Welcoming our rainbow baby

rainbow baby

He’s here, he’s perfect and parts of me still can’t completely believe it. 

 

Despite having thought about him and dreamed of him for the better part of two years it feels surreal to finally have him in my arms.

 

The last two years now feel hazy. Like I know I lived it but I’m not 100% sure how I survived it.  Almost like I have to ask myself ‘did that really happen?

 

And how did I even get through that?

 

I expected to break down emotionally when I gave birth to him. Surprisingly I didn’t. Of course it was the emotional roller coaster that birth usually is, but that moment where I picked him up and brought him to my chest was the same happy, crazy, amazing moment that it was with my two boys.

 

I was just in awe of this little person who felt like he came from no where (not literally of course, I bloody well FELT where he came from) was now in my arms.

 

It wasn’t until after that my emotions of the three who came before him came rushing in to remind me exactly how miraculous this moment really was. 

 

 

Out of the blue the other night Eamon asked me how many babies did I have that weren’t born (on day 4 no less – notoriously known for one of the most emotional days postpartum)

 

I was feeding Luca at the time and just looked down at him and burst into tears. 

 

He knew about Orion of course, but I’d never directly spoken about our other two losses. He knew of course, both boys have this strange psychic ability to know when I’m pregnant. Just days after I would have been pregnant with Luca, Rory put his hand on my belly and said ‘baby’ and Eamon randomly came out with a statement like ‘Mum I just had this thought that you had a baby in your belly’ laughed and then walked off.

 

I didn’t know of course yet, it was literally only days after he would have been conceived and no pregnancy test in the world would show that up, but I also knew, you know? 

 

Anyway, so I hadn’t outwardly spoken to Eamon about the two losses after Orion but I have no doubt he felt them and I know from Andrew that he had at one point asked ‘when will Mummy stop being sad and sick all the time?’ (At which point my heart broke into a thousand more shattered pieces)

 

So it was strange for him to be asking about these babies now, but I guess probably a long overdue conversation that I should have had with him. 

 

‘What do you mean?’ I asked first – because sometimes I interpret his questions differently than what he is really asking and give him too much information.

 

‘Like how many babies did you have before  Luca that weren’t born like Rory and I?’ 

 

Yep no misinterpreting there.

 

‘Three’ I croaked trying to hold back tears. 

 

Rory thought about this for a while and piped in with ‘but where are they now?’

 

At that point the tears fell. 

 

Where are they? I don’t know how to answer that?

 

No where?

 

Everywhere?

 

With me always. 

 

Mum jumped in to answer them while I cried hot happy sad tears onto the head of my ‘rainbow’ baby. 

 

To be honest I’ve never really connected with the whole ‘rainbow baby’ concept. I get it sure, but for me losing babies doesn’t just make the baby born after loss extra special, it makes those born at all total bloody miracles. I feel like I appreciate my boys so much more because of the losses and with Luca I just feel so so lucky that I get to experience all of his stages with that same lucid awareness of how magic it all is. 

 

So despite the fact that day 2 and 3 were as incredibly hard as they usually are (it hurt to sit, my nipples were on fire from his still dodgy latch, I hadn’t slept in days and he wanted to feed round the clock because my milk hadn’t come in yet ) I was also incredibly aware of how amazing these hard bits are too and I felt grateful for having them to experience at all. (And yes I can feel gratitude and still also grumble ‘go the f to sleep’ under my breath in the dark of the night).

 

It’s 4am as I type this. Luca is asleep on my chest after sleeping for four hours, which after days of zero sleep feels like all I need. He is 6 days old today (although will likely be many more by the time I hit publish). 

 

I feel grateful and tired, delighted in his every move yet frustrated when he cries for yet another feed. I am extended again beyond what even feels possible when three little people need me for something all at once and yet also completely content with it all. 

 

It’s all the feelings, all at once, one after the other. 

 

It’s everything. 

 

It’s him.

 

Welcome to our world Luca Riley. 

 

 

Want to hear how our birth story went? Watch the video below.

 

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