Today, August 22, is recognized as National Rainbow Baby Day. A Rainbow Baby is a child born after a miscarriage, stillbirth, or infant loss. The term ‘Rainbow Baby’ is used because, just like a rainbow follows a storm, these babies symbolize hope and new beginnings for families who have endured the heartbreaking storms of loss.

Today, I want to share my testimony about the loss of my little one through miscarriage and how God later blessed me with my sweet and precious rainbow baby, Blaise Noelle. Until now, I’ve never shared this story publicly—only a few close friends and family have known. At the time of my loss, I couldn’t find the words to share, and as the months and years passed, it never felt like the right time.

But today, as I see others sharing their stories of loss and the blessings that came after the storm, I feel encouraged to finally share mine. My prayer is that this post does not trigger painful memories but instead brings encouragement and hope. I pray it serves as a testimony of how God walks with us through the darkest valleys, brings light into our deepest sorrow, and places a rainbow of promise at the end of the storm.

As many of you know, my oldest daughter, Bellamy, was born in February 2021. If you’ve read my previous post, “Testimony Time – My Personal Testimony – Type 1 Diabetes,” you’ll remember that her birth was truly a miracle. Because of my Type 1 Diabetes, I was considered a high-risk pregnancy, and throughout that time, I carried a heavy burden of fear and worry that something might happen to me or my baby.

But after such a healthy pregnancy, a safe delivery, and the blessing of a strong, beautiful baby, those fears began to fade away. I felt such relief and gained a new confidence in the thought of having more children.

After Bellamy turned two, we decided it was time for another little one, and in March 2023 we found out I was expecting. Because of my experience with Bellamy’s pregnancy, I felt so confident this time. Honestly, the thought of miscarriage, health issues, or loss never really crossed my mind—aside from the normal caution that comes with pregnancy and the desire to take extra care of myself.

I called my doctor, scheduled my first appointment and ultrasound, and went on my way, overjoyed that we were having another sweet baby and that Bellamy would soon be a big sister. My first ultrasound was set for 10 weeks, and in the meantime, we shared the news with our immediate family, which only added to the excitement and joy.

Jordan and I went to my first doctor’s appointment and ultrasound at the end of April, when I was about 10 weeks along. The ultrasound was done first, and as Jordan and I watched the screen, we saw the sweet little blip of our baby. When it was finished, the tech told us she was going to take the report to the doctor for review, and then we would move on to the appointment. Everything seemed normal.

But as we sat in the ultrasound room waiting, I remember telling Jordan that the tech never let us listen to the baby’s heartbeat—I thought she must have just forgotten. In that moment, it honestly never crossed my mind that the reason could be because there was no heartbeat. Up until then, I had never really considered that something might be wrong with the baby, or even thought about the possibility of a miscarriage.

The next thing I knew, my OBGYN—the same doctor I had during my pregnancy with Bellamy, with whom I had built a great relationship—came into the ultrasound room. I was surprised to see her, but her next words shocked and shattered my world. She asked if we had noticed that the ultrasound tech hadn’t played the heartbeat, and then gently explained that the tech had not been able to find one at all.

In that moment, it felt as if my whole world stopped. This was the very last thing I ever expected to hear. I had experienced no symptoms, no signs of miscarriage, nothing that would have given me any reason to think something was wrong.

Even to this day, I can’t fully put into words the pain I felt in that moment—or in the moments that followed. Everything after that felt like a blur as the doctor explained that although I was 10 weeks along, the baby measured as if it had stopped growing at 8 weeks. She went on to say that all of my labs looked normal, my diabetes was well-controlled, and there was nothing that pointed to a clear reason why this had happened to my baby.

I had always heard the statistic that one in four pregnancies end in miscarriage, but after the nearly perfect pregnancy I had with Bellamy, I never imagined I would be that one out of four. As soon as I began to process what had happened, my first thought was that there had to be a mistake. I had no miscarriage symptoms, no signs at all—just one ultrasound that was telling me this.

I began searching and found story after story of women who had been told the same thing, only to go back later or to another ultrasound clinic and discover their baby was fine and the heartbeat was strong. I immediately clung to those stories. Even though I didn’t express this hope to anyone except my husband and a few close people, I started praying and pleading with God that the ultrasound was wrong—or that if it wasn’t, He would miraculously heal my baby.

During that time, I called my pastor and pastor’s wife to ask for prayer, and I reached out to prayer warriors I knew. Even when I didn’t share the details with people, I asked for unspoken prayer requests. I requested an unspoken prayer request for my church family to pray over, and I knew so many people were sincerely lifting me up. I had so much faith that either the ultrasound was mistaken, or if it wasn’t, God was going to miraculously touch my baby and everything would be okay.

In the meantime, the doctors kept telling me that since I wasn’t experiencing any symptoms of miscarriage, I would need to consider different options to help induce the process. But all I could think was that they were wrong—that God was going to do the miraculous and everything was going to be okay. So I kept putting them off.

After about two weeks, I finally began experiencing the natural symptoms of a miscarriage. When it happened, it felt like I was hearing the devastating news all over again. I was crushed and heartbroken. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me after all the faith and confidence I had placed in God. The little baby I had prayed for, was excited for, and loved for nearly 12 weeks, was truly gone.

In that season of devastation—hurting, broken, and crying out to God with the question “why”—I felt His peace wash over me. It was truly the peace of God that passes all understanding, because I certainly did not understand the “why” in any of it. In prayer, I felt God impress on my heart that having a baby, another pregnancy, and this journey toward a precious child was simply not for the “right now.” I never felt Him say “never again,” but instead I felt the gentle reassurance of “not in My timing.”

That thought reminded me of David, who pleaded with God for his baby’s life. When he realized his prayer would not be answered in the way he had hoped, he said in 2 Samuel 12:23 (b), “Can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me.”

During this time, I also came across a quote that touched my heart: “We didn’t get to hold you, but we know the One who does.” The thought of God holding my precious little one in His arms—safe from every harm, pain, and fear—brought me such comfort. It gave me peace to know that one day, when I make it to Heaven, I will finally hold my baby myself.

Jordan and I decided to wait a year, because everything still felt too fresh, too raw, and, if I’m being honest, too fearful. Finally, in April 2024, we found out we were expecting again. This time felt so different from my previous two pregnancies. I now carried the knowledge—the sobering truth—that I could once again be the one in four pregnancies.

But also, right alongside that knowledge, and greater in my mind, was the peace and feeling of “now is the time” from God. I don’t know how to explain it, but from the first knowledge of expecting another sweet baby, I just felt that from God. I won’t pretend that I never worried, feared, or felt tense at each ultrasound, wondering if this pregnancy would end like the last one. But each time, God’s peace always overpowered my fear. Every doctor’s appointment, every ultrasound, every test for both me and the baby, every milestone we passed—all of it confirmed that God’s hand was on us.

Little Blaise Noelle Holloway was born on December 19, 2024. The pregnancy was without complications, the delivery went smoothly, and—aside from a few nights under the phototherapy lamp for jaundice—she was a perfect, healthy baby girl.

Our loss has made us treasure our little rainbow baby even more. It has reminded us that God’s will and timing are not always the same as ours, yet even in the midst of pain and storms, He is always by our side. He has a way of bringing some of the most beautiful blessings out of some of the most devastating circumstances.

I’ve shared this testimony not to reopen painful traumas or memories, but to shine a light on the beautiful things God can bring after life devastates us beyond belief. I know there are many women who have faced miscarriages later in pregnancy, who have endured the heartbreak of stillbirth, and who have even walked through the loss of an infant. Even in my own pain, I can’t fully imagine the depth of those sorrows. My heart goes out to you, and my prayers are with you.

To all the strong mothers who have experienced the loss of a baby—at any stage—I want you to know that I love you, and I am praying for you. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my testimony. I pray that God’s peace, which passes all understanding, surrounds you and your families.

Philippians 4:6–8 (KJV):

(6) Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.

(7) And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.

(8) Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.

– A Redeemed Ruby