It’s time to connect.


It’s no secret that we are all sitting in the centre of a cyclone with a storm surging around us. Everyone is affected, and everyone has a story. I am choosing today to share mine.


I’ve been sitting for weeks contemplating when and how is the right time to do this, but I am quickly learning that in this current climate, there simply isn’t a good time, there are no answers, and there is no clear path. So, instead of continuing to hide in the haze of the unknown, I have decided to share what I know so far.


For those of you who have been following my brand for a while, you might remember that a couple of years ago, I was faced with some pretty scary odds when I was admitted to hospital for a unique and highly complicated vascular surgery. My team of surgeons was incredible, and the multi-staged operation was a success.


Fast forward exactly two years, and we have learned that the surgery has failed, cue gut punch. I would be lying if I didn’t admit to the massive amount of feelings this has brought on. I am gutted, I am angry, and I am also terrified. But here’s the thing….. Those feelings don’t change anything. So I gave myself a couple of weeks to feel sorry for myself, to be scared and quite frankly pissed off and then threw myself into figuring out where we go from here.


This is where things get messy and complicated. It turns out that this is the absolute worst time to be facing this, so I am trying my best to embrace the suck. On top of our overrun hospitals, surgical cancellations and the complexity of my unchartered case, my head surgeon was admitted to the ICU for his own heroic and insane health battle.


This has left me needing to trust in a new surgeon and start that rapport again. Here’s the thing, I trust our healthcare providers; I know that each day they show up and that we have some of the most brilliant minds right here. But, I also know that they are exhausted as they are navigating things that are out of their control. I am also acutely aware that sometimes the solution isn’t available where you need it.


When they confirmed last month that my bypass procedure had failed entirely, I was told that it wouldn’t be reasonable to wait for my surgeon to return to work if it meant needing to wait several months. The longer I waited, the greater my chances of massive bleeding became.


So here we are nearly two months later, 3 cancelled (due to Covid) appointments and counting and the knowledge that my pressing circumstances no longer meet the criteria for “urgent” surgical support.


So here’s what I know…. I currently have 3 really shitty options on the table, and none seem safe or fair. I am a casualty of our collapsing healthcare system. I am being forced to wait…… wait for answers, wait for a plan, wait for things to hopefully not get worse. But what I am thankful for is that I am NOT doing this alone. While I wait, I know that conversations and consultations for other options are happening behind the scenes.


I am confident that the new surgical team (in consultation with my incredible previous surgeon) is having many discussions about how to best proceed. Despite not having the opportunity yet to connect with this new team, it is not because I am forgotten.


But here’s the transparent reality of all of this. It fucking sucks. It’s incredibly hard to prepare for what is to come when you know all of the options suck and there is no glimmer as to when this will be able to go down. Waiting is hard! Waiting to hear what you need to prepare for as a family when the risks are so high and the system is falling apart feels impossible.


As I share this, I know that there are so many others facing immediate and acute battles because of the burdens being placed on our ICU’s and I want them to know my heart aches for them. If my journey as a hospital mama taught me anything, it is that you don’t ever have to look very far to find another family, another story that has a struggle greater than yours. But the reality is that all these stories suck. I don’t want to bleed to death, I don’t want to lose an organ, and I don’t want to have to make choices that potentially cut short my time here with my family. But that is currently my story anyway.


So, after much agonizing, we have decided as a family that we need to take control of the things that we can and start to prepare for what is to come (even if that is yet to be determined).


This means that I need a couple of things. I need to move the massive amount of inventory that we had stocked up just before Covid shook our world (we had exciting plans to be a part of several wholesale shows across the continent last year). We need these sales. We need them to help us as we enter a long period of unknown. I also want to be in a position where I can enter into a pause to spend time at home with my family as I prepare for and recover from what is to come. Finally, I need to be sure that in the unfortunate event that I should not come through this that my family won’t be stuck needing to offload inventory and left trying to determine what to do with TBFC.


I am committed to LIVE. I am determined to find myself on the other side of this, but I also know that I need to look after myself and my family in the process. So I am leaning on you, my glorious, beautiful tribe. If you have been contemplating purchasing from us, now is the time. If you know retail stores that would benefit from carrying our sustainable line, please advocate for this. And finally, if you are a person of faith, I ask that you hold the many other families and us struggling to hold on while we wait in your prayers.