Rainbow baby

Dear Analin,

Rainbow babies are hard.

We thought having a baby after your loss would help us heal. He did.

We knew being pregnant would be hard. It was one of the hardest things we'd ever done.

When he was born, I couldn't think about you. When he was born, it had to be about him, because if you were part of it, I don't think I could have taken care of him as well as I did.

Having your little brother helped us heal in knowing, physically, we are sound. Not one thing went wrong with his pregnancy despite the doctor's almost desperate search. There were tests and ultrasounds and NSTs galore and our doctor admitted the changes he'd been expecting hadn't come.

Your baby brother was induced at 38 weeks and 1 day. He's pretty perfect, though he had some trouble breathing and eating at the same time at first. I didn't want to stop holding him. I barely shared him with your dad or older brothers. He was mine. My rainbow baby.

My distraction.

It is hard, terrifying, and a massive highlight of how unfair stillborn loss is when you have a live baby. He was perfect. So were you. His pregnancy was normal. So was yours.

I am so very, incredibly grateful to have brought him home. I was up and walking around the delivery room with a smile. I had no problems getting him to nurse or letting him sleep. I was showered, dressed, and chatting away like there was no after-birth pain at all. Someone mentioned how good I looked, how happy we were.

Of course we were. We got to take home a baby. Do you understand? We got to TAKE HIM HOME.

That's a very specific contrast to your birth.

He was about 3 weeks old before I consciously thought about you again. I cried for a day. I held him and rocked him and screamed within my mind because I should have had this with you. You should be toddling around demanding my attention, demanding to hold the baby. Actions from a baby who never got to come home.

Rainbow babies are hard. They are a bittersweet coming that simultaneously heals and rips open wounds that may not have been as healed as we thought in the first place.

I wouldn't trade him for the world. I just wish his waking family was a little bigger.

Always missing you,

Mommy.