🍗Lil Treasures #185: Food Families and Community Care

We're talking gardening and the Cis Teen Chapel

Jun 30, 2023

Hey there!

We meet again at our weekly treasure round-up. It is extremely hot and it seems like there’s a lot going on out there in the oceans, so stay safe if you’re traveling this holiday weekend!

I wanted to save some space this week for this piece that my friend Hannah wrote about community care. I have known Hannah for a long time now, and have worked with her both in camp ministry and now in this space. I am helping host her baby shower next week, so sharing this now feels especially prevalent.

I hope you find support and encouragement in these words, especially if you’ve walked a similar road 💛

It is June, and I am sitting in an ultrasound room.

I listen as the kind ultrasound tech scrolls furiously, searching. I can’t see the screen, but I already know she won’t find anything. Surely there is nothing left after what I experienced the night before.

She gently tells me what I already know, and then walks me through a secret corridor, avoiding the waiting room so I don’t have to look at anyone. I will never forget her thoughtfulness for doing this. This baby was only 5.5 weeks old, and I am still so sad that I didn’t get to meet them.

The grief that followed having a miscarriage was overwhelming. I never understood the emotions this kind of loss could contain until I was smack dab in the middle of it, feeling a little dazed and absolutely crushed. My friend Annie (who had also just experienced a miscarriage) DoorDashed me dinner that night. I remember thinking “I don’t know if I need this” but she anticipated my needs better than I did, and she knew that when dinnertime rolled around, I would still be in shock and didn’t need to think about what I was going to eat. When I look back on that awful day, I will always remember her kindness displayed in the form of a Tazikis dinner feast.

The days that followed felt like I was living an out-of-body experience. I spent a lot of time questioning the reasons why it happened, questioning God’s goodness. My therapist’s advice to “grieve well” kept echoing in my brain, and I started to try and talk openly about what happened, hoping this would help work through the knots of my feelings. I eventually shared my experience on the internet, and although this felt humiliating in some ways, it was freeing to receive so many responses as a result. This made me realize just how many women had similar stories to mine, and opened the door to conversations that have continued since that point. One in five pregnancies end in miscarriage. One in eight women struggle with fertility. My DM’s were flooded.

It is November, and I am sitting in a different ultrasound room.

This time, I’m at a fertility clinic. I do not want to be here, but we have reached the point of reaching out for extra help to start our family. I receive a very informative tour of my uterus. Thank God there are eggs in there! Part of me was always a little nervous there weren’t any left. I chant “I’m the egg queen” to my husband as often as I can after this (New Girl fans will know).

At this first appointment, I bumped into a woman I knew in the lobby. I felt immediately embarrassed to be seen by her there. In some ways, getting fertility help can feel like failure. At least, those were the lies swirling around in my head in the waiting room each time. As I talked to this friend in the lobby though, my defenses started to come down. This was her second baby with the help of fertility doctors. “Let me know if you want to have coffee, I am always here to talk,” she offered. I didn’t want to be a part of her club, so I never called her.

I visited the clinic several times over the following weeks, getting various tests done and lots of blood drawn. “Everything looks normal”, they said. I think this was supposed to be comforting news, but it ended up just confusing me further. I hated going there.

I came across several people I knew (and some I met while waiting) in the clinic’s lobby over the next few months, each one offering encouragement and support. At first I was taken back, especially by the support of women who didn’t even know me. There were a lot of offerings of “I’m here if you ever want to talk over a cup of coffee.” The embarrassment faded with time, and my appreciation for their support and their dedication to drinking coffee grew. It was the strangest group I’d ever been a part of. We each shared this frustrating struggle, but the community care found here was something I’d never experienced. I didn’t want to be a part of their club, but this group was God’s common grace to me and to an entire group of grieved, determined women. Their bravery and support inspired me. It still does.

It is January, and I am back again for another ultrasound.

I am so nervous that the nurse takes my blood pressure twice because it’s sky-high. She inserts the probe (which I’ve become well acquainted with after a few appointments), but this time she pauses, and turns the screen so I can see the tiny tadpole that is my baby. It is really there. The nurse reminds me at 5.5 weeks that it is too early for a heartbeat. I am disappointed because I had prayed we would hear one. She continues her vigorous ultrasound scroll and starts smiling, and we see it! That little heart must’ve just started thumping. It’s amazing! I feel so happy. I feel so terrified of losing this one, too.

The weeks following that appointment were full of anxiety and lots of Reddit deep dives. With every week that passed, I started to breathe a little easier. And with every appointment, I felt more and more supported from the nurses, staff, and women waiting in the lobby who continued to bravely show up to be pricked and prodded.

I’ve heard it said before just how amazing the Mom Community can be (I have also seen the opposite of these in Facebook Mom groups, but I’m just gonna let that go for now). When you step into this sacred clique, you gain access to a group of women willing to do anything for each other, regardless of if you have it all together or not. I am excited to be inducted into this new and sacred community, but I have also experienced the deepest and warmest community care as a result of simply TRYING to be be a Mom. I never wanted to be a part (and was embarrassed to be) in this club, but holy moments have happened here.

This club is made up of women well-acquainted with grief who make extra room for others’ grievances, there to hold a hand or recommend a financial plan or sit with each other through negative tests and harsh disappointments. A group of people so determined to start their own families that they would empty their savings and stick themselves with countless needles all in pursuit of raising a child. And now that I have experienced this kind of support, it has given me a whole new set of tools to also help care for those who are walking through the same thing. Like my friend Annie, I am quick to extend a hand or send a meal because I know just how crucial this kind of support is.

My baby boy, my rainbow baby, is due this September. I am a different person as a result of the difficult process of bringing him into the world, but more importantly I am different because of the healing and care I found while I was there struggling.

So many people have to wrestle with the question “Why me?” when it comes to being faced with hardships or losses starting a family. It’s easy to feel alone and isolated, and to become victims in our hardships (I am the best at this). But we are not alone in our grief. Not only are we accompanied by Someone who is also well-acquainted with grief, but He doesn’t stop with His presence. He equips the infertility saints to band together and act as vessels of His grace and comfort. Like Psalm 34:18 says (this is the Message version):

If your heart is broken, you’ll find God right there;
if you’re kicked in the gut, he’ll help you catch your breath.

If you are grieving through a miscarriage or struggling on your journey to start a family, I’m here if you ever want to talk over a cup of coffee. There is a whole community of people out there ready to step in, whenever you are ready.

We are not alone in our grief 🫶

***I also know there are some out there who have opinions about using fertility services to start their families, as if this is intervening in God’s plan. I want to be clear that I don’t think this option is for everyone (nor should everyone feel like they need to have kids), but to me this has been another evidence of God’s common grace, and I’m just really grateful.

Thanks for reading! You can follow Hannah’s writing over at

Simply the Zest 🍋

Let’s jump into this week’s treasures!

🥑I’m really passionate about not using my oven and exclusively eating cold foods right now, so I cannot wait to make this tomato avocado corn salad!

📖The lovely Meredith Ann Miller shared a post on Instagram titled "the one research idea I wish every Christian parent knew" and if that title isn’t enough for you, please go check it out and save it to your favorites ASAP.

🌱One of my faves Anne Helen Petersen is starting a new study within her Culture Study Substack called “Garden Study”. If love talking about plants and pollinators and things of that nature, make sure you subscribe! (If you already subscribe to Anne Helen’s other content, scroll down on the post to help you figure out how to get the garden info to your inbox)

💕For a good dose of humanity today, watch this video of a Glastonbury crowd at a Lewis Capaldi show helping him sing a song in the midst of a Tourette’s episode.

🗣️Definitely using one of these non-appearance compliments in the near future.