Homecoming

                    

I'm home. And I have been so cared for. I had my miscarriage at home, just Tim and I. The kids were away camping on a weekend planned months ago. And while awful, it was a relief to be alone, to not need the intervention I've had with my other births, to be given space to trust my body.

I'm learning that grief is a waiting game. 

And that the loss of a child (or the hope of one) is not the only grief, but the loss of a routine and direction and identity. 

Don't get me wrong. I'm not completely without direction (or the other things that make me me). And I'm glad for the choice to come home. Excited even. I'm just continually surprised at the seemingly chaotic mix of hopeful, sunny days and acutely-aware-of-the-change-of-plans days.

I've enjoyed reclaiming our front sunroom as my new workspace. With the cooler weather approaching, I look forward to spending sunny winter days in here. I enjoyed unpacking my fabric into this wall shelf that used to be full of Tim's hoarded electronics. I think it's happier with these colours!

I've sorted most of my scraps into these bins. They are all full from 4 pillowcases of fabric. I still have 2 pillowcases left! But I've put these away in a cupboard for when these bins empty a little.
And do you notice my new friend? I got her second hand, hardly touched for a fraction of the cost of a new one. I'll introduce you properly later. But for now you just need to know we are getting along like a house on fire, and I've called her "Red".

I've started on some scrappy quilts, building a lovely pile of works-in-progress while I give myself time to just make whatever tickles my fancy.
And I've set up my iron under the window facing the tree. When it's not raining, this is where the winter sun comes through.
I'm looking forward to those days.
xx