A letter to my customers; A letter to my followers; A letter to grieving mothers.

I want to write a letter to you. I want to share myself a bit more with the world that I find myself surrounded in. Miscarriage and child/loss ... wow ... most of the time I don't know what to say.

You all write to me. You tell me your stories. You comment on my instagram posts. You buy my jewelry. I don't want to be seen as an authority in child/loss. My experience seems so small compared to most. My biggest aim was to give women a voice. To tell them that their children meant something and still does. I must make you feel safe, because you all write to me.

I remember a while ago ... over 3 years ... I lost my twins and I couldn't feel anything. I didn't cry much and I didn't laugh. You see I had already lost Michael and before that, Adam. I actually expected to miscarry again. It had been a long year of trying and I didn't want to be disappointed or hurt like I did with Michael. Well, that year I had met 3 women and we formed a bond that I can hardly describe. We are sisters and probably always will be. I bring them up because they carried me through my miscarriages. They felt everything that I couldn't feel for myself. They cursed, threw phones, cried and held me when I told them about the little girls that I lost. And during my son's successful pregnancy and birth, they felt every joy and happiness that I couldn't feel as well.

So ten months ago I started this journey with you all. I posted a giveaway and now I find myself writing about grief day in and day out, crying through story after story. I lose sleep over your pain. I feel it deeply. I hug my children more and I kiss them often because of you. I'm not always strong and I break down often.

But I look back over this year and I see that roles have been changed. I grieve for you all in ways I didn't necessarily grieve over my own losses. I cry for you and pray for you. I hope you get to hold a child one day and once I got to hear the good news that a women did give birth since I gave her a necklace. What joy! I am not just the hands that make beautiful things. I am not the black and white message that replied to your story. I carry you with me. I carry your grief and loss and hopefully take a little off of your shoulders so that you can see hope. It is a joy to serve you all. Thank you for reading.

Me and my good friends the day after my son was born. 

Hard Questions and Sleepless Nights

Oh, Lord, my heart is breaking. Every day I hear new stories of mothers who have lost their children. The hardest to hear are the ones that are lost outside of the womb. A woman wrote to me about her friend who lost a 17 month child to meningitis and a woman I follow on Instagram lost her only son at 14 months. He just never woke up one morning.

Lord, I admit, I am terrified to lose my living children. I go to bed every night and pray and pray that I can see my children the next morning. I fight the urge to sleep next to my little ones just so I can sleep hearing them breathe. Weekly, I cry thinking about how I would feel if I lost either of them.

Where is your hope and comfort? I don't want to fight death. I fought you so hard when I miscarried over and over again. I fight you all the time, but I want to be at peace. I want to sleep at night. I want to offer comfort to all of these women who come to me and share their broken stories. I'm hurting so much for the world ...

 ... and I am filled with guilt for my harshness to my son. I am so hard on him sometimes  most of the time. I try to apologize, but when I lay down to sleep, I wish I never was harsh in the first place. Why can't I love my children better? Why do children die? Why is your world so broken? Lord, please be present. Please return and defeat death once and for all. I am longing for you and for the hope only you can give. Please hear my prayer ...

... And please keep my children safe ...