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A rainbow baby is term used to describe a baby born to parents who've previously lost a child due to miscarriage, stillbirth or neonatal death. Before the birth of their son Cooper, Sam Jones and husband Martin experienced multiple miscarriage and stillbirth.

Sam talks about the isolation of pregnancy loss and how having her rainbow baby has been challenging too.

Sam holding her son Cooper
Image caption,
Sam and her son Cooper.

Our excitement turned to anxiety

Martin and I always talked about wanting children, and were delighted to find we were pregnant a few months after we started trying for a baby. We giggled over the positive test, thinking: 鈥楾his is it, no going back now! We鈥檙e going to be parents鈥. Within an instant, a new future was ahead.

It never occurred to us that anything bad could happen.

But at 11 weeks, I had some bleeding and booked in for a scan. We felt nervous, not knowing what to expect. After an anxious few minutes, our midwife turned and said: 鈥業鈥檓 really sorry, but there鈥檚 no heartbeat鈥. Our little Bean had passed away at eight weeks, five days.

When we were pregnant again a few months later, there wasn鈥檛 much excitement; we were really nervous. Waiting for our 12-week scan felt like a lifetime and I couldn鈥檛 relax until I鈥檇 seen our baby鈥檚 heartbeat. I felt so much relief and joy when our sonographer said: 鈥楾here鈥檚 your baby, and there鈥檚 its heartbeat鈥. Everything seemed to be going great, and we relaxed as we went into the second trimester. We were so excited to see our little baby again at the 20-week scan and hopefully find out if it was a boy or girl.

Accepting that it might not happen for us

Our sonographer revealed it was a boy and although he was developing, she was concerned about his size. We needed another scan with a consultant, who explained our baby was smaller than he should be and referred us to a placenta clinic. Here, a specialist consultant explained that the blood flow to our baby was extremely poor, so he was just half the weight he should have been. Then in the most direct and sympathetic way, he told us our baby wasn't going to survive. We were heartbroken. On Friday 13 November 2015 at 17:16pm, Guy was stillborn at 25 weeks and five days, weighing 265g.

After losing Guy and going on to have two further miscarriages, I began to lose hope.

I started to accept that maybe it wasn鈥檛 going to happen for us, that we weren鈥檛 going to get our rainbow baby.

But desperate for answers, we underwent various tests. Everything came back normal, which we accepted could only be a positive, and decided to try again.

How sharing our experiences helped

Going through pregnancy loss can feel isolating and often people avoid discussing miscarriage or stillbirth, so I began to openly share our losses through my social media.

The 12-week rule around pregnancy announcements (waiting until your 12-week scan to tell everyone) can make early losses feel even lonelier. If nobody knew about the pregnancy before, I noticed reactions to the miscarriage were different to those who did. Sharing your pregnancy before your 12-week scan does not increase your chance of miscarriage, but it does increase your support network if things do wrong.

I started writing my own blog to document the pregnancies, the miscarriages, the tests, but also to explain to anyone who hasn鈥檛 experienced loss why I probably came across so anxious or negative.

I wanted to reach and speak to those who are going through the same struggles, so they know they are not alone.

Taking one day at a time

In September 2017, I was pregnant for the fifth time. Not having any expectations, we took each week as it came, focusing on each small milestone instead of the end goal, which was too overwhelming after so much loss. Each stage brought waves of anxiety, but we were lucky to be closely monitored by a wonderful team. They knew us and had been with us for three years so always listened and reassured us.

Our rainbow baby Cooper arrived safely on 3 May 2018, weighing 5lbs 1oz. However, his first few weeks weren鈥檛 smooth sailing 鈥 he spent 11 days on a neonatal intensive care unit, followed by an operation.

Bonding wasn't easy

The first 12 months of Cooper's life were difficult. When he was six months old, I felt my mental health was suffering and asked my health visitor for support. I wasn鈥檛 enjoying time with my baby as much as I felt I should and life was far from blissful. I was overwhelmed by sleep deprivation, hormonal changes and changes in my marriage. Despite having family and friend support, I felt extremely alone. After all our loss, grief and having a poorly newborn baby, postnatal depression seemed unavoidable.

The thought of trying for another baby seems terrifying to me - the idea of more losses, more anxiety, another difficult labour, PND. I鈥檓 not ruling out more children, but feel I need more time to enjoy my time with Cooper and get my mental wellbeing back on track.

Now the fog is clearing

This past year has been vastly different to the first. Returning to work has brought some balance and routine.

The fog has cleared and Cooper is bringing so much joy to our lives.

Watching him grow and learn is fascinating 鈥 he's becoming such a bright, cheeky and funny little boy, and makes us burst with love and pride.

If you鈥檙e going through pregnancy after previous losses, my advice is to find your support network 鈥 whether it鈥檚 family, close friends or health professionals. There are lots of online support groups available too. You are not alone in feeling anxious, hopeless or scared, so be open for the sake of your mental wellbeing, and seek the reassurance you need.

If you're affected by any of the issues raised by Sam, support is available via the 麻豆社 Action Line.

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