Parents, you’ve got questions, we’ve got answers.

Or just as likely, we’ve got questions and you’ve got answers.

Challenge: Open Discussion

Losing part of the rainbow

Vote up!
Share on Facebook Share on Twitter Email this article

When I first found out I was pregnant with this little girl, I was scared.

The instant feelings of elation and joy didn’t come because I was worried.

I was worried when I went to find a heartbeat, it wouldn’t be there. I wanted so badly there to be a heartbeat, something the baby before didn’t have.


Week eight had arrived.

I had prayed for understanding no matter what. If there’s a baby, I will be okay. If there’s not a heartbeat, I will be okay. I gave it to God, at least I said that in my head.

I’m giving it to God. I’m giving it to God.

My mantra as I walked it.

I laid down simultaneously expecting a heartbeat and not expecting one.

As the ultrasound image popped up, I caught my eyes furiously scanning the screen for any resemblance of a heartbeat.

I couldn’t see anything, so I moved my eyes to my OB hoping to read her expression.

Her poker face was solid.

She leaned to the machine and turned the volume on.

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

There it was. A strong, healthy heartbeat.

‘Oh, thank the Lord,’ I said in my mind as tears welled up in my eyes.

Then, we spotted something else.

Another amniotic sac.

A spot for baby B.

No heartbeat. No life in amniotic sac 2. No baby b.

I had prepared my mind, at least I thought, for either a heartbeat or not a heartbeat.

I had not prepared for both.

Baby B, my doctor estimated, hadn’t made it past week 6.

My mind wondered, could I have ever seen its heart beat? If only I would have scheduled this appointment earlier, but then again - who schedules an appointment that early?

And then there was the baby. There was a heartbeat.

How could I feel sad, when the rainbow WAS there?

How could I cry about what we lost, when we gained so much?

Sometimes the clouds are dark, the rain is falling - and yet a rainbow appears.

I think it’s so important to FOCUS ON THE RAINBOW. Focus on what we have, focus on the gratitude.

But that doesn’t mean you can’t mourn. GIVE yourself room to grieve, to feel, to have a bad day. It is okay to have these bad feelings in a storm. Have them, accept them. Don’t judge them.

But in the storm - keep your eyes open - for the rainbow

This was first posted on Instagram. Check it out for more like this.

If you like this post - check out this, how my miscarriage changed my perspective about my boys.

You might also appreciate this podcast episode with Stacey Skrysak about Infertility, Child Loss and Understanding Grief.

Related video:

This post comes from the TODAY Parenting Team community, where all members are welcome to post and discuss parenting solutions. Learn more and join us! Because we're all in this together.