help this wound heal<\/strong> rather than trying to forget, is important.<\/p>\nTestimonials from parents of rainbow babies<\/h2>\n
May offers the stories of two mothers of rainbow babies who generously agreed to open up. In our view, stories shared on this topic are precious because they can help people experiencing perinatal loss feel less alone. Please note, this reading can stir up strong feelings\u2014read these stories only if it feels like the right time for you.<\/p>\n
Marie, a mother of three, delivered a star baby vaginally at 24 weeks\u2019 gestation<\/strong>; she tells her whole story in a narrative filled with strength and resilience:<\/p>\n\u201c My name is Marie, and I am a mom three times over: to my eldest, Ga\u00e9tan; to a little star, Gabriel; and to Valentine, my rainbow baby.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m a pediatric nurse and worked for sixteen years in neonatal intensive care with premature babies. That\u2019s why, when I myself was confronted with perinatal loss, I suddenly found myself \u2018on the other side of the gown\u2019<\/strong>.<\/p>\nI supported parents through the process and then the withdrawal of care for their children; I helped them navigate the challenging work of grief because I faced it regularly in my profession and was one of the go-to people in the unit for this.<\/p>\n
Living it made me tip to the other side, as a mother, while still keeping my identity as a caregiver.<\/p>\n
I became a mother for the first time in 2010, after more than two years of waiting.
\nEverything went very well, although because of my profession I remained very vigilant about all possible risks at each stage\u2026 Occupational hazard\u2026<\/p>\n
We decided to wait a bit before having a second child, and we were right, because I became pregnant very quickly<\/strong> with the second pregnancy, which made us happy and reassured.<\/p>\nI felt calm but still stayed vigilant about follow-up.
\nDuring the second ultrasound, at twenty-two weeks, the ground fell out from under us when we discovered a brain malformation<\/strong> that left no doubt about the need for a medical termination of pregnancy.<\/p>\nSo I delivered vaginally, in April 2013, at 24 weeks\u2019 gestation, an adorable little boy weighing less than 800 grams, whom we chose to name Gabriel<\/strong> to help him take flight\u2026<\/p>\nI remember living it step by step. Very professionally for the practical side, but with much love and sharing with my partner. I knew what was going to happen, what we had to choose, to prepare what mattered to us, to make space for him in our lives, even if his time in our arms was brief.<\/p>\n
I remember telling myself, like a mantra, this birth\u2014it will make you stronger<\/strong>; you\u2019ll know yourself even better afterward, and it will help you support your next baby to bring them into life. And I thought this pain could transform and later become a strength to go back and support parents facing this in my unit.<\/p>\nIt so happened that during my pregnancy, my two sisters-in-law were also pregnant at the same time as me, with due dates only a few weeks apart. When my nephews were born, it was very, very hard to live through. An upheaval, an intense emotional rift. I was so happy to become an aunt, to meet those babies (they were the first children for our brothers), but I was overwhelmed by the infinite sadness and the deep pain that my baby wasn\u2019t there too\u2026<\/p>\n
What we\u2019re very proud of, my partner and I, is how we managed to support our \u2018big kid\u2019<\/strong> (who wasn\u2019t yet three) through this family grief, and how we got through it together, as a couple. We managed to support one another, to listen, to make our way together but also each in our own way. I think the fact that I\u2019m a caregiver and knew exactly what would happen with this medical termination helped me. I had resources to support us. I knew that in a couple, we wouldn\u2019t necessarily have the same timeline or the same feelings in our grief. Even though it was very hard, we\u2019re used to talking daily about our needs, to putting our emotions into words, and that\u2019s what helped us. Of course, we inevitably made mistakes, doing the best we could at times, but we\u2019re happy and at peace, I think, with how we\u2019ve woven this baby into our family story.<\/p>\nThere were no secrets for our little two-and-a-half-year-old boy. We used simple, accurate words<\/strong>, answered his many questions every time he had them (and still do to this day). Little Gabriel found a just place within the family\u2014his own, in his uniqueness.<\/p>\nAfter our baby\u2019s death, I knew I wanted to become pregnant again, but taking the necessary time for it to go well and for us to be ready to welcome this new child properly. This third pregnancy also arrived very quickly once we tried\u2014one year after the previous one. This time we wanted to know the baby\u2019s sex<\/strong>, unlike the other pregnancies, because I needed to project myself, to speak to this baby knowing who they would be, and to reassure myself that I was clearly distinguishing them from my previous baby. I was happy to learn that it was a little girl<\/strong>. At least it was clear: a new pregnancy, a new story, another baby. I was also very happy about my baby\u2019s sex because we would have \u2018one of each,\u2019 but I felt guilty about rejoicing in that, with regard to Gabriel who couldn\u2019t live.<\/p>\nI didn\u2019t experience this pregnancy as more stressful or harder than the others. I savored it and still loved being pregnant. I was followed more closely<\/strong>; we were well supported, and just as we had supported my eldest by explaining everything that was happening, I decided that the baby who had died should not be \u2018a burden\u2019 for our little girl who was going to be born. So we talked to her very early while she was in my belly, because I still had moments of stress, and I\u2019d tell her, \u201cDon\u2019t worry, it\u2019s not your fault<\/strong>. You should know that before you, there was a baby here who couldn\u2019t live. But for you, everything will go well, and we can\u2019t wait to meet you.\u201d I was supported by a psychologist I already knew\u2014we had done that for the two previous pregnancies\u2014but above all, we did haptonomy again, like before. It really helped us welcome this little girl in the best conditions.<\/p>\nThe birth of this little rainbow baby was amazing because it was exactly the one I wanted. For a first birth, you don\u2019t know what you\u2019re heading into; you don\u2019t know the pain you\u2019ll feel, how you\u2019ll cope, you\u2019re discovering your body. So for this third birth, I went in \u2018relaxed.\u2019 My water broke<\/strong> in the morning, and I took my time getting ready before leaving. Once at the hospital, we were welcomed wonderfully by teams where several caregivers knew my story (I gave birth where I worked). I gave birth without an epidural, in an incredible moment shared 200% with my partner, eyes locked on his and his hand holding mine. I felt completely in charge of this birth. The midwife arrived at the last minute to catch our baby and help her be born. I felt so strong! I felt that surge of life<\/strong>, that power of a woman\u2019s body bringing a child into the world. I told myself, \u2018In the end, life made us go through a terrible ordeal, but the scars from that experience accompanied me to make this birth the wonderful moment it was.\u2019<\/p>\nThis rainbow baby is now a nine-year-old girl named Valentine, and she\u2019s doing great! Since she was born, she\u2019s always had her feet firmly on the ground. She loves to clown around; she\u2019s a little ray of sunshine<\/strong>. She knows her story and her brothers\u2019, and we talk about it whenever she feels the need, very serenely. Each child has their own tree in the garden. I often ask myself: \u2018Is she like this because she felt she had to be very alive?\u2019 \u2018Is that just my interpretation? Would she have been like this anyway?\u2019 We don\u2019t really know, and I think the most important thing is to know how to let go<\/strong> sometimes and not overthink it. In any case, not more than necessary.<\/p>\nThe months after birth can also sometimes be a bit difficult even when everything is going well for the baby. There can be things that still need support\u2014resurgences from the previous pregnancy and the grief\u2014and this can feed into or foster postpartum depression. I myself lived through a few months of anxiety and deep sadness at times, and it\u2019s essential to know this can happen and to talk to someone so you don\u2019t stay alone with it. You have to be kind to yourself<\/strong> and not put pressure on yourself about what you feel by saying \u2018I shouldn\u2019t be doing this\u2019 or \u2018I should feel that\u2019 or \u2018this isn\u2019t normal.\u2019<\/p>\nThe advice that really helped me after Gabriel\u2019s birth was: \u2018Don\u2019t hide your pain<\/strong>; don\u2019t try to sweep it under the rug, because one day it will come back with incredible force. Accept looking it in the face, get help if it\u2019s too hard to live through alone, and walk with it so it can heal gently, over time.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\nJulie, also a mother of three, shares her story with great clarity and honesty:<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m Julie, I\u2019m 42, married, and mom to three big boys born in 2009, 2012, and 2016 (rainbow baby). In December 2014, we lost a little girl who was born without life due to multi-organ failure discovered during my pregnancy.<\/p>\n
For us, the nightmare began from the very first ultrasound<\/strong>, and the rest of my pregnancy was punctuated by tests, each more invasive than the last. All that suffering waiting for a diagnosis, only to be told at seven months of intrauterine life that she wouldn\u2019t be viable and that her life had to be ended before birth. What she had wasn\u2019t known to any OB-GYN or obstetric specialist\u2014it was \u2018bad luck,\u2019 as they say.<\/p>\nTha\u00efs was born on December 16, 2014, \u2018without life.\u2019 There is nothing worse than giving birth to a dead baby. No one can imagine it without having lived it. Our loved ones couldn\u2019t understand<\/strong> what we were going through. The comments from family and friends, full of good intentions, made us crazy and sad. To overcome this ordeal, we also saw a psychologist.<\/p>\nWe climbed back up thanks to our children<\/strong>, who left us no choice but to keep hope in life. We started trying for a baby again six months later.<\/p>\nI don\u2019t remember the emotions that accompanied the discovery of my fourth pregnancy. Maybe out of fear of suffering, even though I told myself that misfortune couldn\u2019t strike us twice in a row.<\/p>\n
We learned very quickly the sex of our child\u2014it was a boy\u2014so I naturally projected myself into an easy pregnancy<\/strong> without problems, like with the older ones. I don\u2019t remember feeling magic or euphoria. The days went by without me dwelling on my sensations or on my growing belly. My loved ones seemed more enthusiastic than I was; I couldn\u2019t bring myself to rejoice. I can\u2019t say I feared a new problem; each ultrasound didn\u2019t scare me. I was simply suffering from others\u2019 lack of understanding<\/strong> of what we\u2019d lived through, and from their failure to acknowledge our still-present pain.\u201d<\/p>\nGrief has no real end, and a part of a parent may remain in mourning for that child for a lifetime. But that doesn\u2019t mean they won\u2019t be able to shower the next child to be born with love.<\/p>\n
This text was translated from French by an artificial intelligence. The information, advice, and sources it contains comply with French standards and may therefore not apply to your situation. Make sure to complement this reading by visiting the May US\/UK app and consulting the healthcare professionals who are supporting you.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Have you ever heard of a \u201crainbow baby\u201d? When you first learn this term, it\u2019s hard to imagine that it refers to a tragic event in the past. May explains its meaning. What is a rainbow baby? A “rainbow baby” is a child born after perinatal loss. The baby who has passed away is often […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":15,"featured_media":11553,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[186,189],"tags":[167,182],"class_list":["post-26322","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-pregnancy","category-childbirth-en","tag-pregnancy-psychology","tag-loss-and-grief"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.may.app\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/26322","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.may.app\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.may.app\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.may.app\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/15"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.may.app\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=26322"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.may.app\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/26322\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":26325,"href":"https:\/\/www.may.app\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/26322\/revisions\/26325"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.may.app\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/11553"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.may.app\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=26322"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.may.app\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=26322"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.may.app\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=26322"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
![\"rainbow\"](\"https:\/\/www.may.app\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/11\/bebe-arc-en-ciel-min-1024x1024.png\" "\\"\\"")
<\/p>\n