Double Rainbow

Dear Morris,

I haven't written in a while.  There is some news that I've wanted to share with you, but I haven't been ready to share it until now.

A few weeks after our NYC Christmas trip, I was driving to church one morning.  It was lightly raining out that morning, but the sun was brightly shinning.  As I drove, I began looking for a rainbow.  We were right in the middle of Operation Over the Rainbow, so that was on my mind, but I was also secretly hoping for a sign that I might be pregnant with our rainbow baby.  A rainbow baby is a baby conceived after a loss, bringing peace and hope - just like a rainbow appearing in the sky after a terrible storm.  Daddy and I had decided that after our struggle to conceive you and your stillbirth, that we would try to get pregnant on our own for a while before seeking any kind of treatment.  It took us such a long time to conceive you, so we weren't sure what to expect, but I was hopeful.

I didn't see a rainbow on my drive that morning.  When I got to church, I commented to Grami (without sharing why) that I had been disappointed not to see one.  Later that night, she sent me this text:

Three days later, Daddy and I found out we were pregnant.  Morris, you are a big brother!  Just typing that sentence makes me cry.  They are happy tears for new life, but they are also sad tears that you aren't here to share the excitement with us.

It just so happened that Daddy and I had planned to have some pictures taken the Saturday after we found out.  We had planned to pack away your nursery, and I wanted to capture it before we made changes to the room.  We asked the photographer to document the special time with a picture.

Our news doesn't end there though. About two weeks after our positive test, we went in for our confirmation ultrasound. I found myself seeing the very same midwife and ultrasound technician that were with me the morning we found out that you were gone.  When the technician and I saw each other for the first time, we hugged and began to cry.  We settled in for the ultrasound, and she scanned all around.  I held my breath, scared to death she was going to tell me that there was no sign of a baby.  

Instead, she said, "I see two sacs..." 

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"Well, let me take a closer look," she said.  "I see a baby in this sac, and I see a baby in this sac!"  

The tears started for both of us again.  Daddy had a huge grin on his face, but he didn't say a word.  When the technician left to tell the midwife the news, I asked Daddy what he was thinking.  "I had a feeling there were two in there!" he exclaimed. 

We shared the news with our parents and siblings almost immediately.  Since then, we've all talked about how God has been with us in the past year and in these first few months of pregnancy.  Friends at church have been praying for a "double blessing" for us since your death.  Grami sent me that picture of a double rainbow over NY just a few days before we found out we were pregnant.  Aunt Becca had a feeling that she should be praying for a second baby days before we knew there was a second baby. There have been friends who said the moment that we shared the news of our pregnancy with them, they just knew we were having twins. The other day, Grami reminded me of the double rainbow that appeared on the day we dedicated Morris Park last August...August is the same month the twins are likely to make their appearance. 

Morris Park Dedication - August 2015

Some days these things are such clear signs of God's presence in this pregnancy for me, and they provide me with reassurance.  Other days (probably most days if I'm honest) I'm scared to death by the possibility that we could lose these babies too. I find myself anxiously overthinking every twinge and symptom, too nervous to buy or plan for anything, and afraid to dream too much about bringing these babies home.  I know these are normal feelings for someone who has gone through a loss like we have, but it makes me sad that I can't feel the same excitement this time that I felt with you.

All these feelings have been part of the reason I've been waiting to share the news with you. I thought when I got pregnant this time that I would be ready to share the news with the world immediately.  I treasure all the moments that we got to celebrate your life with friends and family because those are the only moments and memories that we have of you.  I know deep down that sharing the news won't make something happen or keep something from happening, but the hardest news in the world to share was the news of your death. The thought of ever having to share news like that again breaks my heart. 

This morning, a friend reached out to me with a Facebook message to tell me that she had heard our happy news from a mutual friend.  This momma is currently laying in a hospital bed beside her sick and fevered toddler, hundreds of miles from home.  I'm sure she has a million things on her mind and her to-do list, but she took a few minutes at 5 AM to send me a note that her family was rejoicing with us over our happy news and that they were praying for us.  Her message reminded me of a bible verse that I read just two days ago during my morning reading:

"Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn." Romans 12:15

Everyone reading this letter has mourned with us since your death.  But now is a time for rejoicing and praising God!  We share our stories and lives with one another, the good and bad times, so that those around us can help us celebrate the happy moments and can lift us up in the difficult moments.  The more people who know about your siblings, the more people who can praise God along beside us. The more people who know, the more who can pray for God's peace for Daddy and I throughout this pregnancy, as well as for a healthy pregnancy, a healthy delivery, and most importantly, for healthy babies.  

No matter what happens, you are my firstborn. You hold such a special place in my heart, and you always will. Although we celebrate these two new lives and the hope and joy they bring to our family, we still grieve you.  I found a quote that sums it up perfectly:

"It is understood that the beauty of a rainbow does not negate the ravages of any storm. When a rainbow appears it does not mean that the storm never happened or that we are not still dealing with it's aftermath. It means that something beautiful and full of light has appeared in the midst of the darkness and clouds. Storm clouds may still hover, but the rainbow provides a counterbalance of color, energy and hope."

Love,

Mommy