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 for over four weeks, tragedies with his work, sicknesses in our household, and a general feeling of sadness that I just cannot shake. I normally do not complain on my blog, but rather, 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 tonight, something struck me. I’ve noticed that since having Remy, my face has changed. I used to be a carefree, naive girl who jumped around from home to job. While the latter has not changed, I feel like I physically, mentally, and emotionally have. 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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Hellllooooo spring!!
During the long winter months, I took up sewing items by hand. I have never been good with a sewing machine, and while I hope to be one day, right now I find that I just don’t have the space or time to learn.
What I do instead is while Wilder is having a nap and Remy is having quiet time, I cut out patterns for clothing and I sew them. It takes me weeks to do it by hand, but being able to rest on the couch and watch Netflix for an hour or two while I stitch the fabric together is such a nice break in my otherwise long day.
The clothes are always something that we need. From dresses to shirts to shorts, we always end up wearing it all. I simply purchase a vintage sheet from a thrift store for usually $6 and under and from it, I get a few separate pieces of clothing. It’s sustainable living at its finest.
(You can see Remy’s black dress and my tan dress here, both of which I also made.) Have a lovely week!
Hello, Scarlett Blog 
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