This might be an odd post to start back with, but I figured I should start somewhere.
I’ve heard people say that plants embody your emotions. They show, physically, how you feel emotionally. If that is true, my ficus really gets it. This is pretty much what I feel like after having 4 miscarriages in just over a year. The last one just a month ago, yesterday.
Today happens to be a fairly good day. I’m still holding onto a little high from Sunday, when I sang in my first choral concert in almost a decade. I really missed singing. I’ve actually gotten some things accomplished as well, which is more than I can say for most of 2014. I took this cute picture of my little Lacey with my new dslr camera:
I got my first new listing up on Etsy since early December. I used to get a new listing up almost everyday or at least one a week, but motivation has simply waned. I am also cooking some chickpeas and getting the laundry done today, but this statement from this pin is how I feel most of the time…
Sorry to be a downer, but when you are at the bottom you have to start from somewhere and I figure sharing my struggles is the first step to leaving the emotional cave I’ve gone into.
I know there are many who have gone through similar situations. Please feel to share any stories in the comments.
Mandy C.
McCloud Designs 
Beautiful Mandy,
My heart aches for you. Thank you for the vulnerability and strength you so graciously embody in this post. Pain and loss so often cause me to lash out or implode. Thank you for the example of how to acknowledge reality and continue on.
Your friend and admirer,
ShannonMykel
Thanks dear.
Love you Mandy. Thanks for sharing. Sorry from the bottom of my heart you’re dealing with this.
Mandy,
So sorry that you have gone through this. I lost my first baby at twelve weeks…After a baby shower given by my coworkers and on the day the truck was loaded to move across the country. That was 20 years ago, and I still think about it on that day. It does get a little easier, but it still hurts. Just know that you are not alone in this. I sincerely hope that you will find peace and joy. And that you WILL be blessed with a bundle of love. Hugs!
Thanks for sharing your story. That must have been a very difficult move clouded with grieving. I love these babies so much that it only makes sense to feel the pain 20 years down the road. I’m sorry we had to connect through pain, but I’m glad we connected.
Mandy,
I am so sorry that you have gone through this. I lost our first baby at 12 weeks…2 days after a baby shower given by my coworkers, and on the day that the truck was loaded to move across the country. That was 20 years ago, and I still remember every year on that day. It gets a little easier, but it still hurts. Know that you are not alone in this. I sincerely hope that you can find peace and joy. And that you WILL be blessed with a bundle of love. God Bless you, sweetie!
Your Ficus Alli is a part of things past. Your Lacey is a part of things to come.
You are right dear.
Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry. I know you’ve probably heard that too many times, but I truly mean it (as I’m sure everyone you’ve heard it from previously meant it as well!). I experienced a miscarriage on December 30th and it still hurts.
I went over to your Etsy shop and see that you work with polymer clay. Random, but I work with clay as well! I make figurines and ornaments though. Your work is beautiful! I hope that you find a little peace while you’re crafting.
We (sadly) have a third commonality as well. I have a plant that’s feeling my husband and I’s pain too, apparently. The leaves will not stop falling off of this thing! I’m not green-thumb-gifted, so I don’t know how to help him. It’s so depressing to look at it!
Wishing you all the best,
B.
Thanks for sharing. December was so recent, so ‘still hurts’ seems very normal to me. There is a part of me that wants to feel at least a little pain for each of my babies forever and a sign of my unending love for them.
If you are anything like me, grieving will go in waves, you will have days where it just washes over you. I have learned to just let it happen. It is going to anyway, so it hurts more to fight it. Sometimes letting it come feels so good. In the song “Angel” by Sarah Sarah McLachlan, she uses the phrase “Glorious Sadness”. This is a fantastic description of grieving pain, in my opinion.
Hugs and love you to.