Love By Lait

This is the reason I started — and the reason I kept going.

Meet George.

George was someone I had prayed for, for a very long time. After several miscarriages, I had started to lose hope. When we found out we were expecting him, I practiced cautious joy. I obsessed over every sign — taking cheap test after cheap test, tracking every symptom, clinging to hope while guarding my heart.

We found out we were pregnant with George on Jay’s birthday — my firstborn, now in his teen years. The contrast between the two pregnancies couldn’t have been more striking. I was still so young when I had Jay — balancing school, work, and motherhood, doing everything I could to build a future. It was a time full of unknowns, but also full of love. That chapter shaped me more than anything.

With George, the emotions were just as big — but different. I was older, more established, and life looked very different than it had years ago. I found out I was pregnant at just three weeks, and while the joy was there, so was the fear. But George stayed. He stuck.

He arrived on October 3, 2021 — four days early and an unbelievable 11 lbs 2 oz. Naturally. No meds, no IV. I hadn’t planned it that way — I just didn’t know he’d be that big. None of us did.

His delivery was intense — vacuum-assisted, a nurse pressing on my belly, two doctors working quickly, shoulder dystocia, and a broken arm. But he made it. And a few days later, we were back in the NICU for severe jaundice. I couldn’t hold him. He lay under lights, eyes covered, fighting his own quiet battle. I pumped relentlessly, every two hours, determined to give him what I could. My body was exhausted. My heart was torn between my two boys. But I had help. My husband held me up when I was crumbling. Our nurse was a godsend. My in-laws and my mom gave us space to breathe — stepping in so we could focus on healing. We got through it, together.

There were moments I had longed for — like a newborn photoshoot — that didn’t happen. His size, his injury, the NICU stay… it all added up. I didn’t get newborn photos with Jay, and now again, I felt like I missed out. So I did what I could. A light swaddle, a fur blanket, and a mama determined to make it work. It wasn’t Pinterest-perfect, but it gave me peace.

That DIY spirit sparked something in me. I had experience with resin from my years as an art teacher, so I made myself a breastmilk ring. A keepsake I hadn’t been able to have the first time around — but one I could create now. Not just for me, but for others. That’s how Love by Lait was born.

But that was just the beginning.

What kept me going was Jackson.

After George, we knew our family wasn’t quite complete. But then came six back-to-back miscarriages. Six. Each one chipped away at my hope. We went to Heartland. We tried everything. No answers. No explanations. Just loss after loss.

And then — a sticky babe.

Pregnancy with Jackson was physically and emotionally grueling. I held my breath through most of it. Thankfully, they monitored his size carefully, and on April 4, 2025, he was born. Perfect and pink and strong.

His birth wasn’t without its own challenges — another shoulder dystocia, a hospital stay for jaundice — but this time we had a skilled doctor, and a smoother experience. Our breastfeeding journey didn’t last long, and that broke me in new ways. I had poured everything into it. But in that ending, something else began.

Love by Lait became more than something I started after George. It became where I poured my heart — through grief, through joy, through growth. It’s where I honour each of my babies — earthside and heaven-sent. Where I connect with other families who have walked similar paths.

It’s not just jewelry.
It’s not just resin.

It’s memory.
It’s love.
It’s legacy.

And that’s why I keep going.