re·cov·er
verb
1. return to a normal state of health, mind, or strength.
2. find or regain possession of (something stolen or lost).
hys·ter·i·cal·ly
verb
1. with wildly uncontrolled emotion.
2. used to emphasize how funny something is.
In 2017, found out I needed an open/radical hysterectomy at age 36.
What followed was a lot of crying, planning, crafting, cleaning, cocktails, connecting, and consulting the internet in search of people like me. And that vast internet, in a way that is almost incomprehensible in 2018, let me down. There are sites that address physical recovery, endless threads regarding grief, blogs with links to adoption agencies, and do. not. even. get me started on the advice. Reading that caring for your post-hysterectomy self should include: coloring, puzzles, and other "gentle activities" is a good start to feeling marginally worse. Couple that with the staple follow-up advice: being sure to shower and put on lipstick in order to avoid "feeling less feminine" or becoming depressed? That's a recipe for a full-on breakdown, and I did not come here for that, Internet.
While navigating my fears and grief, I began prepping in a way that any self-respecting Type A would: I painted rooms, banished junk drawers, and shopped for essential recovery items... which, ironically, are largely marketed as post-natal products. When you're counting down the days to a hysterectomy, ordering "pregnancy pillows" and post-surgical/caesarean garments labeled "Pretty Mama" is exactly as comforting as it sounds. Not to mention, all of that research gifted me an email inbox that looked just like what you'd predict from an expectant mother. Except... I wasn't having a baby.
So, I muttered a lot of swear words, removed myself from mailing lists, had a few meltdowns, and got down to the task of occupying my mind and hands.
This site was born February 2018, a few days into my recovery. You may have landed here because you like one of the following: modern crafting, elementary cooking, dogs, me, any/all of the above, or because you are lost. Either way–I'm thrilled you're here and if you want to join along, I will make you the following promise: all of the things I'm doing require less than 7 supplies (all of which can be ordered online) and completed from bed, couch, or kitchen. (Mostly bed though, because if one is ordered to nap, frequently? One does not ask questions.)