Dear Bump: A Letter to My Rainbow Baby on the Night Before His Birth

Tomorrow, we’ll both be born.

Frankly My Dear
4 min readSep 29, 2019


Photo by Alicia Petresc on Unsplash

Dear Bump

Tomorrow we’ll both be born. Me — as a first-time mother and you — fresh and squalling into this crazy, beautiful world.

You’re squirming around inside me as I write to you…it’s a feeling I’ve grown quite used to. We are so entwined now that movements which once startled me, occasionally escape unnoticed by my brain. Not tonight though.

Tonight, I am cataloguing every little wriggle, every series of hiccups, every foot stretched high into my ribs. Because by this time tomorrow, you and I will be two separate beings and the greatest dream I’ve ever had for myself — to be your Mama — will be realized.

This pregnancy, things haven’t exactly gone to plan.

But then again, nothing about having a child really has for your Daddy and I. From that very first loss to now, it’s been one twist and turn after the other. Every moment has been a lesson in patience. An opportunity to practice grace and acceptance.

Yet, even now — as we prepare for a bit of a bumpy landing — I am filled with an incredible sense of gratitude for this experience. Even when things have been difficult, even when I have struggled to get through physically and emotionally, I have never lost touch with the miracle of you. My whole life, people have tried to get me to slow down, to enjoy living in the moment. But it wasn’t until you came along that I learnt to appreciate life in a lower gear. In your short life, you have taught me so much already and I know our lessons together have only just begun. As I have grown your body, you have grown my soul.

Tomorrow, as the surgical curtain draws up to end our pregnancy and start our life together, I want you to know that I am so grateful to have you. I love you more than I can express and even though pregnancy after loss has been tough, nothing would be tougher than not holding you at all.

You’re not just my rainbow, you’re my whole sun.

So tonight — our last night as one being — I’m going to stroke your back through the taught skin of my belly one more…



Frankly My Dear

Journalist & Features writer | Heartfelt storytelling about love, motherhood and life from a woman who’s been there.