We're all creative, every one of us, to one degree or another. Some people can sing, others can sew, others still can paint an amazing landscape. I can't draw a stick figure to save my life, but I love putting colours and textures and fabrics and papers and ribbons together to make things. All sorts of things.
I've always been 'crafty'. I'll see something and think, 'huh...I could make that' (hence the creation of my very first bow holder), and the inevitable trip to Michaels for supplies would ensue. I've had varying degrees of success over the years as I'm sure we all have, and more than one spectacular failure that I've gotten a great deal of laughter out of once the frustration finally fell away. But most of all, I find simply doing creative things gives me an outlet for an entire suite of emotions.
Working away in my craft room surrounded by a myriad of materials is as close as I think I'll ever come to meditation in this life. When I'm matching up fabrics and ribbons for a new tactile blanket, don't even think of interrupting me - my mind is miles away anyway. And while at times I can get stressed about ensuring all my orders are done and packed up in good time, sitting at that sewing machine and making something tangible out of many different pieces is the best blood pressure medication on the planet for me.
When I first decided to open an Etsy shop it was, as I'm sure most of my fellow Etsyians can relate, because people were complementary of what I'd put together and they suggested that it would be a great little business to help make some extra money. And who couldn't use a little extra money?
We definitely could. You see, my Etsy shop was more than just a little something to do in my spare time. In the beginning, it was also established with the hope that it could supplement our income even a bit to help my husband and me pursue our number one goal - to have a child of our own together.
Almost ironic, isn't it? That I have a shop dedicated almost exclusively to products for newborns, infants, and toddlers, but I don't/can't have children of my own.
Without turning this into a maudlin post, I'll simply say that my husband and I have been struggling for almost seven years to conceive. We've been through multiple rounds of fertility treatments including two IVFs, one of which ended in miscarriage, and have spent well over $40,000 attempting to make our dream a reality. So opening my wee shop back in April of last year was not only to make my creative pursuits more available to the general public - it was also to try to rack up some much needed drug money.
Fertility drugs, of course. :)
We still haven't been successful in this particular endeavour of ours. So as we approach the end of our trying to conceive journey, I realize that my lil shop, even without a lil diva of its own, has served a much greater purpose in my life than helping me buy fertility drugs.
It's helped me survive infertility. Given me an outlet, a zen activity, a distraction, and a passion. And while no creative pursuit will never completely erase the sadness that comes from knowing I'll likely never see a child of my own using something I've handmade with love, it does help. It helps a lot.
So know that anything you buy from me serves two purposes - the one that made you buy it in the first place, and one I bet you'd never even considered. It helps keep you organized or sane or keeps your baby comfortable, and, well, it helps me cope with the hand I've been dealt.
We all have different reasons for doing what we do. In the wee hours of the morning when we're madly finishing off one product or another to make sure we get it out to you we're not doing it for the money - we're doing it because we take pride in what we do, we love the creative outlet, and in my case, it accomplishes just that little bit more.
So I thank you, wholeheartedly, for your support. In so many more ways than one.