This is probably the most personal thing you’ll find that I have posted online or on social media so far. Not that I have a judgment about sharing, just that my husband and I often share family news in person. In fact, you’ll find that if you talk to me in person, I’m pretty much an open book.
Seni was an easy pregnancy. One try, first try, first pregnancy of my life and, at age 35, I found that she was a breeze. No morning sickness, nothing concerning. Her birth, however, was a little more challenging. Luckily we received the medical care that we needed during her birth and she survived what could have been an otherwise potentially fatal outcome.
So with an "easy" pregnancy under my belt, I felt confident and assured that we could do it again. During a year of officially trying for baby #2, we found that things weren’t so easy. No medical explanations were given to us, but it just was not happening. I can’t lie – it became super frustrating, especially to a type-A like myself.
For those of you that have been there, you know. When you’re trying to get pregnant and your body literally aches for a baby, the arrival of your period each month can feel like a punch to the face.
During that time, I did become pregnant and we were initially thrilled. Sadly, at our 8 week ultrasound, we were told that there would be no baby. At 9 weeks, we were told there was a 5% chance of a baby. At 10 weeks, we were told to go ahead and schedule a D&C so we could move on as, clearly, my body hadn’t understood yet. At 11 weeks to the day, on the eve of my scheduled D&C, I had a miscarriage.
Anyone who has lost a pregnancy can speak to the devastation, but also the guilt. Especially when you already have a healthy, thriving child. You believe you shouldn’t feel badly because “at least you have had a baby.” Or you feel awful for others who lost children after birth. Babies who have breathed air, touched their Mothers and had a name. Clearly, this wasn’t the same. But it still feels awful. Anger, confusion and grief. It was a dark period for a bit.
And as the next series of months went on of trying without success, I began to wonder if it would happen. Just as I began making appointments with fertility specialists, I became pregnant again.
Today I am in my second trimester and hopeful for a healthy baby. He’s a boy and we are over the moon thrilled. Although each twinge of a cramp or approaching ultrasound appointment brings on a great wave of panic, fear and anxiety that I did not feel with my first child, I am truly grateful for our rainbow baby.
And I can’t help but wonder, how many of my friends have rainbow babies of their own? I’m a rainbow baby myself. I’m open about this because if you talk about it, you learn that you are far from alone.