Showing posts with label miscarriage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label miscarriage. Show all posts

Sunday, 14 August 2016

Don't Judge a Book by its Cover

These past weeks have been tough (yesterday was one month since our loss), and only in the last few days have I even got back to doing some kind of sewing, however simple. (Meanwhile, the boys are happy with the curtains I made for their room, and the decorative pillow cases I made for our bed look very nice. It’s good to sew again.) I know there has been lots of Harry Potter related posts lately, but really, except for feverishly organising my house, that’s been pretty much all I’ve felt up to. Of course, Halloween is creeping up on us, so that is another reason. Bear with me, I’ll get back to historical sewing eventually.


As I was going through my stuff, organising and purging, I came upon a tiny book, you know the kind you’ll be given as a present, filled with quotes on certain topics, which you end up never reading after that first time. Well, as this one had been in a box for five years or so, I saw no reason to hold on to it as it was, but thought the cover might be of some use for my annual Halloween party. Just a note to all the book lovers out there: this was a contemporary book with thousands of exact copies, it was never a great contribution to the world and won’t be missed. I’d never destroy a book of value.
It was clear that I would re-cover the book, and that the pages wouldn’t be needed. I carefully cut them out, then looked for a suitable paper for the book I had in mind among my scrapbooking supplies, and came up with one that almost had the look of cracked leather. Perfect. 

Unfortunately I forgot to take a ‘before’ picture, but you can clearly see on this look at the inside that the book has a new cover. I messed up a bit, and the corners ended up too short; however, I saved that situation later. 


I had decided on a title early on: Tinctures: The Tiny Tome. I messed up again when writing the title, and I used a ‘k’ instead of a ‘c’. That’s what happens when English is not your primary language, you work on things that require thinking too late at night and don’t double check the spelling. Ah well, maybe the book was produced by a foreign publisher? I pencilled the title and frame first, then filled them in with gold pen. After the ink had dried, I traced the title and frame with a knitting needle, to make shallow indentations which made it feel more like a real book. 


I was very happy with the result, but then I started thinking… Instead of only using this as a prop, what if I actually made it into a real book – a guestbook? I like the idea of a tiny guestbook, as I never know what to write in the full sized ones. 
I cut out pages from tea dyed printing paper. One paper gave ten pieces, twenty pages when folded in half. I used three sheets of paper, as sixty pages sounded like a good number. 


The different sheets had slightly different shades, as I didn’t time how long each one was in the tea. To avoid this being too obvious, and giving a more natural look to the pages, I mixed them up.
I organised the folded-in-half pages in groups of five, then I made holes in them in preparation for sewing them together.


Sewing book pages together is really very fun to do. My husband (who is interested in bookbinding) and I agreed that someday we’d like to take a class to learn it properly. As I’m not a pro at this, I’ll refer you to the blog post from where I learned how to do it, by Making My Rent. I managed to pull too sharply at the thread when attaching the second group of pages, and broke them. Boo. Fifty pages seemed too few, didn’t fill the book up enough at all, so I decided to make new ones. Rather than having half a sheet of paper left, I used a full one, and ended up with a total of seventy pages. Much better.


The rest of the sewing went smoothly, and the result looked rather neat. “Too bad no one will see it”, was hubby’s reaction, but that’s what blogs are for.


I sort of followed the steps of the tutorial, gluing the spine, gluing on thin fabric – I didn’t have the proper material (scrim?) for this, so had to pick something from the fabric stash. And here’s another of those moments when you’re glad you have a blog – doesn’t the stars seem like a typically wizardy thing to have? It will never show, but I’m sort of pleased they’re there. 


I glued on a narrow satin ribbon that would be the bookmarker, and then a wider satin ribbon as headbands.


I glued in the pages, attached the endpapers covering the insides of the book and let the book dry under a heavy cookbook. This is where I saved the mistake I made earlier, by gluing the papers rather closer to the edges than I would otherwise have done. I trimmed the endpapers a bit, and that was that! 


A small book, decoration and guestbook in one, perfect for my annual Harry Potter inspired Halloween party. My kids are looking forward to draw in it, for of course children will be as welcome to sign it as adults.


What do you think of guestbooks, love them or hate them?

Monday, 1 August 2016

Doing So-So

I didn’t mean to post this at first, but reading the accounts of other mothers who have been through miscarriages has been helpful to me, so I thought I’d share it after all. Maybe someone will find this helpful. 


Grief is an interesting thing. Sometimes you can think about or talk very calmly and sensibly about your feelings and what you've been through, and feel almost fine. You might even pursue your ordinary interests with joy. At other times the smallest thing can make you cry or ache inside, you can loose your appetite from time to time, and find yourself unable to do things. The curtains I was working on for the boys' room have, regrettably, been untouched for three weeks, but the Halloween decorations are progressing nicely... playing is just so much easier than working right now, so work that is not strictly necessary gets shoved aside

Watching my children play is usually a source of joy, but then one day it made me cry - the baby I lost will never run around and play, at least not in this mortal world. I miss the wonderful person it could have been, the cuddles I'll never get.
 
 Finding a pair of baby mittens I knitted before Eldest was born didn't bother me at all, but finding a pair of tiny white baby socks in a cupboard made me go to pieces.
 Gentle words, hugs and acts of  kindness makes me cry, yet I appreciate that people care about me. 


 The fact that my brother and sister in law are expecting around the same time my due date should have been – once a very exciting coincidence - is now mainly a reminder of my own loss. Her bump is so cute, and I’m sad about the fact that I can’t rejoice with them like I would have liked.

That it was most likely something seriously wrong with the poor wee thing and that what happened was probably for the best is a comfort only on an intellectual plane. Emotionally it doesn't matter a jot. As soon as I saw the plus on the pregnancy test, that knot of cells had a place in my heart, and hopes and dreams for what I already considered to be my child were formed, and they deepened and increased as the weeks and months passed. You can't just toss all that out the window, no matter how sensible the reasoning.

"Grief is the price of love" - even if the object of your love was only a few inches long when it was lost to you.

Saturday, 16 July 2016

A Pregnancy Remembrance Pendant

I have always turned to crafts when I’ve felt down for whatever reason – well, when I’m happy too, but crafting somehow acts in a healing way for me. Usually it's something textile, but this time I felt like making a thing I could wear that let me speak my loss without being too obvious or in-your-face. I looked online for inspiration and then looked through my rather limited stash of jewellery making supplies.


This is what I made: a simple pendant (jewellery making is not my forte) with a blue glass bead for each of my sons, and a white glass bead for the unknown little one that I’d already made room for in my heart but never got to hold. It’s discreet enough not to cause comment, but it means something to me, and I felt good while making it. 

Friday, 15 July 2016

Miscarriage

Yesterday I wrote this on my Facebook page, but thought I'd share it here as well so that the lack of baby posts in future will not cause comment.
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Last night I suffered a miscarriage that ended with me being rushed off to theatre to stop a very heavy bleeding. I had two units of blood during the night, and though I feel like if I have been punched all over and is very tired and rather weak, I'm physically mostly all right now, considering the circumstances. We are of course very sad that this happened, and I've had episodes of crying between periods of calm. I was so looking forward to this baby, and had just started to feel safe from miscarriage. I was in week 13+5.

At the same time I feel grateful. Grateful for modern medicine that made it possible for me to come home to my family again - a hundred years ago, or in some other parts of today's world, I would have died.
Grateful for in-laws that jumped in the car to come to our aid the moment they heard what was going on, and stayed and helped with the children for a night and a day.
Grateful for the friend that showed up after just a few minutes to drive me to the hospital, when Tobias had to stay with the children until relieved by the babysitters, and stayed with me until I was rolled into theatre.
Grateful for the managers at Tobias' work, that without hesitation gave him two days paid leave to care for me and the children.
Grateful for the friends that have dropped off flowers, dinners, chocolate, condolences, offers and promises of further help and other nice things.
Grateful for my husband, so supporting, loving, comforting and helpful, even in his own fog of tiredness and sadness.
Grateful that I have two beautiful children, to make me smile and feel happiness in spite of my grief.

Still, I hope that I never have to experience this again. Now, chocolate. Lots of it.