Lets go back in time. I always considered myself a creative person. A person who loved to paint, sketch, and make crafts just for fun. Sewing was included but mainly doing alterations to my clothes and sew crafts items. I didn’t think I was really good at anything. I just had this desire of making things with my hands. So I did. My husband and I got married and knew we wanted to start a family right away. Well nothing happened for a couple of month and went to the doctor to ask why? The doctor told me usually they have patients try to conceive for a year before even considering testing you.
A year past … nothing. Went back to the doctor and they tested. There was something wrong. It had to do with me. Type 2 PCOS. During this time I worked full time and put school on the back burner. My heart wasn’t into it, all I wanted to be was a mom. I coped with the sadness by painting a lot and focusing on my pets like they were my children. I felt alone, no one in my circle of friends had dealt with infertility.
The infertility story is a long one so I won’t get into details on this post. It took 4 years and three miscarriages to bring our first baby into the world. I was so happy that ALL my focus was to be the best mother I could possibly be. I think looking back I probably was trying to prove that I was worthy enough to be a mom. I donated all my paints and craft supplies because they were not being used and we needed the room.
Fast forward a couple of years and I was that stay at home mom that did everything I thought a stay at home mom/wife does. Run the house like no other. I did everything. Pfff I still do HAHAHA! We wanted another child. I still needed to go through fertility treatments to conceive. Shortly we were able to find out we had conceived again! I was so over the moon.
Then around 22 weeks we found out that our baby girl has a congenital heart defect. PA-IVS for sure but unknown what else since its so hard to see a babies heart in depth while in utero. When I say my world crashed, my world really felt like it collapsed on me and I couldn’t breathe. Especially when the all the doctors explain to you the possibilities and prepare you for the worst case.
Details on that whole journey will definitely be told another time because I learned so many life lessons through that time it should have its own story. Forget about me and my wants at this time. There was absolutely no creative outlet during this time. Every waking hour was spent trying to survive. I was in a dark hole on my knees praying. Two open heart surgeries later and long recovery back to normal my baby girl was home. I think I traumatized by the whole thing that I didn’t want to leave my kids ever. Even leaving for a girls brunch for an hour was really out of the question. Forget about anything creative for me.
One day I remembered something had to be mended on the kids clothes. So I went to the garage and pulled out my very old sewing machine to fix it. I Youtubed a tutorial to research on other ways to do it. I found this sewing world had its own space. I felt like someone took a lit match and lit the wick of my creativity into this world. This mama found herself again. This mama who once loved creating things died and was given life again. Lets just say I discovered there was a bigger creative person in me that I didn’t know existed until now.