How to Decide to Grow Your Family After Loss | Why We Didn’t Chase a Rainbow

by Renee Emerson

“I’m so sorry; I just did not expect it to go this way.” The MFM doctor hangs his head, and rests his hand on my shoulder. My husband starts to ask questions, to cry, to hold me.

All I can think at this moment is, “I did.”

Now our rainbow baby, Boaz, whose heart stopped beating at 19 weeks, 5 days, is buried next to his brother Shepherd, whose heart stopped beating at the exact same gestation. Boaz was due on Christmas day, a gift after a long and difficult year of loss.

Every day of my pregnancy with Boaz, I prayed that God would not let him die. Every twinge or ache or imagined pain, I prayed and prayed that God would preserve Boaz in my womb, that he would allow us to bring him home alive. So when the ultrasound tech abruptly left the room, after hovering her wand above the heart for a moment, I was surprised and wasn’t at the same time.

Rainbow babies aren’t supposed to die. When a mom who has lost multiple babies steps out on faith and trust to try once more, she is supposed to bring that baby home, right? And with that baby, bring home all that healing, blessing, redemption that she’s longing for.

Redemption, swaddled up in a muslin blanket.

We buried our baby next to his brother and his sister who died in infancy. I kept his black-ink footprints, his ultrasounds, the pregnancy tests that I took far too many of, so worried he would be gone before I knew it.

After the loss of our rainbow, much prayer and fasting and late-night discussions, my husband and I decided not to try again. Deciding to grow—or not grow—a family is a very personal decision, but if you find yourself in that position, here are a few things that we did as we wrestled through this crossroads:

We prayed and fasted. In 2 Kings, King Jehosephat faces an enemy army; and though he has prepared his army the best that he could, he drops everything that he is doing and prays to the Lord, “We don’t know what to do, but our eyes are on you.” The nation, men, women and children, all join him in prayer and fasting, and the Lord answered by giving them the victory. We prayed and fasted, believing that God would give us the wisdom and discernment to make the right choice for our family.
We considered the logistics. We had been ready to welcome another child into our home—twice—within that year, so we had already thought through the need for a bigger vehicle, where the baby would sleep, how we would afford another mouth to feed, the age gaps with our living children.
We sought wise counsel. We both sought out a few close friends we could confide in. While ultimately it was our decision to make, it was helpful to have someone with a godly outside perspective weigh in.
We searched our hearts. We took time to think through if our hearts could bear the stress and pain of another loss. Though the doctors did find a reason for my losses, my diagnosis did not promise a 100% risk free pregnancy, because no pregnancy is risk free, as a mom who has lost a baby very well knows.

After weighing everything and praying, we decided not to pursue our “rainbow baby.” And this can be just as much an act of faith and bravery as choosing to get pregnant again. In choosing not to chase after a rainbow, I’m choosing to trust God to bring healing to my heart in another way. God placed the rainbow in the sky as a promise after the flood, that He would never bring that judgment on the world again. The world would repopulate and heal.

I don’t know what healing will look like for us. Maybe it will just take time, and remembering the babies we lost, and loving the children we do have here on earth.

I know that this is true: even though my rainbow baby did not come home with me on Christmas, even if I never have the fulfillment of mothering another baby here on earth, I have not missed out on God’s promised redemption. A baby has already been born many, many years ago, that was sent here for my blessing, healing, and redemption, and I can rest in his loving plan for my life.

Meet the Author: renee emerson

Renee Emerson is a homeschooling mom of seven (five on earth, two in heaven), and the author of Church Ladies (forthcoming from Fernwood Press, 2022), Threshing Floor (Jacar Press, 2016), and Keeping Me Still (Winter Goose Publishing, 2014). She adjunct teaches online for Indiana Wesleyan University, and blogs about poetry, grief, and motherhood at www.reneeemerson.com.

Connect with Renee: @i_heart_kit