Where are you Rainbow Baby?
Why won’t you come? I’m doing everything I did before. So why is it not working? Why is it taking so long?
I’m sorry I’m impatient. I know I have trouble waiting. I’m trying. I really am. But gosh, this is hard.
I’m wishing each month. I’m heartbroken each month. I’m tired of not seeing that line on that test. That line means so much. That stupid line.
I want my body to do what it is supposed to. I want to hold my beautiful belly when I’m lying in bed or sitting down in a crowded room. I want to have that glow. I want to feel you kick. I want to feel adequate. I hate feeling this way. I’m tired of feeling this way.
Most days I’m okay, but sometimes I feel this cloud.
I want you, Rainbow Baby. I crave your warmth. I need your fresh air. I need you to lighten my slightly shadowed lens.
I’m tired of feeling like my family isn’t complete. I had a plan. This wasn’t the plan. I feel like time is running out. And I’m tired of feeling guilty because I already have two beautiful children. Because I am so thankful for their tight hugs and big kisses. I know I am so very blessed. But still, I yearn for you.
I didn’t expect this to be so hard. I didn’t know grief was so unpredictable. A date. A place. A status update. Another pregnant belly in sight. Those beautiful bellies. The beautiful babies.
I’m tired of unexpectedly crying behind closed doors.
I want good news. I want to feel excited. I don’t want to feel a lump in my throat when my daughter asks for a baby of her own. I want to tell my kids, “We’re going to have a baby”! I want to see their eyes light up and for them to jump up and down and yell “Yay”! I want my son to proudly wear a “Big Brother” shirt for the first time.
I don’t want to wait. It’s so hard to wait. This waiting game sucks.
As a result I’m ready to be done. Done with the tests. Done with the tracking. Done with the monthly reminder of what is not growing inside of me.
I want you, Rainbow Baby. I need your light. Where are you? Why won’t you come? I am just here waiting…
