I will never forget finding out I was pregnant with #5. I dreamed that I had a long line of pregnancy tests to show Chris and they were all positive. I woke up with a full bladder and a hunch . I took the test in our guest bathroom downstairs at 5 AM and I ran upstairs to tell him, show Him, hug him, and praise God with him. And we felt the kind of joy WE desired to feel. Finally. And it was needed.  And after so much sorrow- I was a bit drunk on JOY.  

Intoxicated with love and hope and promises fulfilled. We needed this baby. This bright rainbow after such dark storms. It felt like an olive branch of redemption from God. Like freedom from a prison we were locked in and like sunshine on the chilliest of days. It felt right. It felt impossible for the road to be short or marked with pain. I could feel the ordinance of this- – the holy declaration of restoration. 

And my world instantly got bigger. It didn’t make me grieve less but things that had been painful like pregnant ladies and onesies in my hospital gift shop – – lost their sting and began to have luster again. I felt like I had been invited and accepted back to a fairytale castle after a long stay in a dungeon. 

The joy was exhilarating and God began to do things rapidly that He had taken His time with on other babies. A strong sense of the gender. A song for this baby. A name. All things gifted in an ” early” surge of joy that swept over me. I ordered special gifts for this baby including some very special rainbow themed items. Such sweet fun. I quite simply had good vibes. 

My mother cried tears of joy and relief, my husband beamed, and I was covered in the kind of joy and peace that is usually only associated with Christmas. Everything about it was perfect. I had just started my 41st year – how perfect. 

Perfect would remain the theme from January 19th until February 9 when the “spotting” began. The ultrasound that was meant to reassure instead revealed that what was supposed to be a 7 week pregnancy had actually drifted into eternal rest at 5 1/2 weeks.   God had blessed us with a rainbow baby that would be a forever resting rainbow. 

And We had been used by God once again for Him to ordain life through our family. But He had used His math instead of mine. And in a wave of tears and an assault of painful cramping. . . I once again cried out to God that I don’t understand 

But I trust. 

That I wanted different. 

But know His way is higher. 

That I’m hurt . . . So very hurt and disappointed . . . On top of seething hurt and disappointment that was still there.  Hurt upon hurt. 

And that it’s hard to feel that He is good. And hard to feel that I am not cursed. 

Do you trust me? 

It’s the only question He asks me sometimes.  

I trust you. It’s the only right answer. All the time. 

I trust that I begged Him for the miracle of remaining  reconciled to Him. I wanted to know for sure.  I trust that the best way for me to know for sure was to lose another child . But without drifting out of reconciliation with Him this time. He was good to give this gift. And kind to deliver it to early  in the  process.  Grace. 

Grace Upon Grace. 

I trust that I had asked Him to deliver a child naturally many times many years ago. But was placed in a position with all of my live births to deliver surgically under His protection.  I trust that this , these sacred 3 days that I labored over this resting rainbow. . . Was His YES to those prayers. The kindest yes for my body and my heart. 

I trust that He knew I love the buddy system and hated for any member of our family to be alone. Even in Heaven.  I trust that it is right for Ellis to have a sibling in heaven. For our girls to be together.  

I trust that I’m better for being fully sure of when I believe that life begins.  There is no doubt when you tearfully beg the nurse to see if there’s anyway she can retrieve a picture of that “yolk sac” for you to keep. And you lovingly stare at it and thank God for it. Yes, life begins at the beginning for me. Long before the cadence of the heartbeat starts. 

And I trust that He qualified and ordained me for yet another territory in ministry.  Each road I walk with Him is one I can help lead others down.  My resume of pain is the most important one I’m writing. It gives me jobs and titles for this kingdom that no one else will be selected for.  These paths paved with pain are taking me to good places both on earth and in Eternity. 

I learned that rainbows remind us of Gods promise to us.  They are a reminder that we are in relationship with Him and He has the upper hand.  As He should.  But it’s a hand we rest in. One our names are written on. I learned that rainbows make us children of wonder. Real rainbows don’t stay that long. They sparkle in the clearing after the storm and then they disappear in the sky. 

Chris privately buried our rainbow right where her sister was laid to rest.  It is on earth as it is in heaven.  We tucked away many dreams when we tucked that sweet baby in to rest eternal.  A new memory box of things never used or worn. It was a week before Ellis’ birthday and there would be no birthday for this little joymaker.  

So we rest on the promises of God even while those sweet promises rest in His loving arms. 

Our resting rainbow. My covenant. His resting promises. May we all rest In The peace that only He can bring.  And I fell in love with that rainbow when she was two lines on a stick and walked in joy the 3 weeks we were roommmates in this body.  I loved ever minute of being her momma.   It’s gonna be a great reunion in heaven. No doubt. But now I’m guaranteed to have someone I will meet there for the very first time. Even though I carried them in my body and my heart for the fullness of their earthly life.     When I get there,  I won’t want it any other way. Of that, I am sure.  Only God can orchestrate such magic. 

Sweet baby, Mommas coming. 

Sweet God, it’s good to be your baby always.