The Story of Packing Away Our Son’s Nursery…

In 2018, at 36 weeks pregnant with our second child, our son Laken was stillborn.
There were no warnings, no signs—nothing. Just ten days before, at our routine scan, everything had looked perfect. We were getting ready. We were excited. Then, suddenly, everything stopped.

There’s nothing—no class, no book, no person—that can prepare you for that kind of moment. Time stands still. It feels like you’re underwater. The world slows, and all the sound becomes muffled. People speak to you, ask you questions, need you to make decisions—but you can’t really hear them. You can’t really think.

We were surrounded by so much love—family, friends, our community. The kindness we received was overwhelming. But it was still horrendous. I had never wanted to die before, but in those early days, I did. If every day was going to feel like that, I truly didn’t know how I could go on. How was it even possible to live through that kind of pain?

Grief is a monster we all face at some point. No one is immune. And it hurts like nothing else.

One of the hardest things we had to do after losing Laken was packing away his nursery.
Going through his little clothes, his blankets, his toys. But were they really his? He’d never worn them. Never touched them. He’d never seen that room.

It was confusing and excruciating.

But there was one small mercy. Some dear friends, who had also walked through loss, came to help us. They understood. They didn’t say the wrong things—those well-meaning but painful words. They didn’t try to fix anything. They just were. Present. Gentle. Trustworthy. I handed them items, and they quietly placed them in the attic. It was still hard. But their empathy made it bearable.

Our belongings—especially after loss—carry so much: grief, love, stories, sentiment, memories, and hope deferred. That’s why I created Minimalist Mischief.

It’s more than just simplifying. It's about walking with people as they navigate the deep emotional layers attached to the things they keep—or let go of—after loss. It’s a safe place for messy, sacred moments. A space to process, to honour, to breathe.

You don’t have to do it alone, I would be honored to help you work through your loved one’s belongings.

For more information and scheduling please me

Email - minimalistmischief@gmail.com

Or

Feel free to reach out via the Minimalist Mischief IG page by DM.