Last year I wrote this blog post about sunshine, storms and rainbows.
A year later my thinking has shifted. Rory wasn’t a storm and neither was Henry. Storms are violent, scary, and destructive, my boys weren’t that, how can an innocent baby cause all that? My reaction to their arrival and quick departure was stormy and destructive but that was all down to me and not them.
Henry should have been our rainbow, our full stop, our happy ever after, our new chapter but it didn’t work out that way. Rainbow babies will always be hard, partly because of the language around them as it doesn’t sit well with me. I can’t change the language but that doesn’t mean I can’t challenge it.
On rainbows, I have realised that perhaps I am my own rainbow, my own happy ending and my own new chapter. I don’t know where this year will take me but I’m excited to be here.
…to describe children in the loss world.
So, I’m scrolling through Instagram and I’ve just read a really emotive post by a friend about Rainbow babies (these are the holy grail in the loss world – a living baby after loss). I scroll further down and come across this from #mamaacademy:
My blood is boiling, Rory and Henry were not a bloody storm, yes they nearly broke me but this sort of language implies that as we don’t have a rainbow baby we must still be living in a storm – this is not the case. It is absolutely possible to be happy after you have lost a baby and you don’t need a holy grail baby to help with the process. Some people have the strength and awesomeness to find their own happy ending. I do not live in a storm.
I posted this reply:
I await their reply.
The loss world needs to address how we label children and what the labels mean. Not everyone sees their baby as a storm, not everyone gets a rainbow. It’s short-sighted, it’s isolating, it’s offensive.