This is the story of two mothers' love. It's also the story of how something wonderful n a thriving new business n rose from the chaos of lives turned upside down by unspeakable grief.

In 1999, Dana Rainwater's life was in high gear. She was a mother of one, with another baby on the way, and flourishing in her fast-paced job as an advertising account manager.

"I was a total career gal," Rainwater says.

Then news came. Rainwater's new baby suffered from anencephaly, a neural tube defect disorder. Infants with this disorder are born without a forebrain n blind, deaf and with no possibility of ever gaining consciousness.

The baby, named Summer, died a few hours after being born.

"It really turned my world around," Rainwater says. "After the funeral, I realized I couldn't go back to work, not in the same way."

"I wasn't the same person anymore," she says simply.

A few months later, the baby sitter for her older daughter Avery quit.

"Someone was trying to tell me something," Rainwater says.

"I quit my job," she continues. "I was totally running with my instinct."

The next day, she found out she was pregnant again.

As part of a healing process, Rainwater reached back to her childhood. "When I was a kid," Rainwater says, "I was always doing art projects."

She made a memorial box for Summer. "It really helped," Rainwater says. "I used my hands but also my heart."

Chase was born almost a year after Summer died.

"I started calling him ‘Bug,'" Rainwater says. "He was so energetic and wiry."

Rainwater was still healing. "I was so paranoid about everything that could go wrong," she says.

One thing that worried her was a stringy old cloth diaper Chase clung as a security blanket. "I was scared he could get tangled in it," she says.

Rainwater's mom, Pam Tucci, came to the rescue. Once a talented seamstress, Tucci volunteered to get her sewing machine out of the attic and come up with a new "blankie" for Chase.

Rainwater warmed to the idea. "I wanted it to express our family's individuality," she says. Her husband Tim is an avid sportsman. "I chose an outdoorsy fabric," she says. She and her mom added soft, textured fabrics to the underside and a satin binding."

"It was more than a blanket," Rainwater says. "It was a piece of art."

"We made it, he loved it and I was like, ‘Okay that's it,'" Rainwater recalls.

But that wasn't it, not by a long shot.

Friends kept asking where she got Chase's remarkable blanket.

And then, one day, Rainwater and her mom browsed a Chicagonarea boutique with Chase in tow. The shop owner, too, was entranced with the blanket.

"I love the concept and the way you put it together," the shop owner said. "Can you make up 12 for my store?"

Rainwater shot a look at her wide-eyed mother.

"Yes," she told the shopkeeper.

"On the way home, my mom was like, ‘Dana, what's going on?'" Rainwater recalls.

Rainwater told her she didn't know but she added, "Mom, this could be this thing where we design these for people."

They gabbed, excitedly, all the way home.

"Those first 12 blankets took us a month," Rainwater remembers. "When it came time to deliver them I thought, she's going to think it's tacky if I just send these. I gotta come up with a business name."

She thought. It had all began with Chase, her "bug."

She came up with a business name n bug-a-boo baby. She sketched a logo, a charming but simple bug, on a pea green background ("not girl, not boy, not pastel"). The blankets sold quickly.

The store owner called her back. "Could you do some coordinates like burp cloths and bibs?"

Rainwater and Tucci responded. They picked fresh, original fabrics. Some were vintage, decidedly "un-baby." Details such as ribbon trim, monograms and appliqués were carefully designed.

"In the baby market, no one was doing color like that," Rainwater says.

Her new business, bug-a-boo baby, was off and running.

She and Tucci came up with custom diaper bags (and then totes) that were made with a variety of unusual fabrics, each selected by the customer. New moms often wanted a changing blanket and other items, all coordinated.

Soon, fabric samples were crowding the Rainwater's out of their home.

"We rented a business suite to give us more room," Rainwater says.

Customers kept coming. All had learned about bug-a-boo baby through word of mouth.

Rainwater added four seamstresses to give her mom some relief.

Last year, Rainwater moved into a sunny showroom/design studio near Landmark Drive in Normal.

"The bags really caught on," Rainwater says. She's still doing the baby products but also designing more and more handbags and totes. The "Roxxy Lou," a reversible hobo purse with a jeweled handle, co-designed with Bloomington jeweler Stacy Winkler, has been a particularly hot seller that may be marketed nationally.

Rainwater keeps some already made-up items in the store for sale but most customers make an appointment to individually design their choice. The shop is open by appointment, but Rainwater encourages browsers to call ahead and see if she's there or to check out her Web site at www.bugaboobaby.com. The phone number is (309) 862-2847.

On one cold December day, Stacy Niepagen, a Unit 5 schoolteacher on maternity leave, bursts into bug-a-boo baby with newborn Isabel in tow.

"I registered here before Isabel was born," Niepagen says. She has a diaper bag loaded with coordinated accessories for Isabel.

"I'm a mod mom," Niepagen says. "I love this place because it's different, funky. I've sent tons of my friends here."

Niepagen is in to pick up a tote for her mom's birthday gift. "Mom fell in love with my sister's diaper bag," she explains.

Niepagen points to her own bag.

"Everyone asks me, where'd you get that? I tell them I would have paid $150 to $200 for it but it was only $75."

"I try to price for the Bloomington market," Rainwater explains.

Rainwater coos over Isabel. "This business is so much my passion, I can't even tell you," she says. Her eyes cloud with tears. "Summer is the spirit behind all this," she continues, "and this way I can be involved with other babies."

"As bad as that time was, a lot of good has come of it," Rainwater concludes. "It got me in touch with who I am."