Friday, February 5, 2016

Maybe if I tried my toes....

I am freaking losing my mind over here.

I have a massive care of startitis, coupled with a complete lack of inspiration on WHAT, exactly, I actually want to knit. This is not a good combo.

I've been traipsing around Ravelry and there are so many groups that need things. So many people are hurting in some way or another. I could start any number of things and be able to find a place for it. The problem is I don't know who or what I want to do.

I have an package ready to mail to Matthew's Gift, so that's off the table for just now. I needed a break from thinking about the lost babies. I know how those mothers feel. I've been there. I feel guilty that I need to step back, but I do.

I've been reading about Pine Ridge Reservation again. Do a bit of research, it's awful there. There are three groups on Ravelry that serve PRR: Bundles of Joy, which is a lot of baby knitting with occasional other goals thrown in. For the Children of Pine Ridge, which serves several organizations on PRR. And Afghan Squares for Pine Ridge, which is just what it sounds like. Pam Little Sparrow accepts afghan squares, preferably 6" or 12", and sews them into blankets for the Rez.

Then I found the group Hats and More for War-Torn Syria. Now, I've heard the talk about the refugees but I hadn't poked around that group much until last night. Y'all, they have photos of kids in the snow in sandals, with no coats. It's the ever loving lulu of poverty and destitution.

Half of me is paralyzed in horror, the other half screams KNIT.

I cast on a Pebble Vest today.

The yarn is a handspun, handpainted wool that has been in the stash for years. It's called "Dragon's Breath", according to the card that was on the hank. I wound it into a ball last night and cast on today. It's a nice yarn, not buttery soft but you can feel how warm it is and I plan to get a long-sleeved onesie and put it with the vest as a set. It will keep a baby warm.

But it's going to blasted ***SLOW***! I'm not knitting as fast as usual because the cable on this needle isn't as pliable as I'm used to, for one thing, and for another... I just don't know. I feel like I'm slogging through molasses.

I leaped into the stash again and found a ball of lavender wool. It wants to be something but cannot decide what. But if it does decide, then I will be knitting/crocheting that thing instead of the vest. *sigh*

Maybe I should try knitting with my toes.

Saturday, January 16, 2016


I found a sweet pattern for a baby burial bunting that I got actual loss mama recommendation for. It's the Knitted Burial Bunting pattern and one of the moms in HAPL on Ravelry said she got one for her daughter. She said it was just right. I'm taking that recommendation to the bank and am making a bunch of them.

First one is meant for Rochester Methodist Hospital in Rochester, whenever I get there again.

Second and third ones are for Matthew's Gift (link goes to a previous blog post that I did about them, which contains pertinent links).

I am about to cast on my fourth one. They're rather addictive.

I'm also working on a crocheted bunting that is similar to these knitted ones. I'm making up the pattern, noting what I'm doing, and I will probably put the directions up here. There aren't too many burial item patterns, or perhaps I should say there should be more patterns. Especially patterns that are nice for boys. Lace and frills are all well and good, and some parents would put them on their sons, but not every parent is like that and they should have something for their son that they can be proud of. Every baby deserves the dignity of an outfit or a wrap.

Thursday, January 14, 2016

Matthew's Gift

I discovered a new charity. Well, I knew about it, but I hadn't paid too much attention to it. Recently though, I read through it all and I now have Tiri's little froggy bank repurposed as a postage saving bank. :-)

Here is the Matthew's Gift Facebook page and the Matthew's Gift Ravelry group.

Matthew's mom is putting together memory boxes for lost babies, with gowns and hats for the babies and keepsakes for their mothers. The photos of her first donation are lovely. I would have loved to get a box this beautiful and personalizes when Freddy was born.

I've been knitting and crocheting, of course.

I'm working on a Knitted Burial Bunting. Adorable little thing! I made one that I plan to take to Rochester at some point, and now some for M'sG.

If you have the heart for it, please check out Matthew's Gift and contribute what you can. <3

Monday, December 21, 2015


On Wednesday last week Tiri told me that she had a sore throat when she got home from school. Later on she denied it, but the handbook says they need to stay out of school 24 hours after they are symptom free. Kept her home on Wednesday, everything seemed to be fine Thursday so she went to school. As evening approached, she seemed to be dragging.

Friday, you could tell she was getting sick. Much as I tried, she so helpfully got into Fritz's face and by Saturday he was also sick. Yesterday, it got me.

Except this is me:

Oh well.

Sunday, December 13, 2015

In Loving Memory of Jerek Alfred (Freddy)

I mentioned in a previous post that I was working on a donation in memory of Freddy. The name evolved a few times, but ended up being The Freddy Project Memorial Donation 2015.

On December 10th, Jerek and I went to Eau Claire, WI and I delivered 72 hats to two hospitals and a crisis pregnancy care clinic. 72 hats, divided by 3, equals 24 hats per place. Each place for 24 because Freddy would be 24 months.

Sacred Heart Hospital got this set:

Luther Middelfort Hospital, part of Mayo Clinic Heath System, got this set:

And Apple Pregnancy Care Clinic got this set:

72 babies will wear my hats in Freddy's place. I hope their mothers love them as much as I love Freddy.

Tuesday, December 8, 2015

Dads Hurt Too

Today's post is dedicated to my husband, Jerek, and to all the other dads who have had to lay a child to rest. 

There is much out there for mothers (relatively) who have lost babies. Support groups, jewelry, etc etc. The same cannot be said for dads. Most dads cry in secret, trying to hide their pain while being the rock for their partners. Men don't talk about it very much. But make no mistake, dads hurt too.

I'll share a story of my husband's. It illustrates something that should never be said to a grieving father.

After our son's funeral, some friends put on a little snack lunch. My midwife was hovering over me since I was still weak from the blood loss after Freddy's birth. My husband was moving around, talking to people. One of the folks who was attending (unmarried and childless, I might add) told him that loss did not affect fathers.

It is probably a very good thing I did not hear that first hand. I was out of tact, grace, and manners. It would have been ugly.

Loss affects fathers. Perhaps in some ways it is different, and there isn't the physical recovery on top of everything else, but it is still so hard for them. Men are fixers, but they cannot fix the loss of a baby. They can't take away their partner's pain.

I'll repeat myself once again. Dads hurt too.

This poem always brings me to tears:

If any loss dads read this, please know that I am so sorry for your pain, and I am sorry for any thoughtless comments that have been made to you.

Monday, December 7, 2015

In 3 Days...

You should be 2 years old. We would not be marking the occasion in any spectacular way, other than your mommy and daddy looking back on how you had changed in that amount of time. You would probably be walking and even trying to run. Talking, chasing your sister, getting into her things. I wonder if you would still be breastfeeding? Probably. Getting to the 2 year old picky eater stage? I wouldn't be a bit surprised.


You are not here with us. You are sleeping in a small white box with your grandmother on a hill outside of Nelson. You're wrapped in a blanket, wearing pajamas, and the only mama-mades that I was able to put on you. I'm glad you're wearing them. It made it easier for me to let them put you up there when it was snowing. I knew you wouldn't feel it, my baby, but still I didn't want you to be cold. I cared for you for as long as I could.

Instead I sit here, writing this and hoping that someday Jehovah will resurrect you, as he promised he will. I wonder what it will be like when you open your eyes--what color will they be? Blue like your baby brother's and your daddy, or brown like your older sister and me? What will your smile look like? Your laugh.

Oh your laugh. I love to hear your little brother laugh but it is agony at the same time. Every time I wish I would have heard yours too. I'm so selfish.

I'm working on a project in your memory. I will never forget you and I want others to know you were here. Since you only had one hat, I am making 96 others for other babies. Each hat has a tag with your name on it. They're wearing them in your place, and I can only hope their mothers love them and want them as much I love you and wish you were here with me.

I will post more about that project later.

I just keep going back to that. In three days, you would be 2. I wish you were here, my Freddy.