The day before I Delivered a Dead Baby, the day we found out Luke was gone, it rained for the first time in weeks. Stormed hard. We actually lost power at the house.
On the way to the hospital that night, as we were driving on the highway, my husband saw a rainbow.
As we approached the exit to the hospital, there was another rainbow directly above the exit.
I think I was kind of pissed or annoyed at the time. If the universe was trying to send me a sign that things were going to get better, a rainbow seemed like a small consolation.
When we got home from the hospital, I started looking for online support groups for women who’d suffered pregnancy or infant loss. I kept encountering the term “rainbow baby.” I didn’t know what that meant, so I looked it up.
From the Urban Dictionary:
A “rainbow baby” is a baby that is born following a miscarriage or still birth.
In the real world, a beautiful and bright rainbow follows a storm and gives hope of things getting better. The rainbow is more appreciated having just experienced the storm in comparison.
The storm (pregnancy loss) has already happened and nothing can change that experience. Storm-clouds might still be overhead as the family continue to cope with the loss, but something colourful and bright has emerged from the darkness and misery.
So, there’s that.
I know some people will look at this story and think the rainbows were just a random coincidence. I did too, at the time.
But how bleak would this universe be if it’s nothing but randomness? Who would really want to live in a world like that?
Like many, I’ve struggled with my beliefs for a long time. But this experience has pushed me in the direction of wanting to believe there’s more. Otherwise, I don’t see a way out of this darkness.
Faith is a choice. Today, I choose hope.