Earlier this summer, Gideon and I headed up to Minnesota with my mom and sisters. On one of our last nights there, we were sitting around the kitchen table with family playing cards. The rotary phone rang. It was my cousin who was driving nearby and wanted us to know there was a huge rainbow outside. It had rained pretty hard earlier in the evening. We dropped the game and all ran outside. And there it was. The most vibrant rainbow I had ever seen in my life. It ran across the entire sky.
As I stood there, I felt the Lord whispering to me, it's for you. This is my promise for you. I was so struck by this feeling in this moment and I knew without a doubt He was speaking to me. I couldn't shake it, but I also didn't want to share it because I was afraid it would just be me making plans for myself again. So, I tucked that moment away, not realizing it would mean so much just five days later.
July 1st. The day after writing this. I woke up with a feeling that I should take a test. I hadn't given it much thought, but decided to go ahead and get it over with. I placed it on the counter with zero expectations in the hopes that my heart wouldn't break like it did every time. I glanced down. No way, there are two lines. Wait...there are TWO lines. I originally had planned on not telling Taylor even in the off-chance that it was positive. I was so tired of seeing the hurt in his eyes when it didn't work out. After two miscarriages, you begin to doubt even the test itself. But, the Lord propelled me into the living room and I held the test up in disbelief. I sat in his lap as he prayed and begged Him to let this baby be ours. Please Lord, let us have this one.
I had heard the term "rainbow baby," baby born after infant loss or miscarriage, a few times, but had never given it much thought. Now, it was an undeniable part of our story. This is my promise for you. This is your rainbow baby.
The following weeks brought cravings and nausea, but also Satan's attempts to play on my fears and anxieties. This will never be yours. I tried to shut it out as much as possible and ran to Scripture when it felt overwhelming. He worked hard, even lacing my dreams with the pain of loss and the inevitability that it would happen again. I cried out to the Lord, Please let this be mine.
The week leading up to my eight week ultrasound was hard. Taylor was gone and I was hit with the fear that I would not hear good news. My mom had decided to come down and I thought about telling her not to because I didn't want anyone to be there when they told me it wasn't so. I didn't and couldn't open up to anyone about these feelings. I was constantly waiting for signs of loss every time I went to the bathroom, but I kept it all inside.
I approached my appointment with excitement but also a sense of disquiet. It took a good fifteen minutes to answer questions and get ready for the ultrasound. The technician began and I heard her say right away, there's your baby. She hit some buttons and the sound of the heartbeat filled the room. Woosh, woosh, woosh, woosh. I cried. It was the most beautiful thing I have ever heard in my life. Tears spilled down my cheeks as I watched the beating of the heart on the screen and was in awe that this baby was mine. No amount of fear, anxiety, or bad dreams could diminish this moment. The Lord whispered again, this is my promise for you.
Rain has been a prevalent theme throughout this experience. I saw the rain as oppressive and overwhelming and often screamed to the Lord that I was drowning and it seemed he didn't care. I struggled to stay surfaced, but time after time was swept underneath the current.
I remember sitting in the waiting room the week after my second miscarriage. It was raining which I thought was so fitting. And as round bellies and new babies were called back one by one, I sat and watched the rain streak down the windows and allowed the tears to run. I'm drowning, Lord. Don't you see that?
What I failed to see is that rain is necessary. Rain brings regrowth and renewal that wouldn't be possible without it's presence. It doesn't make the rain less annoying or less difficult to stand in. Throughout this past year, I have made no secret about my anger with the situation. I railed at Him so many times, but the key there is that I continued to talk to Him. It may have been to say, I don't get it, or I'm angry, but the great thing is He can handle that. The thing to not miss is that He is in the rain.
So, as the rain continually falls and your head starts to slip under, just remember that with a rainbow in the sky, He redeemed the flood.
"Come, let us return to the Lord. He has torn us to pieces, but he will heal us; he has injured us, but he will bind our wounds. After two days, he will revive us; on the third day he will restore us, that we may live in his presence. Let us acknowledge him. As surely as the sun rises, he will appear; he will come to us like the rain." -Hosea 6: 1-3