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

Share on facebook
Share on pinterest
Share on twitter
Share on tumblr
Share on reddit
Share on whatsapp
Share on print
Share on email

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

Miranda and Adrian's Elephant on the California coast

17 August 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

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.

Adrian's Elephant and Peanut's Mermaid

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

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.

Explore more of Adrian's Elephant

Scroll to Top