final thoughts before meeting our rainbow baby

There is so much I’ve wanted to continue to write and share about Callie’s progress and resources related to cerebral palsy, but I feel like what’s tugging at my heart to share right now is about baby boy and Mylah.

It’s been way longer than I intended since sharing any update. June and July have felt very overwhelming and nonstop. I think the combination of trying to keep up with all our weekly appointments (Callie has four therapies, I have my therapy apt, and there’s been a steady trickle of random follow ups almost every week this year) along with adding new baby ones weekly at the end of June (an ultrasound and an NST) plus getting bigger and less mobile/able with my pregnant belly and back pain. As well as all three of our grandmothers having unexpected health issues around the same time (continuing to pray for healing)- it’s all just been a lot.

I’ve also been increasingly more concerned with baby fears since surpassing the week I lost Mylah and entering the third trimester. We’ve been to labor and delivery three separate times to check on three separate worries - thankfully me and baby ended up being fine each time. It’s just been a bit of a roller coaster of emotions.

Yet… it’s so crazy to me that we’re finally so close to the day we get to meet our baby boy. Time has gone fast and slow all at the same time. I’m getting far more emotional lately because the thought of having and holding our rainbow baby safe, sound, and healthy represents a magnitude of closure for what has been an incredibly traumatic, exhausting, heartbreaking and stressful few years. Obviously, most of those feelings are coming from pregnancy after losing Mylah, but I know it’s also from our experience with Callie. My hope is this protocol I’m on really saved our son from not only death but also from the possibility of permanent brain damage.

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I think about it a lot, about how unfair our hand has been with our babies. As a first-time pregnant Mama, I did all the things you should do, took care of my body, read all the books, went to all the classes, did all the things. And yet, something happened to cause my sweet baby girl to lose part of her brain. Whether it’s related to chronic histiocytic intervillositis (CHI) or something else… it’s hard not having definitive answers. She can’t just be a little kid; she has to add work to every day of her life in order to (hopefully) have the same basic gross and fine motor abilities that most every other child her age has. She does it with grace and determination though, and it’s her fighting spirit and beautiful heart that inspire me so much.

But then to be pregnant for almost seven full months with our second baby girl, once again, doing all I can to love and care for her in my body. Only to lose her tragically, have to give birth to her, hold her lifeless in our arms, and bury her. Right next to her Papaw who we just lost earlier that year. It’s sickening to think about and truly one of the hardest things I’ve ever gone through.

Yet, after spending a full year processing, researching, praying, healing, and trying to get to a healthier place mentally, physically, emotionally, our sweet baby boy has come along. He is the hopeful turning point in our story. A way to see that a child can be born simply and without tragedy or hardship. We’ve never gotten to experience that - even our birth experience with Callie was clouded by the height of covid, so we’ve never even had a normal baby hospital stay.

Granted, this pregnancy hasn’t been easy on the mind or body. I’ve had to really rely on my faith to trust that God is going to keep our baby safe. And I’ve had to really suck it up when it comes to taking painful shots every day that leaves my belly full of bruises. And to remember to take extra medications in addition to my vitamins some of which have had some weird side effects (thankfully not anything severe). It’s just a lot of pressure and stress to keep up with everything and know I’m responsible for caring for this little one and hopefully making all the right decisions for his safety. But all of that is about to come to a close.

I know God never promised life to be easy or without difficulties, but I’m really hoping He will have mercy on our family this go around, that we can bring our baby home and have some normalcy for a little stretch.

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I also know.. should everything go like we’re hoping, life is going to be a bit topsy turvy for a while as we enter the newborn phase again- this time along with a three year old who has physical challenges. It’s daunting but honestly I’m so ready to soak it all in.

I’m ready for my body to be back so I can be more involved in Callie’s care and therapies. I’m ready to nurse my baby and snuggle him so close. I’m ready to see two little siblings bond and grow together while also making sure they know their sister is always with them too. And I’m ready to see how life unfolds as we find our footing with our new routines for our two little ones. Even if it’ll be hard and stressful, it’s a new chapter that I’m hoping will allow us to let the past hardships fade so we can focus on what’s ahead. Mylah will always be a part of our family and our life; I will continue longing for her until we’re in Heaven. But I believe our baby boy is truly the rainbow promise to bring our family a bit of peace. All of this is the ultimate dream that I hope becomes our reality very, very soon.

Holding the little plaster feet and hands the nurses so lovingly made in memory of Mylah.

Also, I hope to later speak more on the medical protocol I’ve been on for CHI, especially if we find it truly made a difference in this pregnancy; it’s not a clear thing to really know because the data is so limited, but we’ll be sending off my placenta regardless to see what information we might can gather. In the meantime, I have to say, I have a lot of gratitude for the support I’ve had from my OB doctor, our local high-risk clinic, Vanderbilt maternal fetal medicine, my therapist, and the private online CHI support group - without all the knowledge, support, and help with this pregnancy related to CHI, I wouldn’t have been able to mentally/emotionally handle all of this. Brian has been my rock through it all too, and the sacrifices he’s made to be at every appointment, ease my stress, and help with the things I need (like giving those awful shots and helping more with home stuff and with Callie) have been tremendous.

Also wanted to thank our church family for holding us in prayer and being such a support to our family. As well as all our family and friends and all of the people involved in Callie’s care who have been so understanding through all of this - I honestly cannot thank all each one of you enough for all you’ve done for us. And when it comes to getting ready for baby.. my family has stepped in so much to help us prepare for him and to help care for Callie in these final weeks- with the way I’ve been hobbling around, I seriously could not have managed otherwise.

So many thoughts and ramblings from a Mama full of emotion. I felt like it would be good to share what I’m feeling in the moment. I know there are a lot of other women in a very similar boat right now, slowly approaching their rainbow babies. It always helps me to know I’m not alone, and I’m hopeful sharing my heart on all of this will resonate with someone out there. Now it’s time to take these last moments and soak it all in. Snuggle and spoil Callie a little extra. And rest. Praying God will watch over us as we prepare to finally meet our little boy. ⋒

xo Paige

Special shout out to Jayne Hathaway of Jayne Hathaway Photography for capturing the photos in this post as part of our maternity session. It means so much to have these as a reminder of the emotions I was feeling and to see the rawness of what this pregnancy has been like for me and our family - and to have photos as a family of five… it brings comfort to my heart.