Where are they now: After the loss of a child, Hilton Head mom learns to love again -- and again
ABOUT THIS SERIES
This week, The Island Packet is updating readers on the most interesting people -- and animals -- introduced during the past year.
In our fifth installment, we check in with Brian and Heather Quinn, parents of a "Rainbow Baby," born after the loss of their first child, Harper, when she was just 12 hours old.
WHEN WE INTRODUCED THEM: March 22, 2015
WHERE WE LEFT THEM: Heather Quinn and her husband, Brian, welcomed their rainbow baby Ella Grace in June 2013 -- a little more than a year after losing their infant daughter Harper. The couple were working to embrace their new role as parents while still grieving for the loss of their first child.
WHAT'S CHANGED: On Nov. 16, the couple welcomed new daughter, Rose Amelia Quinn.
Ella Grace, 2, disappears under the coffee table, then pops up with a pacifier in her hand.
A big smile appears under her mop of curls as she proudly holds out her find to her mother.
"Is that paci for baby Rose?" mom Heather Quinn asks from her perch on the couch. "Can you bring it over here to the baby?" she asks, adjusting Rose, just 3 weeks old, to accept her big sister's gift.
Juggling a new baby and a toddler is now a daily routine for Quinn, 34, of Hilton Head Island.
But a few years ago, such a happy domestic scene seemed unimaginable.
Quinn and her husband Brian Quinn lost their first born, Harper, just 12 hours after the birth in 2012.
Still grieving the loss of the first child, Heather Quinn became pregnant again. A little more than a year after losing Harper, she gave birth to Ella Grace in a fit of tears and fear that something might go wrong with that baby, too.
But it did not. Ella Grace was perfectly healthy and officially a rainbow baby -- a term used to describe children born shortly after a stillbirth, late-term miscarriage or loss of a child.
In March, The Island Packet and The Beaufort Gazette chronicled Heather Quinn's life as a new mom, reveling in her new maternal role while also coping with the loss of her first child.
Since the story, the Quinn's family has grown with Rose's arrival on Nov. 16.
Most days, Heather is too busy to dwell on losing Harper. There's baby Rose to change, feed and burp while simultaneously entertaining Ella Grace with coloring books, a new tricycle and the play set in the backyard. And while Heather is technically on maternity leave, she stops by her clothing boutique, Louette's, on Hilton Head Island, for an hour or so every day.
"I don't have time to think about much of anything," she said with a tired smile.
But there are those quiet moments when she feels it -- the pain of losing Harper. It sits like a rock in her stomach. Its rough edges have been worn smooth from her frequent remembering, making it bearable.
"I've realized that this is something I'll just have to live with," she said. "You never completely get over losing a child."
The passing of time has helped. Every memory following Harper's death is no longer shrouded in despair.
For instance, she and Brian can now chuckle at the memory of him ripping the house's doorbell out of the wall.
Its electronic bark had made Heather jump each time UPS delivered flowers and condolence packages following Harper's death. "I just can't take it," she whimpered to him.
So he retrieved the ladder from the garage and tore it from the wall.
Life continues to bring little reminders, too, of their firstborn. Rose's shock of dark hair immediately reminded them of Harper's.
And there was that night in the hospital shortly after Rose was born. She had been crying and temporarily lost coloring in her face. For a moment, she looked so much like Harper that Heather forgot to breathe.
Growing her family has galvanized Heather's charitable work, helping others who have lost children.
The nonprofit she and Brian started to raise money to offset funeral expenses for parents who have lost children younger than age 2 -- named The Harper Project -- has joined forces with the national nonprofit, TEARS Foundation. Now, Heather's volunteers who help arrange infant funerals receiving bereavement training.
And Heather's support group meetings for parents who have lost small children still happen bi-monthly.
Heather stopped attending the meetings when she was 8 months pregnant with Rose, fearing her swollen belly might upset prospective members of the group.
"You never know who is going to show up for one of the meetings, in need of help," she said. "I didn't want a mom who had just lost a baby to see me."
And yet, needy mothers find her just the same.
Shortly after the newspaper story ran, an email from a woman in her 80s popped into Heather's inbox. The woman had a secret to confess. She had lost a baby decades earlier and had never spoke to anyone about it outside of her family. Instead, she had pushed the memory down as she and her husband went on to have three healthy children.
Reading Heather's story in the newspaper made the older woman realize that others grieved too -- for a lifetime.
Heather nodded as she read the fellow mother's words.
"Yes," she said. "That's the point of why I do this."
Follow editor Gina Smith at twitter.com/GinaNSmith.
Previously reported:
March 22, 2015 They're called rainbow babies, children born shortly after a stillbirth, late-term miscarriage or loss of a child. Women have been having rainbow babies for generations, but it's a different experience in the 21st century | READ
This story was originally published December 10, 2015 at 4:59 PM with the headline "Where are they now: After the loss of a child, Hilton Head mom learns to love again -- and again."