It is 6:10am and I have yet to sleep. I have had something on my mind... and light sensitivity or not, I feel the need to write about this. I will gladly endure a headache from my laptop's brightness in exchange for opening my heart a little bit more than I have before.
A few days ago, I came across a gorgeous picture of a newborn little one who was sleeping on a sunburst of fabric in numerous colors. I read a caption underneath the photo, which explained that this little girl is a "rainbow baby." Given that I have babies on the brain lately, I was surprised to hear of a term I had yet to come across in my baby-related research. Apparently, rainbow babies are those babies who are conceived after pregnancy loss or infant loss. Their presence is "rainbow colored" in nature because it represents the beauty and ache of joyful light emerging in the wake of a storm. A rainbow is precious in its own right... but it is also often all the more precious because it would not be unique in the same way had a storm not preceded its existence.
I am going to be brave and tell you that the Jellybean will be a rainbow baby. I hope you will understand that I don't actually want to talk about my "storm" because I have learned that it is healthier for me to grieve my loss privately. However, I also believe it is important to share the reality that the baby I hope to have relatively soon will be a rainbow baby, because this reality is impacting Project Jellybean significantly enough that it seems dishonest not to address it at all.
Pregnancy loss and infant loss affect so many women as individuals, couples and families that it is sometimes bewildering to me that it is not discussed more openly and frequently. However, it never takes me long to remember that I now hold on very tightly to my privacy in regards to this particular loss. In fact, I can count on my fingers and toes the number of individuals I have discussed this loss with in any sort of detail or with any true vulnerability.
One of the freeing, beautiful things about the concept of honoring little ones as rainbow babies is the idea that one can truly embrace the full joy of bringing a new life into the world while honoring the reality that a storm has sincerely influenced the arrival of that joy. One need not forget the pregnancies or little ones who came before... in fact, by proclaiming that a new little person is "rainbow" in nature, one honors the storm that helped to aid in its specific creation.
Just as every great love in my life has helped to shape the person I have become, so has every great loss. Similarly, both the profound love I already have for the Jellybean and my previous loss are inevitably shaping the approach I am taking to Project Jellybean. The other day, I found myself so excited about the prospect of a successful Project Jellybean that I almost threw up. The joy that this possibility brings me is absolutely overwhelming. It is entirely possible, especially given my present health challenges and temporary financial challenges, that I would not be nearly so joyful at the thought of navigating a pregnancy and becoming a mother again if my journey as a mother had not begun at 17 years of age and if I had not weathered terrible loss in between Miss Samantha and the Jellybean. Everything that I have been through has led me to this moment. And I choose to honor that fact rather than sweep it under the carpet.
And if I am being honest, even though I choose to grieve my loss privately, I have no interest in forgetting the deep love that I have known and lost. In September of 2015, the New York Times published a piece regarding a study that had been completed at a prestigious research center in Seattle. The study concludes that most mothers acquire new cells during every pregnancy. In a profoundly poetic way, the phenomenon of pregnancy-related microchimerism allows each pregnancy to leave a lasting physical presence within a woman's body. At this moment, some of Samantha's cells are almost certainly residing within my body, as are cells that originated during the storm. Hopefully, I will soon have rainbow cells within my body as well. And I will treasure the presence of all three of these visitors.
I could not be more excited to (God willing) have a rainbow baby. And rather than causing me to "push aside" the storm that helped to shape this moment, I find myself even more grateful and even more in love with what came before. Because in some strange way, that loss helped to lead me to Project Jellybean. And there is no other journey I would rather initiate more than Project Jellybean... aaaaannnnndddd a published book "baby" to match. *Wink!*
