Stacey Hare Hodgins
Womb / Product of Self Conception
Timed self-portrait in fibre) utero
Synthetic and natural yarns, grief, memories, tensions, uncertainty 30in x 25in
Timed self-portrait in fibre) utero
Synthetic and natural yarns, grief, memories, tensions, uncertainty 30in x 25in
Womb | Product of Self-Conception, 2021. Timed self-portrait in fibre utero
Synthetic and natural yarns, grief, memories, tension, uncertainty
30in x 25in.
ABSTRACT
In North America, one in four pregnancies ends in loss. When this loss occurs before 20 weeks, as it most often does, it is referred to as a miscarriage. A common experience shrouded in societal silence. In late 2006, the absence of a fetal heartbeat confirmed a silent miscarriage three months into my second pregnancy. Fifteen years later, I still wanted to know: How can I make meaning of my loss when I resist the notion that fetuses are babies? How can I make meaning of miscarriage without reinforcing anti-abortion narratives? How can others like me grieve, with support from people and policy, when self-conceptualizing an invisible and unrecognized loss feels impossible?
“Islands of Memory: Making feminist meaning of a miscarriage through art and writing,” is an interdisciplinary, multimodal project culminating in an autoethnography, “Scenes from a Miscarriage,” and a self-portrait featuring textile-based artwork called Womb | Product of Self-Conception (2021). This project is influenced by Parsons’ (2010) theory that a relational model of pregnancy and pregnancy loss lets feminists occupy shifting spaces on a continuum of emotional attachment, and Lindemann’s (2015), assertion that meanings of pregnancy and loss are made through the construction of highly-individualized stories. My methodology is inspired by feminist Swafford (2020) and Upshaw (2017) whose performative autoethnographies about abortion and childhood sexual abuse, respectively, position the body as a site of critical knowledge production; artists and therapists, like Seftel (2006) and Collier (2012), who use art as apparatus for creative expression and personal transformation; and Sameshima et al. (2019), arts-integrated researchers who recognize the value in converting experiences into art forms.
Storytelling, for me, is about facilitating agency, self-discovery, and connection. There is power in exploring how we are shaped--not defined--by our complex histories, and in deciding how and why our stories are told and to whom. Miscarriage is complicated, and an effective, supportive response requires knowing which story is meaningful to the person experiencing the loss. Whereas dominant narratives about early pregnancy loss refute its emotional and psychological effects, my work exists as a two-fold counternarrative: pregnancy loss can have a deep and lasting impact and we are allowed to make meaning of it–even without memorializing a baby.
By engaging in arts-based transformative praxis to make meaning within a broader context of social norms and feminist critiques related to pregnancy and miscarriage, I expressed my unique grief story as a feminist contribution to art for social change. I hope this work lets others who have experienced pregnancy loss see some aspect of themselves or their story in mine, especially those who don’t see their loss experiences (or their complicated feelings) reflected in conventional grief or loss-specific resources or support groups. And I hope it makes visible some of the complexities of miscarriage, as well as the endless possibilities for meaning-making through art.
In North America, one in four pregnancies ends in loss. When this loss occurs before 20 weeks, as it most often does, it is referred to as a miscarriage. A common experience shrouded in societal silence. In late 2006, the absence of a fetal heartbeat confirmed a silent miscarriage three months into my second pregnancy. Fifteen years later, I still wanted to know: How can I make meaning of my loss when I resist the notion that fetuses are babies? How can I make meaning of miscarriage without reinforcing anti-abortion narratives? How can others like me grieve, with support from people and policy, when self-conceptualizing an invisible and unrecognized loss feels impossible?
“Islands of Memory: Making feminist meaning of a miscarriage through art and writing,” is an interdisciplinary, multimodal project culminating in an autoethnography, “Scenes from a Miscarriage,” and a self-portrait featuring textile-based artwork called Womb | Product of Self-Conception (2021). This project is influenced by Parsons’ (2010) theory that a relational model of pregnancy and pregnancy loss lets feminists occupy shifting spaces on a continuum of emotional attachment, and Lindemann’s (2015), assertion that meanings of pregnancy and loss are made through the construction of highly-individualized stories. My methodology is inspired by feminist Swafford (2020) and Upshaw (2017) whose performative autoethnographies about abortion and childhood sexual abuse, respectively, position the body as a site of critical knowledge production; artists and therapists, like Seftel (2006) and Collier (2012), who use art as apparatus for creative expression and personal transformation; and Sameshima et al. (2019), arts-integrated researchers who recognize the value in converting experiences into art forms.
Storytelling, for me, is about facilitating agency, self-discovery, and connection. There is power in exploring how we are shaped--not defined--by our complex histories, and in deciding how and why our stories are told and to whom. Miscarriage is complicated, and an effective, supportive response requires knowing which story is meaningful to the person experiencing the loss. Whereas dominant narratives about early pregnancy loss refute its emotional and psychological effects, my work exists as a two-fold counternarrative: pregnancy loss can have a deep and lasting impact and we are allowed to make meaning of it–even without memorializing a baby.
By engaging in arts-based transformative praxis to make meaning within a broader context of social norms and feminist critiques related to pregnancy and miscarriage, I expressed my unique grief story as a feminist contribution to art for social change. I hope this work lets others who have experienced pregnancy loss see some aspect of themselves or their story in mine, especially those who don’t see their loss experiences (or their complicated feelings) reflected in conventional grief or loss-specific resources or support groups. And I hope it makes visible some of the complexities of miscarriage, as well as the endless possibilities for meaning-making through art.
ARTIST STATEMENT
Through a process of uncovering forgotten or hidden parts of our stories/selves, narrative and artmaking practices can foster deeply nuanced understandings of our lived experiences. I use these contemplative tex/tile practices to explore themes of grief/loss, identity, in/visibility, dis/connection, family, and memory.
Womb is a conceptual, process-oriented piece, a meditation on my autoethnographic process, an expression of my desire to hold and be held, an integration of a kind of grief that didn't seem to belong anywhere. This womb is freeform, purposely inconsistent, not beautiful. I randomly switched stitches and yarns to embrace uncertainty, like that which accompanies both pregnancy and loss. Like uterine walls, its durable structure consists of bumpy, elastic layers capable of carrying my evolving and complicated feelings about my miscarriage. As an enclosure of security, warmth and comfort made using a handcraft technique I learned from my late beloved Auntie with yarn donated by friends, it illustrates what is possible in the presence of love and care. The title makes reference to the products of conception that were removed from my uterus during a D&C and sent away. This piece is a reclamation: an imperfect product of my self-conception, an integration of fifteen years’ worth of complexity and understanding of my pregnancy loss, and mine to keep.
Through a process of uncovering forgotten or hidden parts of our stories/selves, narrative and artmaking practices can foster deeply nuanced understandings of our lived experiences. I use these contemplative tex/tile practices to explore themes of grief/loss, identity, in/visibility, dis/connection, family, and memory.
Womb is a conceptual, process-oriented piece, a meditation on my autoethnographic process, an expression of my desire to hold and be held, an integration of a kind of grief that didn't seem to belong anywhere. This womb is freeform, purposely inconsistent, not beautiful. I randomly switched stitches and yarns to embrace uncertainty, like that which accompanies both pregnancy and loss. Like uterine walls, its durable structure consists of bumpy, elastic layers capable of carrying my evolving and complicated feelings about my miscarriage. As an enclosure of security, warmth and comfort made using a handcraft technique I learned from my late beloved Auntie with yarn donated by friends, it illustrates what is possible in the presence of love and care. The title makes reference to the products of conception that were removed from my uterus during a D&C and sent away. This piece is a reclamation: an imperfect product of my self-conception, an integration of fifteen years’ worth of complexity and understanding of my pregnancy loss, and mine to keep.
Womb | Product of Self-Conception, 2021
Timed self-portrait in fibre utero
Synthetic and natural yarns, grief, memories, tension, uncertainty
30in x 25in
Timed self-portrait in fibre utero
Synthetic and natural yarns, grief, memories, tension, uncertainty
30in x 25in
ARTIST BIO
Stacey Hare Hodgins is a facilitator, writer, maker, and social worker who holds degrees in Sociology, Social Work, and Social Justice Studies. She believes writing and storytelling help us re/connect with ourselves and each other and enable us to make meaning of our individual and collective experiences. Her multimodal autoethnography, “Islands of Memory: Making feminist meaning of a miscarriage through art and writing,” explores lived contradictions.
Stacey Hare Hodgins is a facilitator, writer, maker, and social worker who holds degrees in Sociology, Social Work, and Social Justice Studies. She believes writing and storytelling help us re/connect with ourselves and each other and enable us to make meaning of our individual and collective experiences. Her multimodal autoethnography, “Islands of Memory: Making feminist meaning of a miscarriage through art and writing,” explores lived contradictions.