I don’t call my daughter a rainbow baby because she deserves her own identity (Archives)

I don’t call my daughter a rainbow baby because she deserves her own identity

Children born subsequent to loss are often referred to as “rainbow babies,” representing the beauty that follows the storm. This analogy doesn’t work for me though. My daughter deserves her own identity.

Miranda with Adrian's elephant and Peanut's mermaid in the hospital (Sarah Perry Photography)

The Whirlwind of Pregnancy and Delivery After Loss

May 19, 2020

After losing Adrian to undiagnosed preeclampsia, I was terrified to experience pregnancy for a second time. Terrified, but also holding hope. And my Peanut is finally here. This is her story.

Miranda and Adrian's Elephant on the California coast

17 August 2019

August 17, 2019

A heavy, beautiful day today, and Peanut is officially laughing. Forever finding that balance in all of the feelings in life after loss.

Flowers at St Katharines's Parmoor, Buckinghamshire, England (Miranda Hernandez)

My experience as a pseudo-rainbow baby

April 2, 2019

My parents never talked to us about their losses, and I blame their generations. (Publicly) holding onto grief was something that wasn’t done. And so this grief was whispered, held tightly under cover, impacts erased before they could be explored. But these erasers only took away the surface.

My Daughter is Not a Rainbow; My Son was Not a Storm

January 20, 2019

While I understand the common reference to the loss of a child as a storm, the rainbow metaphor doesn’t work for me. My daughter is not a rainbow; she is a just a little girl, with her own unique identity.

I don’t call my daughter a rainbow baby because she deserves her own identity (Archives)