Handmade byMindy

handmade with love


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A personal note from me

I’ve been gone a while.  We did a couple of shows in California & had a great vacation in the middle.  Amidst all of that, however, we have had some very real sadness in our lives & I want to share it with you. I feel it’s important that I have an honest relationship with my readers. So here it is…

My miscarriage

Why are there certain topics that we just don’t talk about?  Is it a self-imposed silence? Or are we hesitant because we don’t want to bring others down? Is it that we don’t want to have to respond to a million questions? Maybe we don’t want to receive sympathy?

But sometimes you just want to say what you’ve been going through, without any responsibility to respond to people’s comments, just because you feel like you aren’t being your true self if you don’t put it out there. You want to dump your feelings on everyone else, so they can know & understand why you are the way you are right now. But you definitely don’t want to talk about it.

Do I sound conflicted? I am.

Last Tuesday Kyle & I went in for an ultrasound to get our due date. We were so excited! We were going to see our little nugget for the first time. The technician came in & started.  She showed us the fetal sac & that it had implanted where it was supposed to. Because I have a tilted uterus, she had to switch to a different type of ultrasound to be able to see the fetus & get the needed measurements to determine our exact due date.  At this point everything was fine. We were even more excited! We were about to see the little collection of cells that next year would be a baby & even more excitedly we were going to see it’s microscopic heart beating.

Once the tech started the 2nd ultrasound, she got very quiet. There was not a heartbeat, and we were definitely far enough along that there should have been.  The fetal sac was measuring 3 weeks smaller than it should have been. Our nugget had died… and my body had not recognized this.

The next 10 minutes felt like days.  They had to continue to take so many pictures & measurements. Then we had to wait for a doctor to come talk to us. I don’t know how long it was, but it was an impossible amount of time.

I don’t remember Wednesday at all. I know I was at home & dealing with hospitals & insurance & HSAs, but I simply don’t remember any of it.

Thursday I had surgery to remove the tissue since my body wasn’t taking care of it on its own.

After the surgery & the following day, I felt pretty good. I had this great sense of relief & only very minor physical discomfort. I kept thinking, “Oh, this is going to be easier than I thought”.  Ha! That was short lived.  There is nothing easy about this. These are waters I could have never imagined having to navigate. Even though I had read the books, the articles, the stats, I never really thought this would be me. I thought for some reason the universe would spare me from pain like this. From the moment I knew I was pregnant I had begged & bargained with the universe to not put me in this situation. It was one that I just knew I could not survive.

The universe betrayed me. My body betrayed me.

Saturday I entered the darkness of the situation emotionally. Tuesday I entered it physically.

I have serious self-doubt. I can’t stop this feeling of failure. From the minute I saw the 2 pink lines, it became my job to provide a hospitable environment for nugget. It was my job to protect it. I failed at this. It doesn’t matter what anyone says to me. You cannot convince me otherwise. I know that it was something chromosomal, out of my control. But I still failed. I will know this for the rest of my life.

I am pissed at the world! It is unusually cruel that the girl that makes baby shoes, is not going to have this baby of her own. This ordeal has made me HATE my business. Resent it even. I can’t go in my studio. I can’t face it. And I have a large amount of orders to make. It is cruel. I used to have so much joy in that studio, and this has robbed me of that. It makes me sad. And it makes me so angry. Universe, I’m pointing at you. Everything that had joy just over a week ago, doesn’t right now. Music, the sun, the gorgeous weather, my dog, a good meal. It all is just overcast now. I’m living in the shadow of my former self. And damn it! I’m mad about it.

I am alone. I mean, not really, my friends & family are very much there for me (those that are in the know). Kyle is definitely blowing my mind with HOW there for me he is. What I really mean by alone, is that I am not finding the type of resources/support that I am looking for. In all of that big world wide web, no one has put out there what I need. I desperately wanted to find a charitable cause that is a source of support for others that are going through what I am (as well as support women with any type of fertility issue, who have had a still birth, list goes on), so that I could donate money from the sales of all my baby shoes. It’s the only way that I can conceive of to start making them again. Everything I find is all about angel babies, or getting a piece of jewelry to commemorate, or having a memorial.  This is not my style. This is not comforting to me. I completely understand that it is for many people, and I am not in any way knocking them or their methods for grieving. All I’m saying is that seemingly there is no one else out there like me. This is why I feel so alone.

I am afraid. I am so afraid. I’m scared that I did something to deserve this. I’m scared that I can’t think of what that thing was that set my karma so far astray, but if I did it to you, please know I’m sorry. I am afraid to try again. Terrified really. What if this happens again? Am I strong enough to get through it? I certainly don’t feel like I am now. I have this constant feeling that this is ruining my life. Temporarily it is true, but I’m afraid that it is forever. I am afraid of failing again. I am afraid of the million other possible outcomes that trying again could present. I am afraid of how this is hurting my husband. He is being strong for me & supporting me, but when will enough be enough? Will his loving patience run out? He assures me it will not. I trust him. I am afraid that seeing other people’s children will always cause me pain. Please don’t take that the wrong way, I am so overwhelmingly happy for other people, nothing could change that. Please hug your small ones tight! It’s just that in this season of my life I know that I cannot hide that it hurts that I’m not where I thought I was. My train has derailed. I’m afraid of what is happening to me physically right now. I was afraid of the surgery. I’m afraid of my next craft fair. You wouldn’t believe how many people have chosen me to be the first person to know that they are expecting as they excitedly choose a gender neutral pair of shoes to be the first thing they buy for their upcoming addition. Will they sense all of the emotions it will bring up in me? Will they steer clear of me because I’m exuding some sort of I can’t be as happy for you outwardly as I truly am? Will I just be a puddle of sloshy crying mush the entire time? Will every stroller that enters my booth send me into a fit? Will I sink to a place darker than where I am now? Is there enough alcohol in Chicago to get me through it? (Joking! Sort of) It’s terrifying! I’m afraid that I’m letting people down while I’m grieving & healing. I’m afraid that I will never be happy again. This sadness feels so deep & unending. And honestly, I’m afraid of feeling better. I can’t explain this one. I guess I just know that this has changed me & feeling better will never be feeling how I felt before any of this happened. IT will be different & I am afraid of change.

I am in pain. Physically, spiritually, and emotionally. Sometimes only in one area, other times all 3 at once. It’s a build your own entree combo right now. I’d rather have a cheese enchilada, a chicken soft taco & a flauta, hold the beans please. Oh, you’re out of that? Fine, shit soup sounds fine. That’s what I’ll have. Who cares! I don’t really think I need to explain this one. Most of the painful things are covered in other paragraphs. It’s mostly just an honorable mention. I’m sure the pain will subside as the other areas are sorted out.

I have tremendous guilt. I feel guilty that any of this happened. I feel guilty because at times I find myself wishing that none of it had happened. I feel guilty because we let some of our family know about the excitement, and now their hearts are broken too. I feel guilty because those closest to me want desperately to be able to fix this, and they can’t. I feel guilty because I am treating people coldly. It’s not them, it’s me. I promise. I just can’t be me right now. I can’t smile at you in the hall. I’m sorry. I feel guilt because there are so many other people who I care about deeply & who care for me too, that I hadn’t let in on this sooner, that are finding this out via my blog or social media (or wherever I have chosen to finally post this). I wanted to let everyone know, but it was too soon. Please don’t take it personally, it in no way reflects on our relationship. It really is me, not you.

I am grateful. I am grateful that those in the know have shown an amazing outpouring of love & support to Kyle & I. The friends & family that know what has happened have been patient with me & have given me as much or as little space as I have asked for. They have loved me & prayed for me and sent me positive healing energy & said a million right things & a million wrong things, but I’m just grateful that they are talking, because I can see how much they care. I am grateful that Kyle has been my everything through this. He keeps reminding me that everything will be alright. He has sat with me in bed for days & days so I wouldn’t be alone. He has cooked for me & cleaned & bought me cookies. He has been so patient & kind & gentle. He’s listened while I’ve said anything & everything that I needed to. He’s let me cry on his shoulder, for hours if I needed to. He’s given me the biggest warmest hugs I’ve ever felt. He has been strong, even when he was feeling broken too. He’s shared his feelings with me, openly & honestly. It’s nice to know you aren’t the only broken one. And I’m grateful that he encouraged me to write this. I feel myself heal just a little with every word that I type (I have also felt what a sloshy tear soaked keyboard feels like under my fingertips). I am grateful that the outcome of all this wasn’t worse. My surgery went well, and I will heal both physically & emotionally (not as quickly as I would prefer, but it is what it is). And if you are taking the time to read this, I am grateful for you. Having someone else in the universe know what I am experiencing makes me less alone. It makes anyone who has been through this less alone. Thank you. When I feel like seeing people again, I have a big hug waiting for you.

Why am I writing this?

I am writing this because I think that people shouldn’t feel that they cannot share the negative in their life. I am writing this because 1 in 4 known pregnancies result in a miscarriage, which means you undoubtedly know someone that has been through this (whether you are aware of it or not). Wouldn’t you want to know if you someone you cared for was suffering this? Wouldn’t you want the ability to hug them & tell them something/anything/even if it’s the wrong thing? Wouldn’t you want to be able to grieve with them/for them? I know I would. 

I’m breaking this silence. Silence is too lonely. Silence is isolating. Silence infers some sort of shameful secret, which there is no shame in this. There should never be shame in this. I am a statistic. I am 1 out of 4. There is no shame in that. And I know that I am truly not alone (hello to every other 1 out of 4 out there). 

I am also sharing this because I feel that I owe it to the people in my life to let them know openly & honestly why the next time they see me, I will be different. I am forever changed from this experience. Hopefully I will not dwell in the darkness of this for much longer, however I am there now & if you encounter me now, you will certainly know that something is wrong. I’m not ready to talk about it (please note writing & talking are two very different things), so you won’t know why. I will try to pretend that everything is fine. I am, in fact, a terrible actor.

I hope that this will reach someone & help them. Let them know that all the things they are feeling are ok & nothing to be ashamed of. I hope it gives someone the courage to openly express something they have been made to feel should be a secret, or private, or kept to themselves.  We are all in this life together (regardless of race, religion, or lack thereof). We share this experience & each bring our own unique “us-ness” to it, changing the overall experience in some small way for everyone else we encounter. We should stand tall & be exactly who we are in the most honest form possible. We owe it to ourselves & we owe it to each other, especially in this highly staged instatweetedfacepalmed life we are living. Let’s share our ugly, our tired, our sadness, our pain, our successes, our happiness! Let’s share it all! If you feel safer using the Nashville filter to do so, do it! SO long as your message is 100% you! Life is too short to waste time making sure that everything is staged perfectly before we share it! Let’s share our messes! And let’s support each other while we clean them up, no matter how long it takes.

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