggling two newborn babies, how were we going to situate all those car seats. And, I was in baby counting mode the second the images appeared on the ultrasound screen. I thought maybe I was crazy when I only saw one baby, but was still mindblown when he gave me the news. At the possibility of having had two babies at once, and that, at some level, despite that shock, I already knew I was carrying twins, if only for a little while. 

So, this is my fourth pregnancy in less than one year. One precious baby girl born still, two miscarriages, and then a lost twin. But I'm still carrying this Rainbow Baby of mine. 

 I had heard the heartbeat, had an ultrasound, made it past 12 weeks, and had some good results on blood tests. We decided that, at 14 weeks, it was time to share our news with Gabriela and Easton. 

We all sleep in a gigantic (queen plus full sized) bed in our room, and on the ceiling, there are three glow in the dark stars, one for each of our babies. Well. Lane cleverly thought to add a miniature star next to the three. Gabriela noticed the star immediately, and asked why it was there. When he told her I was pregnant, Gabriela's response was just precious. She uttered at least three consecutive "really?!?!"s, each in higher octaves, and then her eyes filled with tears. She said she was just so happy. Frankly, I was certain she knew. I have a very obvious baby bump and have been wondering why she hasn't asked. She later told me she just thought I was getting fat. Oh, polite child, thank you for not telling me I was getting fat. Gabriela touched my belly, cuddled it, and sang You Are My Sunshine, just like she used to with Simone. 

Easton seemed oblivious to this whole conversation. I didn't think he really knew what was going on. But then he enthusiastically started cheering, "Mama's having a baby!!"  He joined in talking to the baby. He announced he wanted to name the baby Han Skywalker and said to my belly, "baby, we can watch Star Wars with each other". Gabriela promptly informed the baby that there should be no television watching until age 3. Easton said he couldn't wait for the baby to come out so they could play together and build a fort. But we would have to be careful, he said, so the baby doesn't mess up the fort. 

Later that night, Gabriela asked me if I was nervous and if this baby would live. We told her that what happened to us with Simone was very uncommon and that we hope so much that it doesn't happen again. But the truth is, we can't make promises. We just have to do our best to create a healthy environment for this baby to grow in. We are nervous, but we really hope everything will go the way it is supposed to this time. She returned to her excitement but then later cried because she couldn't stop thinking about Simone.

The next morning, Gabriela woke me up to see if I'd thought of any baby names. She just keeps putting her hand on my belly and saying she can't believe we are having another baby. Gabriela has also turned into a walking newspaper. She is telling everyone she knows and comes in contact with. She is completely over the moon about this pregnancy. 

It is refreshing to see such unguarded joy and excitement, but also terrifying. I am so much more aware that it is always possible for something to go wrong. What if they discover something wrong at my 20 week ultrasound, what if something goes wrong at the birth? As much as I wish I could, I can't protect Gabriela from hurt that goes together with such love. I am worried for her. I don't want to see her go through this pain again. I hope so desperately that she doesn't have to. 

I worry for us too, of course. There is no safety zone in this pregnancy. Not at 12 weeks, or after a 20 week ultrasound, or at 24 weeks viability, or at 37 weeks, full term. Not even at 41 weeks, when Simone was born.  But I am trying not to preoccupy myself because I know that whatever happens, I really have no control. It's a hard thing to let go of and release to the universe, but what else can I do? 

I worry that people will feel like, with this pregnancy, we are "fixing" our loss of Simone, that we don't have to worry or talk about or hurt for her anymore. That, obviously, will never happen. But there is so much taboo and discomfort around death in our culture, especially the death of a baby. People already avoid talking about her. A new baby will never replace Simone, but will bring new life, love, and happiness in our home. 

We are cautiously excited, definitely anxious, and trying to take this day by day, hoping for the safe arrival of a healthy, living baby brother or sister this October.