rowen august kurysh

“If your heart is broken, you’ll find God right there.” Psalm 34:18

This is an incredibly hard post to write and publish. Today was the day that we were going to reveal my pregnancy to friends and followers. I would have been nearly 18 weeks pregnant. The wait for this announcement was a full month and a half longer than in my first pregnancy. I guess I wanted to relish in only us knowing, and also because I didn’t really “feel” pregnant. My symptoms weren’t nearly as strong with this baby as they were with Remy. On top of that, I had two bad ultrasounds, multiple blood tests with poor results, and bleeding. All of which led to our baby eventually dying. I have to stay positive and believe that it happened for a reason. I also have hope that God will bless us with a third and healthy child that I will be able to carry to term. If I don’t trust in these things, the pain is too much to bear.

Here are two additional quotes that have brought me some comfort.

Do you have quotes or passages that you turn to for solace?

To my sweet Rowen, I’ll always love you.

Mama

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i’m still here

Hey everyone. I wanted to check in since going silent last month.

I hope that you’ve been having a great year, as short as it’s been. January has been a bit rough for us- between my husband being gone, tragedies with his work, sicknesses in our household, and a general feeling of sadness that I just cannot shake. Ordinarily, I am not this candid on my blog. Rather, I tend to save my true feelings for Instagram. However, I thought screw it. It’s time to be honest, and stop being afraid of what people might think.

I had quite a few mothers reach out to me in my last post regarding my miscarriage. Thank you. Thank you for being brave enough to share your stories, coping mechanisms, and more. I truly feel united to you all, and wish you nothing but the best. This is a safe space for those who would like to connect and tell their truths. I support everyone who wishes to do so, and will tolerate no hatred, bullies, or trolls. If the latter relates to you, your comments will not be approved nor read by me!

Looking back through my Instagram feed, I’ve noticed that since having Remy, my face has changed. I used to be a carefree and naive girl. Now, I feel like I physically, mentally, and emotionally am so different. I’ve grown up, and as such, my appearance has matured. I no longer try to look happy and perfect in my photos, but rather, have a look of contentment and solemnity. I also seem to never look at the camera, but to focus on Remy instead. This is not forced, it is instinctive. It is motherhood.

A few weeks ago I set out to capture a few outfit photos. I used to regularly feature my outfit of the day, and I wanted to try bringing that back. After looking through the images, I saw someone I didn’t recognize. My eyes look sad, my hair is its natural dark, and my smile is contrived. The images were so raw that I considered not posting them. Then, relating back to my second paragraph, I knew that they needed to be published. This is me in pain. This is me carrying on during the day as if I didn’t lose my second child. This is me in my current state. This is me needing to change. I’m going to stop putting myself last in our family and take the time to put effort into how I think, feel, and look. I’m going to do selfish things that make me feel like a normal person again. I’m going to colour my hair, get my nails done, and return to the gym. I’m going to stop suppressing my emotions and instead let them out. I deserve these things. We all do. We shouldn’t deny ourselves of self-care. I have for 2 years now, and it’s going to stop. This death doesn’t signify an end. This is the start of something new.

What do you guys do for self-love? What brings you back to feeling normal?

Emory

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merry christmas to all

What a difference a year can make. Last year on December 25, Remy turned 10 months old. She had just gotten her first two teeth, and that morning, had learned to crawl. We were so happy. This year, we are mourning the loss of our second child. I suffered a miscarriage this month, and it has left a deep void in our family. This picture was going to be on our Christmas card where we revealed to close friends and family our joyous secret. Now, it remains one of our only photos as a family of four.

Friends, I truly, truly wish you all nothing but the best in 2018. Enjoy spending time with your loved ones, and give your children an extra hug and kiss for me tonight. You are so blessed to have them.

I will be taking a short break from blogging. Merry Christmas, everyone.

All my love,

Emory

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an ode to little green (part one)

1401984910.459324.IMG_4537 Today is the day that I have to write a goodbye post to Little Green. I have been dreading this for six months. Honestly, I have so much to say about our tiny house, and at the same time I cannot find the right words to describe what it has meant to me for over two years. I therefore chose to make this a two part post.

Living within Little Green’s four walls has influenced my notions on what it means to be a homeowner. I discovered how to take a small space and turn it into a big one filled with love. I learned to listen to and look at what renovation it needed next rather than what we just wanted. I loved looking after her and keeping up with chores and household duties because that was when she really glowed. I appreciated the fact that I always had a safe place to go to at the end of the day, and one that never gave us troubles of any sort. Inevitably, the neighbourhood that drew us to Little Green was the same one that drove us away from her. If I was able to pick her up and move her to our new property, I would have in a heartbeat. However, she stood in the same spot for eighty-five years, so I figured that it would be best to leave her in the only place that she knew as being home.

I hope that Little Green will continue to flourish with her new homeowners. I have nothing but hope for our Little House.

<3

Emory

P.S. Below are selections from my favourite children’s book. Never has it meant so much to me as is does in my adulthood. Isn’t it funny how that happens?

Processed with VSCOcam with se3 preset“The Little House” by Virginia Lee Burton

Once upon a time there was a Little House way out in the country. She was a pretty Little House and she was strong and well built. The man who built her so well said, “This Little House shall never be sold for gold or silver and she will live to see our great-great-grandchildren’s great-great-grandchildren living in her.”

The Little House was very happy as she sat on the hill and watched the countryside around her. She watched the sun rise in the morning and she watched the sun set in the evening. Day followed day, each one a little different from the one before … but the Little House stayed just the same.

One day the Little House was surprised to see a horseless carriage coming down the winding country road … Pretty soon there were more of them on the road and fewer carriages pulled by horses. Pretty soon along came some surveyors and surveyed a line in front of the Little House. Pretty soon along came a steam shovel and dug a road through the hill covered with daisies … Then some trucks came and dumped big stones on the road, then some trucks with little stones, then some trucks with tar and sand, and finally a steam roller came and rolled it all smooth, and the road was done.

More roads were made, and the countryside was divided into lots. More houses and bigger houses … apartment houses and tenement houses … schools … stores … and garages spread over the land and crowded around the Little House. No one wanted to live in her and take care of her any more. She couldn’t be sold for gold or silver, so she just stayed there and watched.

1402364995.495982.IMG_4996Now it was not so quiet and peaceful at night. Now the lights of the city were bright and very close, and the street lights shone all night. “This must be living in the city,” thought the Little House, and didn’t know whether she liked it or not. She missed the field of daisies and the apple trees dancing in the moonlight.

The Little House was very sad and lonely. Her paint was cracked and dirty … Her windows were broken and her shutters hung crookedly. She looked shabby … though she was just as good a house as ever underneath.

Then one fine morning in Spring along came the great-great-granddaughter of the man who built the Little House so well. She saw the shabby Little House, but she didn’t hurry by. There was something about the Little House that made her stop and look again. She said to her husband, “That Little House looks just like the Little House my grandmother lived in when she was a little girl …

They found out it was the very same house, so they went to the Movers to see if the Little House could be moved. The Movers looked the Little House all over and said, “Sure, this house is as good as ever. She’s built so well we could move her anywhere.” So they jacked up the Little House and put her on wheels …

They tried the Little House here, and they tried her there. Finally they saw a little hill in the middle of a field … and apple trees growing around. “There,” said the the great-great-granddaughter, “that’s just the place.” “Yes, it is,” said the Little House to herself …

As the Little House settled down on her new foundation, she smiled happily. Once again she could watch the sun and moon and stars. Once again she could watch Spring and Summer and Fall and Winter come and go. Once again she was lived in and taken care of … 

Processed with VSCOcam with se3 preset

beauty school dropout

001.jpg005.jpg003.jpg002.jpg006.jpg007.jpg008.jpgHappy Monday, friends. I hope that each and everyone of you had a wonderful Mother’s Day. Whether you spent Sunday being a mum, with your mum, thinking of your mum, or alone, I wish that you all had happy hearts.

Yesterday was very bittersweet for me. We spent the morning having breakfast at a restaurant with my side of our family. The food was delicious, the kids were cute, and I got to spend it with my mum. After we left, my husband and I took Truman Capote to his Obedience graduation. Now that he has completed Beginner’s Obedience, I will start taking him to Agility classes. While I am excited for this new venture with him, it is also a painful reminder Prudence will never be able to experience anything else ever again. I feel guilt and sadness for being happy about one dog when I am still grieving another. Yet, I hope that she was running along side us today, through the obstacles and sneaking some treats. I would have given her a pass with flying colours!

Emory

  • Welcome, friends! My name is Emory. I am a wife and mother to three (one on earth, one in heaven, and growing another). This is our life on the Canadian prairies.
    email: helloscarlettblog@outlook.com

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