The road to motherhood can be far different from the one you envision; mine is that way, it is one filled with beautiful rainbows. In my 20’s the thought of a positive pregnancy test scared me. I wasn’t sure motherhood was a part of my journey. Every month I would breathe a sigh of relief with my first cramp or sign of my period. Fast forward to my 30’s and those signs signify something different, heartbreak. All those efforts were no longer needed, I wanted to make plans for a baby and a family. The months now brought promise and excitement. However, the months kept passing and that promise turned to doubt and disappointment. Then came a year and then two. I felt like a failure. I felt I couldn’t get pregnant, something I wanted so bad. Wasn’t I made for this? All those misconceptions of how it could be so easy didn’t seem to apply to me. Was I always broken and unable to bring life? The despair becomes consuming. Will he stay? Will I have a family? The day finally came. A positive test. I went to the doctor and it was confirmed. We were bursting with excitement and shared our news immediately, I was five weeks pregnant. I loved it. I would wake up and place my hand on my belly in disbelief. I would talk to my baby in the morning, on my way to work, before bed. At my 8-week checkup though I was faced with a truth I refused to see. There was no heartbeat. They told me their prognosis and said we could follow up in a week. My mind circled with questions and fears. I felt so much doubt and confusion. I grasped at all hope I had left. My body still felt pregnant, there were no signs. Wouldn’t my body tell me if something was wrong? I didn’t believe it would fail me at such a pivotal time. It did. When I went back the doctor confirmed it again. I heard nothing she said, I refused to. Until she showed me pictures of what a healthy baby at this stage would look like and then she showed me my ultrasound. It was clear, my baby was not growing, there was no change. We scheduled a D and C. My body clearly was holding on just as much as my heart was. The procedure, the weeks after, they just seemed to go by slowly and painfully. Things were expected to go back to normal, but I wasn’t normal. Others try and console you. You feel alone. It’s a loss that leaves you feeling you’ve sunken into a deep abyss of solitude. My husband tried but he couldn’t understand. I felt alone and the commentary that followed seemed to just add to the heavy weight on my heart. You can try again. This tells us you can get pregnant. You just need to relax. None of these words were comforting. I cried. This hadn’t happened to other family members. So why did it happen to me, to us? Months passed and I never felt healed but we were surprised with another positive test. My feelings were more of fear than joy this time. Doubt and uncertainty plagued me. I worried over everything and constantly feared another loss. 38 weeks and 2 days later though my first rainbow baby arrived. She is a fiery spirit with a curious mind and a loving soul. Two years later we found out we were pregnant again. I was shocked and scared and felt I needed to be cautious. I scheduled our appointment and checked my dates. We were about 7 weeks. Then the cramps came and I was panicked. I tried to do things as normal and not worry but it didn’t work. The cramps kept coming and I was filled with sadness as my heart came to a realization of what was happening, it was different though, my body knew this time. My heart broke. I had my daughter with me now, time couldn’t stop, I had to be there for her. I thought I knew what to expect but I had no idea. I went to work that Monday and tried to do my normal routine. I was walking at work when I felt a drop. I quickly went to the bathroom and looked down in my pants to see that I was miscarrying. I didn’t know what to do, I was terrified. I silently cried. In my hands I held what was of my baby and I cried for my loss, feeling so helpless there in that tiny bathroom. Even now, putting it into words is a struggle. What words could truly convey the depth of the loss and struggle and confusion at that moment, or even now. We went to the ER and we waited hours. I had miscarried but hadn’t “passed” everything yet. I didn’t know it could, but my heart sank further. I still had days to go until I would “pass” everything. A constant, daily reminder of our loss, our child. I endured silently. Why did this happen again? Why this way? Time passes and I will have moments of peace, and then the questions will creep back in my mind on anniversaries, holidays, or special moments. I am blessed to say my second rainbow arrived a year later. My pregnancy with my son carried with it the same fears and worry but I was determined to silence those and to celebrate him every step of the way because that joy, excitement and love was what all my children deserved. I Love them all and with my first pregnancy I began my motherhood journey. These stories are a part of my motherhood and I need to OWN it. I am reminded every time I go to a doctor’s visit and they ask how many pregnancies have you had? My answer is 4, and although only 2 resulted in my beautiful rainbow babies I know I am a mother of 4 beautiful souls. It’s time to share our stories and let other mamas know they don’t have to be alone during these times.