The experience of a rainbow pregnancy—conceiving after a loss—often doesn’t fit the ideal image of joyous celebrations. Instead, it can be filled with late-night hospital visits, overwhelming fear, and quiet tears.
Should We Try Again?
After our daughter Mia was stillborn, my partner and I took time to reflect on whether we wanted to conceive again. We had two wonderful daughters, but the loss of our third child left us heartbroken. The decision to pursue another pregnancy was not an easy one.
We were acutely aware that this pregnancy would be different; anxiety would loom over us like a dark cloud, fueled by the haunting fear of losing another child. I underestimated how deeply that fear would settle in.
In the early stages of my pregnancy, I managed to stay cautiously optimistic. However, as the months passed, I found myself spiraling into a whirlwind of anxiety. Reaching the eight-month mark—the same gestation at which Mia had died—was particularly overwhelming. The fear swallowed me whole, feeding into my anxieties. As my baby began to feel more real, the dread of losing this child surged. Doubts swirled in my mind: “Is my body capable? Babies can die unexpectedly; it happened to us before, and it could happen again.”
Just Promise Me the Baby Will Be Okay
In truth, I didn’t want to endure pregnancy again; I just yearned for the moment I could hold my baby. I had learned painfully that there were no guarantees. Each day felt like a race against time, and as the pregnancy progressed, I longed for it to be over.
Don’t get me wrong; there were moments of joy and love for the life growing inside me, but that fear cast a long shadow over every experience. This was not a journey filled with baby showers or nursery preparations. Instead, it consisted of midnight calls to the maternity ward, frequent ECGs, trips to the hospital, and tearful conversations with midwives about how I could possibly endure until my due date.
Every night, I wrestled with the fear of not waking up to a healthy baby. Once I passed the gestational age at which Mia died, I felt like I was borrowing time.
The Burden of Expectation
I grew weary of hearing, “It can’t happen again.” By this point, I understood too well—though rare, it was still a possibility. I often forced a smile when someone said, “You must be so happy.” I was happy, but fear loomed too large for me to fully embrace that happiness.
“You deserve this after all you’ve been through,” they would say, and I wished I could shake them for their naiveté. Bad things happen to good people. And when someone said, “You can relax now,” I could do anything but.
We were fortunate. Our son, Oliver, was born healthy. I was induced at 35 weeks due to the stress of my pregnancy. In the weeks leading up to the induction, I had been visiting the doctor every couple of days, often joking that these were my “mental health” appointments—yet they were exactly that.
With my partner working away and two kids to care for, the stress accumulated rapidly. My doctor and I decided on an induction, and I felt a mix of relief and guilt. I was grateful to have an end date, but I felt shattered for not being able to wait until my due date for the best possible outcome for Oliver.
Navigating Grief and Joy
Even after Oliver’s birth, it was a challenge to separate my grief for Mia from the joy of having my son. I loved Oliver as fiercely as I loved Mia, but guilt weighed heavily on my heart. Oliver came early because my anxiety had reached a breaking point. I felt guilty that my body had failed to keep Mia alive while it successfully carried Oliver to term.
Most importantly, we understood that Oliver was not a replacement for Mia.
For those who have experienced loss and are considering pregnancy again, it’s essential to recognize that these feelings are normal. My advice is to take things one day at a time, prioritize self-care, communicate openly with loved ones and healthcare providers, cherish the little moments, embrace the calm when it arrives, and keep moving forward—you’ve already shown incredible strength.
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Summary:
The experience of a rainbow pregnancy is layered with anxiety, fear, and guilt, but it also carries the potential for joy and love. Those who have faced loss should know that their feelings are valid and that it’s crucial to seek support during this journey.