My "rainbow" baby, a boy, is due in three weeks. I'm looking forward to meeting him...cautiously optimistic that all will work out ok this go around, and he will be healthy and normal.

But his impending arrival is bittersweet. He would not exist had his older sister Veronica not died at 7 weeks of age last summer. Hard to wrap my head around that.

The world around me is thrilled that this new baby is coming, and believes I've "moved on." They don't know that Veronica is always on my mind -- my ache for her only slightly dulled by the passage of time.

How healing ARE "rainbow" babies? Will caring for this little guy take my mind off of Veronica? Or will being with a newborn again and taking in the smells, sounds that come with it only magnify my ache for the baby girl I lost?

Oh, Olivia. First, so good to see you here. Second, even though I am so far behind you in this process, I can really feel where you are right now. Everything you've said reverberates in my mind and heart every day as we try to conceive Hudson's little brother or sister. I am terrified that announcing a new pregnancy will make people think we've "moved on" or worse, that it will mean I am somehow starting to leave my sweet girl behind.

I wish I had any sage advice for you. All I know to say is what I believe in my heart-- that you will find your capacity for love to be infinitely expansive and that loving your little boy will only enhance your love of Veronica. Having him and loving him is one of the best ways for you to honor and remember her. And while it is hard to imagine right now (it is so hard for me, too), I really believe that doing so will continue to help you heal. It certainly may magnify that ache (I ache already thinking about what it will be like when a second child starts hitting all the milestones that Hudson did, and then starts achieving all the ones she never will), I think it will also create new hope for you, new joy that wasn't possible before. And as one of my friends told me, it may be joy mixed with pain, but that has to be better than just pain.

I will be thinking of you so much these next three weeks. Much love.

"And as one of my friends told me, it may be joy mixed with pain, but that has to be better than just pain."

That's a pretty amazing statement really. One to hold on to.

Thinking of you Olivia. I don't know, having only recently lost my son. But I will be hoping that joy will override pain as best it can for you.

Mandy -- nice to "see" you here as well. And thank you so much for your kind and thoughtful words. Happy to hear you are TTC again; I know how emotional that whole process is after losing a child, so hugs to you as you brave that next step.

Merry -- I'm so sorry for the loss of your little boy. :-( Appreciate your support very much. And I wish for you the same.

Yes, joy mixed with pain. I had my stillborn and living twin at the same time in April, so this may be somewhat of a different experience. But what I found is that I was very black and white in the process: wholely devouring Abby or wholey mourning Will. Some days just the love that blossomed in me for Abby made me miss Will so much more...and other days I felt so very, very lucky to have this little sweet thing to dry my tears. The post-pardom hormones are killer...zoloft was necessary for me.

The best advice I received was this: grief is not a betrayal of joy, nor joy a betrayal of grief. They both exist independent from one another and will continue to be a presence in your life.

On a sidenote, I purchased an Angel Care monitor for my daughter (it monitors baby's beathing while they sleep), and I credit this for any small amounts of restful sleep I was able to get those first few weeks when I was terrified to let her out of my sight.

Much love,

Eve

Oh...and the world WILL see you as moving on with your new arrival and will not understand your continued grief...as if one baby can so easily replace another. I got a baby shower invitation the other day and told my hubby that it hurt to think about going to a shower. Even my hubby asked, "Why?". I didn't think I needed to explain to him that mine was canceled because Will died a few weeks before it was to happen. But I feel less mad now when that stuff happens...just...misunderstood.

Eve -- I'm sorry for the loss of your son, Will. Thank you for responding.

Yes, I've gotten a number of idiotic comments from people who definitely seem to think I've not only moved on, but that Veronica never happened. People who say things like, "Oh, are you excited to be having your third?" (this baby is my fourth; I have three daughters, including V -- the other two are very much alive and well) or, "Oooh...how are you going to handle three?" My reply -- "um...somehow we managed for the blissful 7 weeks we WERE actively parenting three."

It's frustrating as hell...the only thing worse than losing my child is for the idiots of the world to deny her very existence. People are so uninformed when it comes to baby/child loss and death in general. I guess denial is their coping mechanism.

I wish I could pretend she never happened...it'd be a whole lot easier...but V's life and death are very much a part of who I am. To deny her, is to deny me.

Olivia, I know where you're at, I just had my "rainbow baby" 7 weeks ago, and no I haven't stopped missing my boy Henry, who we lost at 3 days old last August. It's a strange thing, having lost a child and then having the gift of having another not so long after (though of course "not so long" seems like an eternity when you're waiting) -- and the toll that takes emotionally. I'm at a place where I am finally starting to really love my new baby -- I mean really connect with her (I have loved her for always, but this new feeling that has started to happen, its like Im letting her in finally), but I think of Henry every single day, he is never far from my thoughts. I think that's just how it goes, and I think that's how it has to be. Much love to you...

thank you, Mindy, for sharing your experience. A new baby after a loss is truly a gift, isn't it? Thank you for reminding me of that. I am so sorry for the loss of your son.