My story closely mirrors that of Eden's family. At 33 weeks pregnant, I lost my daughter, and my firstborn child, Scarlett Layne. She had been diagnosed with a chromosomal disorder called Triploidy, which meant that instead of the typical 46 chromosomes, she had 69. This condition was deemed “non-compatible with life” — words I can hardly put into any form that adequately describes the weight they carried. They are words no parent should ever hear. When I received this diagnosis at 25 weeks, I felt as if time itself had frozen. I can still vividly recall the sensation of the floor giving way beneath me. After a brief, tear-filled conversation with my husband, we both agreed that as long as Scarlett had the will to fight, we would support her in that fight, no matter the outcome. Though I thought I was preparing myself for the inevitable when my baby girl was born, nothing could have truly prepared me for the moment I learned she no longer had a heartbeat on August 22nd, 2019. Within hours, I was admitted to labor and delivery to begin the induction process. I’ve never been particularly fond of the term "rainbow baby." After all, the rainbow is a symbol of God's promise to never again flood the earth, and it’s hard to reconcile that with the idea that God would promise not to take another child from a mother. Still, on the day I was admitted to the hospital, which also happened to be National Rainbow Baby Day, something extraordinary occurred. A rainstorm rolled through Oklahoma—typically a hot, dry month—and with it came the most breathtaking rainbow, stretching over the hospital where I would soon deliver Scarlett. In that moment, I felt as if Scarlett was sending me a message, a sign that she was still with me. The next day, at 11:30 AM, I gave birth to the most beautiful little girl I will ever know. Her body was far from perfect due to the complications of her condition, but in my heart, she was perfect because I knew she was already whole, healed, and in the arms of Jesus. After 26 hours of heart-wrenching moments, I made the hardest decision of my life — handing my daughter over to the funeral home. All I wanted was to stay with her, to hold her so she would never feel alone. One year and three days later, I welcomed my healthy son, Emmett Graham, into the world, born at the same hospital, in the same room, with the same doctor, and the same nurse. It was a moment of healing that I will never forget, a moment that brought peace to my heart. During my time at the hospital with both of my children, I was blessed with an incredible nurse, Jody. She was my source of strength, grace, and compassion during the most challenging days of my life. Because of her, I decided to pursue a career in nursing. My hope is to offer the same comfort and care she gave me to others who walk the path I once did. I aim to touch the lives of hundreds, if not thousands, just as she touched mine. Sadly, Jody passed away in 2024 after a courageous battle with cancer. I can only pray that one day I will make her proud.