waiting for a rainbow

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I really hesitated about sharing this, in fact I had kind of decided not to.

But a sister reminded me that our trials are not something we should hide because they are a part of us, and to a certain extent they shape our lives. It reminded me how grateful I was that I shared our last miscarriages in a public way, grateful for the choice I made to be vulnerable and the power that came from that. Grateful to write it all out and clear my head.

Lastly I decided to share because time and time again I have been grateful when others have shared their losses and I hope that if you’ve ever gone through this or if you ever do someday, one little piece of our experience will help you in someway.


We lost another baby.

I’ve had miscarriages before, but I think this was the hardest. We’d made it to the 8 week mark, we’d finally put our fears to rest and really begun to feel excitement.  The thing about expecting a baby is it’s impossible not to make plans. As soon as you see that positive test you can’t help but map out the next 9 months.  Writing weeks on the calendar, reading about baby’s growth progress every Friday, figuring out what month the anatomy scan will be, deciding whether or not to find out gender, thinking about a hundred milestones culminating in the beautiful day we get to meet this perfect spirit we created in love.

Then, without any warning, a thousand daydreams are gone.

The day the bleeding started it was raining. I felt as though God was weeping with me, that He was right there, feeling my pain and willing to walk with me through whatever the coming days held. All day I searched the skies for a rainbow, for a heavenly sign that things would work out. But I didn’t see one. After continual bleeding, blood tests and an ultrasound it was confirmed that I had indeed miscarried.

A week later it was raining again. This time, as the rain slowed and the sun began to peek through the clouds, not one but two rainbows were painted across the sky.  Our rainbow may not be here right away, but I can’t help but believe it’s coming, in God’s timing.

Soon after finding out I was pregnant, we shared the news with the kids. Luke didn’t understand too much, but Madeline was beaming with excitement. You may recall she’s been wanting a baby for quite some time.  Each week we read through the baby’s growth updates together. She was fascinated by this tiny life growing inside me and it was one of her favorite topics to discuss. When we originally told her we knew that this loss was a possibility, but we felt really strongly that she needed to be included.

Almost as much as it hurt my heart to lose this baby, it hurt my heart to break hers. I put it off for days. We weren’t sure how she’d take the news, but when she immediately broke down into tears it wasn’t a surprise. She wanted this little baby with all her heart. It was natural for her to feel such overwhelming sadness.  In a few short moments I could see different emotions flashing across her face. Shock, disbelief, sadness, fear, anger and despair. All feelings I knew personally from recent experience. As her rollercoaster of emotions and questions slowed and she calmed down, she paused and was quiet for a few moments.  Then this sweet daughter of mine looked me in the eyes and told me she knew it would be okay, because of Jesus.

Suddenly I knew why we had told her. I knew that this was a chance for her to know and experience the Atonement first hand. Even as a little girl, just four years old, she has a simple but powerful understanding of our Savior’s life and love for us.  I can’t think of a better gift to give my children than to let them see their parents walk through sorrow and turn to Christ for solace. I hope they always remember that even in the storms of life, we’ve chosen to seek light.

The rainbow analogy has come to be a powerful gift for us.  Madeline was especially grateful to hear that both she and Luke were rainbow babies and that we will have another rainbow in our family someday.

It’s been almost a month now. The pain, while dimmed, is still there. But so is hope and so is peace.

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  • Emily

    Hugs Sarah. We are kind of in the same boat. I haven’t lost any but we haven’t been able to get pregnant and it’s been over a year. It is nice to know that so many others experience it.ReplyCancel

  • Amber

    Not sure if you remember me, but I was in your freshman ward. I love this, such a beautiful message! My heart goes out to you. My husband and I lost our first at 10 weeks. That was 3 months ago, but it’s still a struggle. It’s such a comfort to read other people’s experiences and hear their thoughts. Your sweet testimony strengthens mine. Thank you!ReplyCancel

  • […] and peace to the rollercoaster of emotions, but it was still very much a rollercoaster.  After our third miscarriage last summer I couldn’t help but put distance between myself and this baby. I wanted so much […]ReplyCancel

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