Hello Hivers! My friend celebrated her daughter's first birthday and the theme was something that I had never heard of before: a rainbow baby. At first, I thought it was simply a nod to her favorite artist's album - colorful, playful, and full of love. But when my friend and her husband shared the meaning behind it, I was deeply moved. A rainbow baby is a child born after a miscarriage or pregnancy loss. The rainbow symbolizes hope and healing after the storm. Knowing the backstory made the entire celebration more meaningful and solemn. It wasn't just about balloons and cake - it was about resilience, love, and the beauty of second chances.
Growing up in the Philippines, the conversation around pregnancy, especially around teenage pregnancy, was ladened with shame. Adults used it to scare young girls: "Don't get pregnant too early, or your life will be ruined." It wasn't just advice, it was almost like a warning, a curse, if you will, to control young girls' sexual behavior. For many of us, the message stuck. Speaking for myself, I grew up fearing the idea of childbearing instead of embracing it. The shame, I could say, outlived that era of my life, and in a way made me feel disconnected to the true essence of motherhood. I saw it as something that should be avoided or approached with hesitation.
That's why my friend's story stood out to me. It reminded me that having children isn't as easy or as straightforward as we were led to believe. "One mistake, and you'll end up with a baby just like your mom," these words haunted me as a teenager and made me feel that I had to do better than my parents - which worked back then but I realize that is nonsense now. Pregnancy was framed as something that could happen instantly and ruin your life. Yet here was my friend, someone who had longed for motherhood her whole life, discovering how complex and fragile the journey can be.
I remember how devastated she was when she experienced her miscarriage. Ever since I'd known her, she had dreamed of becoming a mother. We met at my first corporate job, both of us young professionals trying to navigate office politics and career growth. It was a bright sunny day when she shared how it was always her life's dream to become a mother. For her, motherhood wasn't just something that came to her to she'd get around to eventually - it was her purpose. She had been preparing for it for years. I remember her telling me that she practiced yoga early in life because she wanted to prepare her body for that moment. She wanted to give herself the best chance possible. She was intentional, disciplined, and hopeful. I remember thinking back then, "She's going to be such a good mom one day."
And then life, as it often does, tested her. I watched her grieve not just the loss of a pregnancy but the loss of a dream she had carried in her heart for so long. She didn't give up. She held on to hope and when her daughter was born, it felt like a rainbow after the storm.
Motherhood has always been an open-ended question for me. I never dismissed the idea, but I never clung to it either. My attitude has been more, "Whether or not I become a mom, I know I'll do a good job." You could say that it's a quiet trust in fate, a belief that whatever is meant for me will find me. Watching my friend fight so hard for something I've always been neutral about made me reflect and reminded me that there's no single way to approach life. Some are driven by one clear purpose, while others flow with the possibilities. No right or wrong, just both valid and are deserving of respect.
The party was pure magic! The couple went all out to celebrate their rainbow baby. There were inflatables, piñatas, washable tattoos, and even a ball pit. I couldn't resist diving into the pool of colorful balls - I just had to try it. We often think that adulthood means leaving behind childish things, but the truth is, our inner child never disappears. She's still inside, waiting for the perfect opportunity to have fun and be silly. The kids were running around while the adults populated the tattoo station.
That day, I walked away with two lessons. First was to honor the child within us. Whether it's jumping into a ball pit or filling your skin with washable tattoo, playfulness is not something to outgrow - it's something to nurture. Our inner child deserves celebration just as much as the milestones we hit in adulthood. Second is to never underestimate the power of your dreams. My friend's journey to motherhood wasn't straightforward, but her determination coupled with support from her husband, family, and friends carried her through. She reminded me that even when life says "not yet" you can keep believing in "someday."
Looking back, it was more than just a birthday party - it was a reminder that after storms, rainbows really do appear. Sometimes they take time, sometimes they surprise you, but when they arrive, they are worth celebrating in all their color and glory.
Here's to my friend, her daughter, and the rainbow that brightens their lives. And here's to all of us too for finding joy in unexpected places, trusting in our own timing, and remembering that even in adulthood, it's never too late to laugh, play, and love with the heart of a child.
