“Is everything ok?”, Brad asked.
“No” said the sonographer. “It’s not”
Our first baby died before he entered the world, knowing only the peace and comfort of my womb. He arrived silently on a normal day in September after three days of labor; the sun shone bright and the waves crashed on.
Brad and I left the hospital, just him and I; the same way we arrived but with my tummy soft and squishy and our hearts empty and broken.
We sat on the beach just near our little home and we watched the world race by. It continued on, as if nothing had happened. As if our world hadn’t been ripped apart.
I wanted to scream at the people who walked past us, “don’t you know what just happened? What has just been lost?“.
Why us? Why us? Until I realised- why not us? We aren’t any different from those people, those parents. We had to keep chasing rainbows.
I now have everything I ever dreamed of, and more. There is no way to express my gratitude. But there are many that do not. Those still waiting for a baby to keep, those mourning the chance to ever “try again”.
I think of them and I send them all the love in the world and hope they find a rainbow, and if that hope has been taken away, I hope they find peace.