The other day we had a thunderstorm. Afterwards, a double rainbow stretched across the sky. One was much brighter while the other was barely visible.

Most women who have lost a baby or experienced a miscarriage have heard of rainbow babies.

These are babies that are born after a loss. Seeing the double rainbow made me think about this:

What if after a loss, there is no chance of experiencing another rainbow? How do you let go of the idea of experiencing a rainbow?

I have been on both ends of the spectrum. In February 2010, I experienced the loss of my baby daughter, Valerie, at twenty-one weeks. I was of course, devastated by the loss, but my determination to try for another baby was unwavering.

I was very nervous about trying again but we got pregnant and had my son, in June of 2010, thankfully without complications. He was born healthy but not without the constant worry of something going wrong throughout the pregnancy.

I felt so blessed and relieved once he was here.

Over the next few years, I was determined to try for one more baby. This was it. This was going to complete our family. In April of 2016, I became pregnant again. I was always aware that there would be complications, never forgetting all that had gone wrong with Valerie.

Things were going relatively smoothly (except for morning sickness) until about fourteen weeks into the pregnancy when I experienced complications that were similar to what I had gone through with Valerie. I was hopeful that things would not be a repeat of what had occurred. S

adly, a week later after being admitted into the hospital I miscarried my son Daniel.

Since then, I have had to reset my grief button, so to speak, and start all over again on the grieving process. Most people (at least those who have not gone through a pregnancy loss) might be shocked or surprised to know that the need to try for another baby is still incredibly strong.

I would love to experience a successful pregnancy for my one final time and hope for the best. Hope for that rainbow.

There is just one problem — the thought of something going wrong. My husband does not want to put me through the agony of a loss again, nor would it be any easier if I did try for another baby.  Constant stress and worry would be unavoidable.

It has been so hard for me to accept the possibility that I will not be having my final rainbow. I cannot seem to let go of that dream.

How do I go on?

Most people would say, be happy with my two children at home, and enjoy the things in life that I do have. That is all that I try to do with my life these days. Yet I just cannot help but wish for that one child that I will never get to hold again.

The thought that I will never experience the joy of holding another baby that came from my body in my arms again is agony for me.

I will always mourn my two angels that were quickly here and gone in a minute. I have weathered two storms and seen one sweet beautiful rainbow. That fading rainbow seems to be a reminder that my own chances have faded.

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    Kathleen Berg

    Kathleen Berg

    Kathleen Berg is from Saint John, Indiana. She is a wife to husband, Ken, and mother to two children at home, Elanor and Eric, and her two angel babies, Valerie and Daniel. After losing Valerie in 2010 due to subchorionic hemorrhage during her 21st week of pregnancy, writing poems and journaling helped Kathleen cope with her loss. In 2016, Daniel was born unexpectedly during her 15th week of pregnancy also due to a subchorionic hemorrhage. Through her writing, Kathleen wants to give hope to others who feel alone in their grief journey.

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