Rangila Lynne Gross: Our Rainbow Daughter

On the 8th of February 2021, we were ecstatic to receive long-awaited paperwork from the Indian government declaring that Wren is legally, officially OUR DAUGHTER!  This document allows us to apply for emergency Visas to get to India AND it lets the orphanage send away for Wren's passport.  So we do have several important steps left, but our timeframe for travel has gotten MUCH closer. 

As she is now legally a member of our family, we get to do the stuff normal parents do: Share pictures of her online, tell you her FULL name and birthday, and jabber non-stop about her to the point you get sick of us!  Here's a few things we've been dying to tell you:

Wren's full name is Rangila.  Pronounced "Wren" (as in, the bird. Duh, hence her nickname) - "gill" (just like the fish breathe-y part) - "uh" (my response when someone says something dumb, like mispronouncing my daughter's name after I shared this super helpful guide).  We will call her both Wren and Rangila interchangeably, but she'll definitely get Rangila when she's in trouble.  (Which will probably only happen during Mommy duty, since Daddy is BEYOND smitten already.)

Wren's birthday is the day after our dear angel baby friend, Gabriel's.  This was one of the "aha!" moments that stood out when we first got her referral.  It was further confirmation, knowing we'd already be headed to Rosehill cemetery each year at some point on the 21st to pay an angelversary visit to Gabe. Then we can also visit Margot the night before Rangila's unicorn/hot wheels/peanut butter/whatever-freaking-theme-she-wants birthday party.  Because sisters share a unique kind of love.  They pull close, bond tight, fight hard, and show up.  And Wren IS Margot's big sister, her memory protector, for life.

I saved the best for last.  Many of you know my "Holy Spirit" massage story.  (<- Yes that statement is ridiculous if you don't have context.  And, well, maybe even if you do.  Please refer back to this blog post about our referral to get all the deets.) Basically, I was told -in the midst of our graytones of grief- that "the color will come."  Fast forward to the night after we got our referral call, when David looked up the meaning of Rangila in her native Bengali: "Colorful."  Isn't it amazingly appropriate that "rainbow baby" is the title given to a child who comes after loss?!  The bright spot following a storm.  Not that Margot herself was a disruptive tempest (although, some early days in pregnancy I had my concerns), but her physical removal from our family unit shoved us straight into the downpour.  Wren isn't a replacement daughter; she IS our middle daughter.  Just as Elijah IS our eldest son.  Margot will ALWAYS be my baby.  How significant then to find out that "Rainbow Babies" have their own celebratory day.  On August 22nd- Rangila's birthday.  That felt like icing on the daughter cake.  Also this- Wren gets her middle name from her Granddad, my Dad Lynn.  Since the name was to honor him, I never thought to look up its meaning until recently: "One who lives beside water."  Not in water, not underwater, but beside.  Rainbows cannot happen without rain, but they don't exist to give meaning to the rain.  We'll never find an explanation of the sky inside a sunset or the reason for trees written within their colorful fall leaves. They are a singular revelation in nature, but their co-existence can unveil a depth of creation.  So too the storm will always be part of our story: grief that exists beside us -with us- but doesn't overshadow us forever.  And our Rennie Lynne will not be without sorrow of her own, stormy parts of HER story.  But living beside water -weathering a thunderstorm- does NOT mean we have to drown in it.  Those experiences don't have to define us IF we define them.  Perhaps we can shine a little brighter, feel a little deeper, and see a little clearer because of enduring upheaval.  Because we came out the other side, carrying a pool of tears in our pocket.  Because we hold suffering beside us still, acknowledging both the rainbows and the rain.