Sharing my heart today feels like walking through a field of vulnerability. Opening up about the shadows is hard, but I believe in shedding light on them. Let’s talk about the tough stuff – because in sharing, we weave a tapestry of support for those enduring the unimaginable.🫂🤍 Trigger Warning, I’ll be talking about miscarriage❤️🩹.
I remember taking this picture above almost 4 years ago, a snapshot of hope, only to face heartbreak an hour later; I lost my unborn baby. At nine weeks, my world crumbled. Had I kept the news to myself, my grief might have been a silent scream. Thankfully, I wasn’t alone, supported by loved ones through that darkest chapter.
This application picture was taken just an hour before the loss of my unborn baby, a week before COVID lock downs, and a month before my jewelry dream seemed to crumble with a rejection from a coveted art festival. That week was a tempest, taking with it my baby, my sense of connection, and my dream all at once.
But from that dark storm came a quiet resolve. Amidst the grief and the challenge of homeschooling through a global pause, I found my footing again. My spirit, though tested, was unbroken. I rediscovered my path in trying again and nurturing my craft and soul.
Here I am, 4 years later, the heart whole with my rainbow baby’s laughter, my hands busy with a thriving jewelry business, and my inbox holding an acceptance letter to that once elusive Anacortes Art Festival.
This tale of mine is a true testament to resilience, rising from the depths to the relentless pursuit of dreams. To anyone out there feeling beaten down, remember that your dreams aren’t just fleeting shadows. They’re seeds waiting for the right season to sprout. 🌱
I’m beyond excited to share my art and story in the Pacific Northwest, starting with the Anacortes Art Festival this August. This is just the beginning.
