The “Bravery Board” will serve as an online journal, a newsletter of sorts on our WebSite. Entries will often be written by Founding Chick, Katie Schultz and, from time to time, other Founding Chicks will weigh in as well. These entries will vary and will include personal observations, thoughts, and ponderings. Some of them may even have a point or two, if we’re lucky. Along with these updates, we would eventually like this page to serve as a place for our customers, our friends, and brave chicks everywhere to find their voices as well.

I would love to be considered an Expert. I would really like it if I were a world-renowned Expert on some very important subject. It would be fun to be the woman who appears on Good Morning America or CNN when a very smart person is needed to weigh in on a meaty subject. I can see it now – “Next up, we have Katie Schultz, Expert Trapeze Artist here to discuss the highs and lows of swinging from a one-inch bar.” It would just be kind of great to be the person people call upon when rock-solid, unwavering wisdom is needed. And I can say with a fair degree of certainty that there are two subject areas in which I would dare to call myself an Expert. The first would have to be Sandwich-making. I can honestly say that I have mastered the art of creating what is (in my mind, and perhaps in my mind only) the perfect sandwich. I start with two slices, or one bun, one buttery croissant, one bread-selection of my choosing - and there we have the beginning of, what I consider to be, drum roll please, my blank canvas. Add to it the perfect blend of condiments (NOT a place to be stingy, lay them on thick), the right mixture of meats/cheeses/veggies you name it, and…Voila! The perfect sandwich is born! I am being purposely vague here about my methods as well as my ingredients, for if I were to disclose my exact blend of magic, the demand for my culinary (can I use the word “culinary” when we are talking about sandwiches? Nevermind, let’s roll with it) skills could wane, thus decreasing my chances of being called upon as an Expert. You’ll just have to trust me or ask my family and friends about my killer sandwiches – and any one of them who says I am not the Best Sandwich Maker Ever is just being a hater and they’ll get nothing but soup from me in the future. Boring, watery, filled-with-cold-pockets soup.

The second area in which I am an Expert is one that I approach with less enthusiasm. I am an Expert at burying people I love. I have had a vast amount of experience in this area and if Good Morning America called me tomorrow to come on the air and serve as their Resident Expert on burying loved ones, I wouldn’t have to google anything or brush up on my knowledge at all. My biggest worry would be how short I was going to look next to Diane Sawyer. Long-legged witch. Just kidding, I love her. Anyway, I am an expert at saying goodbye forever to people whom I truly, truly love. And I can tell you that it does NOT get easier each time you do it; in fact, it gets harder. I can tell you who I think is the best funeral director in town (Jimmy Chandler, who loves ya, baby?) and who does the best groundskeeping at which cemetery (Can I get a YEAH BOY! for Frannie at Lower Brandywine Cemetery on Route 52?). Don’t cringe if I sound cavalier about these burial details, it’s just that between all the friends and family I have lost during my relatively short lifetime, a girl gets to know things and in my case, becomes downright expert at them.

But here’s the good news, and the overall point of what I am trying to say in this entry: When you become an expert at something, especially something as important as burying someone you love, I think it’s kind of selfish to keep your knowledge to yourself. In my opinion, you are almost obligated to share your expertise with anyone who needs it. So, sure, I have all the logistical information for where to get the best head stone and whom to use as your organist at the service, but more importantly, I also have some pretty good strategies for actually trying to weather/survive/get through the immediate time period surrounding the death of a loved one. There is nothing scientific or medicinal or earth-shattering about my approach to getting through the horror of burying someone you love – and what worked for me may be the worst idea in the world for someone else. But if someone in need has to say goodbye to someone they love, and they’re asking, I’m talking. And here are a few things I tell them (I’m only going to share five today, but I’ve got plenty more if you ever want to hear them):

• If at all possible, don’t spend time with anyone who gets on your nerves. You can barely tolerate the people you love at this point and don’t you have enough on your plate without adding a criminal record to it? And trust me, this goes both ways. You are going to be getting on people’s nerves too – just because you lose someone doesn’t give you the right to be a jerk. For a little while, maybe…but not forever. You’ll know when you’ve pushed your limits, so take a deep breath and just try not to say or do anything you can’t take back. This is very hard, and much easier said than done.
• Let the mail pile up in your mailbox. Those bills and sympathy cards aren’t going anywhere. And the sweet mail carrier in your neighborhood will eventually get sick of trying to shove one more envelope into your mailbox and will leave you a nice green card telling you that you have a “Postal Overflow” issue and that you are to report to the nearest post office in your area to fetch the giant sack of mail that is waiting for you. Don’t be embarrassed if this happens more than once. Bake a cake or something for your mail carrier and try to remember to use eggs. Worked for me, anyway.
• Indulge yourself. Hungry? Eat. Thirsty? Drink. Bad hair day? Get it blown dry, don’t fight with that dryer yourself. If there is something, anything, that appeals to you, even for a moment, let yourself do it – buy the purse, get the mani, burp in public, litter, do whatever you need to do to try to remind your mouth how to smile.
• If you can think of it in the moment (and this one’s a toughie, because it’s hard to see anything but blinding grief much of the time), try to tell your friends/family that you love them, that you see what they are doing and you appreciate it. I know for a fact that I have been and can still be an utter beast because of what has happened in my life. And if I didn’t have my family and friends beside me every step of the way, there is absolutely no chance I would be sitting here in an upright position typing anything that made any kernel of sense.
• Try to spend just a little bit of time alone each day. My friend Barbara told me about this one – she told me to try doing it with no outside noises, and that part of the equation I haven’t mastered yet. I don’t like the whole “no noise” thing. Gotta have music, TV, something on in the background, perhaps to keep the demons at bay. But I DO like being by myself for a period of time each day (this does not always happen) and I am still working on the whole silence thing, and I strongly believe in the value of it.

That’s all I’ve got for today: I make a mean sandwich and I’m not bad to have as your “In Case of Emergency and Or Death” contact person. And those are two things I didn’t know I’d turn out to be an Expert in, but here I am, so I’m working with what I got, right? Here is where my feet have landed so what am I going to do with the ground underneath them? Dance on it, I guess…that’s what my feet tend to do after a while, whether my heart is ready to or not. In what area are you an Expert? And don’t say that you are an Expert of Nothing. I’m not buying it! Write to us and tell us about the Expert you are. Share your wisdom, unleash some secrets, help someone who needs you – it’s what brave chicks do!

FOOTNOTE
Hold the press! The other founding brave chicks - Jackie, Ellen and Mary Liz – could not let this bravery board go out without a little footnote about Katie. In good conscience, we could not let all of you unfortunate ones who have not had the pleasure of meeting Katie go on thinking that all Katie was really good for were two things: a mean sandwich and some unfortunate advice on saying good bye to loved ones. Because as anyone who has had the pleasure of spending even minutes with Katie knows, this Original Brave Chick is ooooh so much more. Although the list of her unique talents could truly be endless, we think that we can summarize so many of them into one overall professional catagory of "lifting spirits". Although we may be somewhat biased – we are confident when we say that Katie is in fact an Expert Spirit Lifter. Whether it be with her enormous smile and always sassy outfits, or the "who knows what she is talking about" things that fly out of her mouth, or her often unsolicited need to break out in dance … within seconds Katie can and will lift your spirits. I (Mary Liz) have written several times to Ellen Degeneres trying to get Katie on her show. (Ellen, if you are reading this you have yet to reply and I seriously think your show is missing out.) In these letters to Ellen I always write about Katie's obvious story of loss and perserverance. However, I always end it emphasizing that if (when) Katie is selected to be a guest on her show that, believe it or not, it would not be a "sad" or even "serious" segment but it would in fact be "a funny, zany, spontaneous" segment that would be sure to please her audiences. I always send in all caps "SHE IS A NUT. SHE WILL MAKE YOU LAUGH AND WOULD MAKE SOME GREAT TV". That point, in spite of all that Katie has endured, always amazes us and makes us shake our heads in awe. So in closing, we needed to make sure that you all knew that while Katie is a professional sandwich maker and professional grief counselor; she is so much more! Thank you Katie for sharing your many talents with us and most of all for lifting our spirits through the good times and the bad. We love you!

My fellow Brave Chick, Ellen Songle, did something the other day, and it really got me thinking. It wasn’t anything overly complicated, but I would argue that it was fairly brave. Here is how it went down: Last Thursday, we had one of our many weekly Brave Chick Meetings scheduled to take place at my home (all of our homes serve as temporary offices for OBC until our wings truly soar and we are able to fly into that river-front office space we all have our eyes on). In any case, the Brave Chick meeting was being held at my house this past week. With my hubby working late, it helps when I don’t have to get a sitter. Well, Founding Chick, Ellen Songle, who gave birth to a BEAUTIFUL baby girl named Fenner two weeks ago, decided that she would allow herself all of five seconds away from her duties at One Brave Chick and told us she didn’t want to miss Thursday’s meeting. She wanted to be there to help us with all of the goals we are trying to achieve this Fall. We had important decisions to make regarding our new website and product line, so she wanted to make the effort and contribute during a time that is critical to the success of our company. There was only one catch: She would need to bring her newborn baby girl, Fenner, to the meeting. To my home: the place where little tiny infant girls had stayed out of for the past year or so because frankly, it just hurt too dang much to smell their smells and hear their cries in a house that hasn’t held a baby’s cry in over a year. She wanted to come and I wanted her there. There are four Founding Chicks, and though each of us can’t be present at every single meeting, nothing feels better than when all four of us are together, bouncing ideas off each other, gaining energy and strength from each other, reminding each other of why we started this company and where we see it going in the future. So to have the four of us there, so soon after Ellen had given birth, was a true gift and I wasn’t going to stand in the way of that. Plus, Fenner and I are going to be family, just as each of us Brave Chicks are to each other and our children - and I don’t want her thinking her Aunt Katie (the fun one about whom she will one day ask Ellen: “Mommy, why is Aunt Katie ALWAYS in high heels? Did God tell her she was never allowed to wear flats or something?”) doesn’t like to be around her. NO. Right off the bat, I wanted Fenner to know that I am cool with her hanging in the Schultz crib; no worries. Babies are welcome here, anytime. It may sting a little, right when the baby comes through our front door, but after a while, we get wrapped up in their beauty, their gurgles, their “babyness” and everything somehow becomes okay.

So now that you have the background of the story, I will get to my point – the thing that I mentioned at the beginning of this entry -The move Ellen made that really got me thinking. As I mentioned, Ellen and Fenner came to the meeting. I had already met Fenner when I visited her shortly after she was born, but the other Brave Chicks and I were ooh-ing and aah-ing over her, and over Ellen who looks like she must have given birth to Fenner out of her ear as there is no discernable evidence of her having been recently pregnant anywhere near her body. I was frustrated because I couldn’t hold Fenner due to the fact that I had a raging cold and didn’t want that to go on record as one of the first welcome-home gifts given to her by her Aunt Katie. So, we got down to business, we four (five including Fenner, who was an absolute angel by the way, sucking on her pacifier like a champ so as not to interrupt our conference call with our web designer. It was like she was saying, “You know what, Chicks, I’m cool. I got this. I really want the milk, but I believe in what you guys are doing here and I’m gonna give you this round. I’m cool with my paci for the duration of the conference call. Do your thang, sweet mamas!” Can you imagine? What a phenomenal little mini-chick, right?) In any event, when the conference call ended, Ellen looked up at me across the table. She was looking at me, looking at her as she nursed Fenner. I’m not quite sure what she saw in my eyes: Sadness? Happiness? Pure joy for my cherished friend? Searing grief for my little girls lost? All of these emotions and more were probably there in my lopsided smile across the kitchen table, my bold attempt at bravery for the night. And instead of looking away or changing the subject, she held my gaze, looked me square in the eye, and said, “I’m sorry. This must be so hard for you. Is this killing you? I didn’t know what to do. Should I have brought her here? I hate it that your girls aren’t here…” And a few other things I can’t remember now because at the time, all I could think was, “I love my friend Ellen. I love that she just took all the scariness right out of this moment, by being brave enough to just call it out on the table and say ‘This is hard and I love you and I don’t know how to fix it, but I just wanted to tell you that I feel it too.’” That’s the thing about hard moments. They’re not really as scary once you call them out on the mat, put a name to them, let them know you know they are there right as they are happening – and that while they may be awkward and hard and horrible to get through, just by addressing them, you have made them a bit smaller – by acknowledging the pain, looking into the eyes of your friend, your spouse, your sister, right in the moment, when the pain feels bigger than you, it somehow makes room for you to breathe again.

“Ellie,” I said, “I love you. I love Fenner. I love that you are here. I would be so sad if you hid her from me or kept her away from me. I want to be fun Aunt Katie, starting right now. Of course it’s hard to see burp cloths and bucket seats and diapers in this house, but I am so happy in my heart for you and I love you for even saying anything at all.”

Just then, my husband, Brian, came in from work. I saw him walk into the kitchen, take in the scene, look at Fenner’s tiny wiggling hands, her head of dark hair, her little pink blanket. I saw something flicker across his face just before he broke into a wide grin and said, “She’s beautiful, Ellen! Welcome to the world, little Fenner!” Damn, I forgot how brave dudes can be too. Took my breath away for a moment as I collected some glasses and stacked them neatly in the dishwasher.

And that’s another thing about hard moments. They often go as quickly as they arrive. Baby Girl in house where two baby girls have died equals pain. Equals difficulty breathing on part of anguished mother. Ellie and I looked at this moment, exchanged a few words, shed a few tears, and got right back to work, arguing over which color to pick for the new shirt we were designing (she is so wrong, and I am SO right, by the way. The girl wouldn’t know cutting-edge color choices if they landed in her laundry basket!). My point is, the only thing to do in a tough situation like this is to make it less scary just by acknowledging it. I promise, it somehow lessens the pain. So, try it out next time you talk to a friend or a family member who is going through something. Find the elephant in the room, and look it right in its big, gray, wrinkly trunk and show it who’s boss. Say what’s on your mind. Say you’re sorry for your friend’s pain. Say that you have absolutely no idea what to say at all. Just say what you have to say right in the moment. Because even if you mumble and cringe and pause and screw the whole thing up, at least you’re trying. You are looking at your friend, right smack in the middle of that godforsaken moment, and letting her know that she is not alone. You are with her and she doesn’t have to shoulder the burden of those heavy sixty seconds all by herself. Keep shrinking the big, scary moments, my friends.
It’s what Brave Chicks do.

So here’s the deal. Anyone who knows me knows that I have a small problem with music. An addiction problem. By this, I mean that I am obsessed with music of all kinds. If I am awake, I am listening to music, working out to music, dancing to music with mad abandon. Beyond this, I am forever searching feverishly on I-Tunes for that one song I was listening to ten years ago when my roommate and I would fly around our apartment spraying unhealthy amounts of hairspray on our gigantic late-nineties coiffs. I am searching for that song that was playing during the last episode of The Hills (which I am way too old and sophisticated to watch, so sue me). I am searching for that song I danced to at my best friend’s wedding. I am usually just one song away from the world’s greatest IPod compilation ever. I mean, EVER. I’ve got Kanye West next to Josh Groban next to the Grateful Dead next to Pearl Jam next to the Beastie Boys next to Toby Keith next to Justin Timberlake, next to Carlie Simon, P Diddy, Shawn Colvin, Tori Amos, Alan Jackson, Alanis Morrisette, Jonatha Brooke, Sia, etc.,…My Ipod reads like some kind of Multiple Personality Disorder and that’s just the way I like it. I celebrate music like I celebrate people: It’s as difficult for me to name a song I can’t find beauty in as it is for me to name a human being I can’t find beauty in – and just what in the heck is wrong with that?

The bottom line is this: To be a BRAVE CHICK, all you have to do is your Grade-A Best. And you have to try to wake up and do it every single day. The one thing that we Founding Chicks want to communicate in today’s entry is that bravery comes in all forms. You do not have to be someone who has suffered a loss or a tragedy in her life to be brave. I need to look no further than my immediate circle of friends to see countless forms of bravery every day. I have a dear friend who had to put her child on a bus to Kindergarten for the first time yesterday. Had to let go of his sweaty hand and watch him climb onto that bus with a driver she didn’t know and find a seat among children she knew very little about…Guess what I call her? Downright brave. I have another friend who leaves her three little children three days a week to go be an amazing pediatrician and fix all the wounds and woes of children who are not hers, all the while missing her own. Know what I call her? Super-smart AND selflessly brave. I have another friend who ran a marathon to raise money for cancer research and she didn’t stop there. She motivated seven other brave chicks to giddyup, lace up their sneakers, raise even more money, and run that absurdly long race right by her side! Running 26.2 miles is brave enough on its own, but doing it while raising money for the best dang cause I can think of? I’d say that is brave, generous and holy-smokes-awe-inspiring from an athletic standpoint. Hats off to any man, woman or child who can put one foot in front of the other for 26.2 consecutive miles! These women in my life whom I have just described take my breath away every day with what they have accomplished in their lives - and they don’t even realize how truly inspirational they are – if it were up to me, I’d make them a whole wardrobe filled with brave chick gear – a shirt or a dress for every day of the week to remind them of what complete and utter goddesses they are!

The thing that we Founding Chicks want you, our One Brave Chick community, to know is that tragedy need not strike you in order to wear our gear. The important concept we are trying to communicate today is that, in the words of Mary J. Blige, YOU. GOTTA. WORK. WHAT. YOU. GOT. At the top of her lungs, this beautiful singer tells us “It’s okay to show yourself some love.” And what better way to show yourself some love than to rock a Brave Chick Shirt? If I am having a tough day, you can bet your last dollar I am reaching into my closet and yanking one of my many brave chick shirts over my head. And even on my good days, I wear my one brave chick gear just to celebrate myself a little, give myself a little boost. These days, at 37 years of age, I gotta seriously work what I got - and what I got doesn’t feel like much some days. I could use some serious botox or plastic surgery or something to give myself a little pick-me-up, and one day I just might go there. In the meantime, I wake up every day, put one foot in front of the other and…yup, I work what I got. All five feet and one inch of me. So, all you beautiful ladies out there, don’t hold back – be PROUD to consider yourself “one brave chick”! Celebrate your fine, fabulous, Queen-like selves! Work what you got, ladies – it’s what brave chicks do.

Friday, July 11, 2008
Writers: Mary Liz Cawley, Jackie Ivy & Ellen Songle

As you may or may not have read from last month’s Bravery Board posting, July is a difficult month for our sweet Katie – THE original brave chick. In an attempt to give Katie some space to celebrate her children – those here and those in Heaven – the other chicks have decided to take over this month’s posting. While our words cannot compare to the incredibly inspiring creations that Katie come up with, our love for her is without limits. For those of you who know Katie, you know what we’re talking about. However, for those of you who have not had the wonderful pleasure of meeting Katie, please let us describe this wonderful and powerful woman. Truly, to know Katie is to love Katie! While she stands only five feet tall, her personality is taller than the trees.

When Katie enters a room, you really can’t help but notice her – her beautiful smile, her always fashionable attire (even when in sweaty work-out clothes), her abounding energy level and her quick wit – she can truly capture the attention of an entire room. Yet at closer look, it is Katie’s genuine and authentic interest in others that are at the crux of her ability to capture her audience’s attention. Here is the perfect example. A few summers ago Katie was attending a party given by “the boss.” Whereas a party full of co-workers is giving expensive bottles of wine in an effort to impress their hosts, Katie enters with a bag full of Winnie the Pooh toys. Why? Because she listens and pays attention. She knows the boss’s son is the apple of his eye and has heard him talk about the son’s obsession with Pooh. Katie’s mind just works that way: why not bring a gift that would please boss and son alike? Brilliant—and kind, and thoughtful.

Katie’s devotion to others is also quite evident in her beloved role as a mother – a mother to Lily, Patrick, Grace and Chloe. An outsider looking in would seriously wonder who has more energy – the kids or the mother? For us insiders most would vote the mother since at the very least the kids take a nap. Katie’s children are her world and without all four of them, she would absolutely not be the person that she is today. Lily gave Katie her first glimpses at motherhood, Patrick and Grace showed her the way, and Chloe showed her how to celebrate it. As this July is the first anniversary of Chloe’s death, this entry is also a tribute to Chloe, her life, and the joy that her life brought to so many of us. Without Katie and Chloe, there would be no company called “One Brave Chick.” As many of you already know, our name came from the strength of Katie and Chloe, and how courageously these two, and the entire Schultz family, faced an unbelievable challenge.

Chloe was diagnosed at 8 weeks with Williams’ Syndrome and told she wouldn’t be around for too long. The Schultz’s’ – all five of them – chose to look forward, to live in the present and soak up each and every valuable second they had with one another. Chloe defied her doctor’s odds and thrived for almost 12 wonderful, fun, family and friend filled months. In Chloe’s beautiful but short life, she showed the world what it was like to be a brave chick. She fought her fight hard and she fought it with a big smile on her face … like mother like daughter!!! One day Brian, Katie’s husband, asked if Katie and Chloe wanted any company at the Children’s Hospital for another test they were enduring. “No, no,” Katie responded. “Some days Chloe and I like to strut down the halls of the hospital like we are two brave chicks.” Damn.

In closing, we have posted an excerpt from Chloe’s Caringbridge website. This entry was posted one year ago and occurred the day after Katie & Brian buried their beautiful and brave Chloe. This is not meant to make people sad, but it is meant to remember and celebrate the life of Chloe Curran Schultz and to be an example of personal perseverance even in the darkest of days. Katie is an INCREDIBLE woman and we are so proud to call her OUR friend and YOUR original brave chick.

CHLOE’S EULOGY: JULY 20,2007:
Good Morning:
I really did not want to get up here and speak today – I wanted to sit this one out this time around, but then I had a vision of our two little girls in Heaven, walking to school in French braids, hand-in-hand and I didn’t want Lily to turn to Chloe and say: “Oh YEAH? Well at MY funeral, Mom and Dad stood up in front of everyone and told them how much they loved me, and at YOURS, they totally lost their marbles and couldn’t even make it up to the microphone.” So…here we are…all of us - AGAIN.

It truly is our worst nightmare and though it is happening before our very eyes, I don’t think the finality of what has happened will hit us for weeks and months to come. One of my friends asked me if I needed anything from Costco yesterday and I asked her if she could pick up some Baby Formula for me. I’m pretty sure we’ll be doing things like that for a while. I always start out by saying, “I’m going to keep this brief” just like I did on Chloe’s Caringbridge Site, and twenty minutes later, there I am asking all of you to “scroll down to part Two”. That’s what we wanted for Chloe. We wanted her to scroll down to “Part Two” of her life. We wanted her to sail through that surgery that was her final chance at survival, and then scroll on down to the next 15 or 20 years that it could have bought us. We are so very proud of how hard she fought. She wanted to stay here with us so badly. Brian was saying the other day how proud he was when Chloe’s Cardiologist, Dr. Baffa said, “You know, when you brought Chloe in to her 9 month check-up, I was surprised. She should have been so small and sickly looking, but instead, she was thriving. She was thriving, and so were we. I’ll never forget the day one of her chubby little legs got caught between the bars of her crib – I whooped and hollered and said, “You Go Girl!!! Look at those thunder thighs!! You knock bottles back like David Ortiz knocks homeruns out of Fenway! She made her daddy so happy! We will never be able to thank all of you for all the love and friendship you have shown us throughout this long, wonderful, terrifying, unbelievable journey. I fear that if I name names, I will forget someone, but each of you knows what you did for us. And you know from what I’ve told you in the past that EVERYTHING you’ve done and said was the RIGHT thing to do. We will spend the rest of our lives trying to thank you for all that you have done for us and our family. I cannot think of two more supportive places to work than PJ Fitzpatick and the law firm of Bifferato Gentilotti – they have been so generous and kind to us throughout this impossible time in our lives – Need a new roof? Go to PJ Fitz – Need sound legal advice, go to Bifferato Gentilotti, OR ELSE! Need the best pediatrician or nurse in the world? Look no further than Dr. John Gould, Joan Sutkowski and the entire staff at Brandywine Pediatrics. And God forbid your child needs help with her heart. For this, you need to look no further than the cardiology department at A.I. Dupont Hospital for Children.

To Chloe, I want to say thank you. Thank you for fighting so hard to stay with us. Thank you for every raspberry and roll-over that you dazzled us with every day of your way-too-short life. Thank you for your Kelly-green pacifiers and your bright pink bows. You wore them so well, my sweet. Thank you for ever so briefly filling the third seat in our triple stroller that we’ve been waiting to fill for years. Thank you for touching my face every time I talked to you. Thank you for working so hard in your physical therapy sessions with Snowelle even when you were tired or cranky. Thank you for teaching me and Daddy to be the kind of parents we never knew we could be.

To Patrick and Grace, who are outside on the playground trying to outswing each other, we must thank you two as well. Thank you for making us laugh through our tears. Thank you for NEVER being jealous of your beautiful little sister. When you are a bit older, we will tell you how you spent hours bathing her, snuggling with her, fighting over who got to hold her next. Thank you for singing crazy hip-hop tunes at the top of your lungs to drown out the sound of mommy’s sobs on the way to school. Your teachers at Grace Preschool and Camp JCC have supported Mommy and Daddy through all of this and we were so proud when they told us that you are two of the happiest kids they’ve ever met – we were proud that we kept you happy despite the agony that we lived through on a daily basis. I’m sorry you miss her so badly right now and that you keep looking for her up in the clouds and get frustrated when you can’t see her. You are so very GOOD at your jobs of being Big Bro and Big Sis, and who knows? Maybe one day, you’ll get the chance to show your talent in this area again. Dad and I will have to get back to you on that.

I want to close by saying that I am so proud of the courageous and loving way my husband helped me through all of this. The thing is, with the two of us, I have trouble finding ways to STOP expressing myself and he sometimes struggles with how to START. Thank God he finds the exact mix of words and actions that keep me from falling down each time I don’t think I can stand another minute. I am so grateful to Chloe’s Grandmothers, GiGi, Grandma and MiMi – No one gives a bath like a GiGi bath - she left not one inch of her girl unscrubbed or unkissed. And Grandma Schultz, she’ll always be your precious Chloe-Ducks. To Chloe’s grandfathers, thank you for loving our girl every step of the way - and to our siblings, there is not a chance we’d be able to get out of bed these days without all of you. To Chloe’s babysitters, Sarah and Chrissey, her other mothers, at the ripe old ages of 22 and 23, each of you taught me how to be a better mom. Thank you for teaching me how to treat Chloe like she was never sick a day in her life. Thank you for gently helping me to STOP dressing her in pajamas and START letting her wear some hot pink bell-bottoms, for crying out loud. Your families are our families and all of you are a huge reason why Chloe smiled as often as she did. You were so brave to take care of our girl and we love you more than words could ever say. By the way, they’re also smokin’ hot and single and I’ll be giving out their numbers in the back of the church after mass for 20 bucks a pop. I’ll shut up now. So much for brief. I’ve said enough. Brian and I are honored that we were and will always be the proud parents of Chloe Curran Schultz. She was HERE, she was OURS, and we will never forget our precious girl. We love you, Chlo!

Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Writer: Katie Schultz

This Bravery Board has been my hardest to write thus far, and as such, I am going to keep this entry shorter than I usually do. I am accustomed to writing when I am inspired, and though I continue to be inspired every day by the courageous women, men and children in my life, I am feeling a bit depleted at the moment. The anniversary of both my daughters’ deaths are looming on the summer calendar, threatening to steal moments of sunshine and laughter during an otherwise carefree June and July. It is very difficult not to currently live in “Countdown Mode.” I constantly look at the calendar and remember what we were doing this time last summer, when Chloe was still alive: “Look here, today was the day we went to Rehobeth to visit with friends and Chloe loved the beach and didn’t register one note of complaint.” And “Look what’s coming – the Fourth of July when she saw her first fireworks and wore the cutest red, white, and blue dress ever created!” And the worst, “Here comes July 16th, the day we finally surrendered our last shred of hope that her heart would beat on its own again.” The calendar can be a cruel and vicious instrument for people who lose loved ones. I dread the dates, would rather that it didn’t occur to me that a certain date was the last time I got a whiff of my chubby little girl, of her sweet lavender, milky scent. But if I were to ignore these dates, it would seem utterly disloyal, a dismissal of some sort, and I cannot bear to be a part of that either.

So, I think I’ll do what I always do when these dates approach. Dread them when I need to, hurl a few expletives at the calendar, reach out to my family and friends when I need to talk about a memory – any memory - of our girls; those filled with laughter and those filled with horror. I am so spoiled by the number of people I can call and just shoot the breeze with about our girls until I don’t feel as sad anymore. I used to do this from the hospital, you know. When I needed a momentary break from sitting beside our struggling girls, I would walk outside the hospital doors, sit next to a tree or some place I could smell flowers or fresh-cut grass, and I would call one of my sisters or one of my friends, all of whom were up to their eyeballs in families and careers of their own. They would be rushing around in the middle of their own chaotic lives, minding their own business and suddenly, BOOM! Bless their innocent, unsuspecting hearts, their cell phones would shriek, and I would blurt out, “Hi. It’s me. Can we talk about dumb stuff, please?” And without missing a beat, each of these brave chicks in my life would launch into the latest celebrity scandal or local gossip. I would soak in every word; find myself ooh-ing and aah-ing, gasping, and even downright giggling, and I would love, love, love that my genius plan had worked! We had successfully talked about “dumb stuff,” for at least five minutes and at some moment during that time, I forgot that I was living in a hospital, saying yet another long goodbye to one of my children. Such gifts those conversations were.

I am feeling stronger as I close this entry, a bit braver now that I have reminded myself that as these hideous dates on the calendar approach this summer, I still have my incredible family and some of the bravest chicks in the world to lift me and my husband up. And I suppose if I could make a suggestion about what you can do, as a friend or family member, when you see the heart of one of your friends literally breaking before your eyes, I think the best thing to do is just shut up and listen. See what your friend needs. Maybe she just needs some good-old fashioned silence and a gentle squeeze of her shoulder. Maybe she needs to punch something, or scream at the top of her lungs – so find her a punching bag and a venue where no one cares about any kind of noise violation. Or maybe she just needs one juicy phone conversation in which you remind her that her funny bone still does, indeed, function. Be willing to talk about dumb stuff, be willing to do whatever it takes to be the friend she needs. It’s what brave chicks do.

April 29, 2008
Writer: Katie Schultz
"Mother’s Day 2008"

Happy Mother’s Day 2008 to all the brave chicks out there, and to all the amazing men and women in their lives who support them every day so they have the energy to be brave!

I was excited to update the Bravery Board today. Working for this company has required each of us Founding Chicks to work harder and longer and faster than we ever thought imaginable. We are so very grateful and even awestruck by the positive reaction we have gotten to our products, our mission, and our company as a whole.

For this Bravery Board entry, I wanted to focus on Mother’s Day, Past, Present and Future. To do this, I decided to go back in time from one year ago when I posted a Mother’s Day entry on my daughter, Chloe’s, caringbridge site. I have to admit that it took some big gulps and a few “YOU CAN DO IT’S!” in my head to scroll back through all my caringbridge entries and go back in time to Mother’s Day 2007. I knew when I did this that I would come face-to-face with the “old me.” The me who was still full of hope that my fourth child, Chloe (my second one to die) would pull out a miracle and be laughing all the way to her 90th birthday. I was afraid to look at this old version of myself, the one who still had hope. But I made myself do it, and it wasn’t nearly as scary as I thought it would be. The truth is, I recognized that Old Katie. In fact, she still sounds a lot like me. She talked too much, and had more optimism than she had a right to, but I think I’d still root for her when push came to shove…so, for the first part of this Bravery Board entry, I am simply going to post exactly what I wrote in Chloe’s caringbridge website just twelve months ago. It is still so strange for me to know that Chloe was alive as recently as last Mother’s Day. It seems like forever that she’s been gone. In any event, here is the entry…Meet me, Katie Schultz, one year ago.

Mother’s Day 2007 (The Past)

“So, after all, 2007 was a great Mother’s Day! I took myself down a long road of Memory Lane tonight to remind myself how grateful I should be today, and it actually worked. I looked back and thought, you know, things could be worse - I'm not in a hospital - I am home with my family all around me. In May of 2003, my first Mother’s Day ever, I took Lily to what I thought was an appointment for Acid Reflux and ended up spending my first Mother’s Day ever in A.I. DuPont Children’s Hospital. I remember calling my mother in a state of total shock and crying, “They want her to be admitted into the Neurology Department! They think she’s having seizures!!” It was so surreal; it felt like it was happening to someone else. Surely, not to me, Katie Schultz, happy-go-lucky mother-of-one, on my very first Mother’s Day ever!!! Of course, that was just the first of many nights at A.I. and the last time I ever felt like what it was to be just another mommy of just another healthy baby girl. Mother’s Day 2004 was different. By then, I had buried my first-born, but was five months pregnant with the miracle-twins that would piece my broken heart back together. I remember going to the Wilmington Flower Market with my mom’s best friend, Margo Measley – I just called her up and asked her to go with me because many of my friends had small children and I just felt like hanging around with someone whose kids were all grown up and in college. She was a veteran at this motherhood gig and she was also someone whose thumb was as dirt-brown as mine, so we could go to the Flower Market together, and buy plants together in the sunshine, never admitting to anyone that, within weeks, these blooming pink beauties would meet an untimely and premature demise. Mother’s Day at the Flower Market in 2005 was my best ever – I was a card-carrying member of the Mom’s Club!! I had my very own double-stroller and two fat healthy babies slurping up baby food and taking in every color and ride around them!! People stopped and stared and wondered how I kept it all together with these two little babies just wreaking havoc on the world!! I loved every second of it and pinched myself that I had found such happiness! Mother’s Day at Flower Market 2006 was a little strained. Once again, I had the twins in their double stroller, but now, I was pregnant with a baby girl – a baby girl who the doctors said SHOULD be fine – she passed all the tests, but she was still measuring small for her age – they told me I was small and I was such an active woman, so I probably just had a little version of me within me – “a tiny spitfire with the heart of a lion” they said – In any event, I hoped for the best and bought funnel cakes for all us to munch on. Well, Mother’s Day at the Flower Market in 2007 today was okay too – My mom and I brought the twins, deciding it was too hot for Chloe – and we had a great time overall…and Mother’s Day itself was really good too. My little sis, Molly, came home from D.C. and she asked me what I wanted for Mother’s Day. I told her what I really wanted was to just organize my disaster of a house – so she entertained my unruly children while I finally put my sweaters in a storage bin and retrieved my Spring clothes, happy and full of color, that are just begging to be worn. My hubby, Brian, surprised me with fun gifts and a full clean-out of the garage – which I am delighted to say can now fit my car – hooray!!! And, we had a wonderful family dinner, with Chloe sitting right next to us, grinning the whole way through because she was awake and accounted for while her older brother and sister were fast asleep at 7:30 p.m.!! Such a spoiled little girl – but I just can’t seem to say no to that one. Anyway, I’ll stop rambling – I want to close by telling you about the new pictures I am posting on this site. Ruthie Kleinman, an incredibly talented photographer whose heart is a thousand times larger than her camera, called me up out of the clear blue and gushed about the flowers at a local museum and would not take no for an answer until the entire Schultz family was present and accounted for at Winterthur Museum – she said she just had to take our pictures out there – and she created magic like I have never seen before. She has an innate ability to create truly intimate moments between family members – She herself is an incredibly devoted mother to her beautiful son, Craig, so she truly knows how to capture a family on film – I would have included the family shots as well, but I think I must have had an exceptionally bad night the night before – my eyes are so puffy from crying that I am too vain to include the family shots – sometimes, even the best under-eye concealer just does not get it done! Anyway, Ruthie is a true gift in our lives, so, I will unashamedly plug her as Ruthie Kleinman, BEST Photographer at 302.377.6453 or Ruthie15@comcast.net. If you ever need anyone to capture magical family moments for you, she’s your girl. I hope everyone had a happy Mother’s Day. I know I did.”

Mother’s Day 2008 (The Present)

So, after reading the entry above that I wrote one year ago, I have a few observations. One thing that I have to be perfectly honest about is that my poor husband’s efforts in the garage are long-since a thing of the past, and the only car I could currently fit into our garage would be one of the matchbox variety. That bad boy is stuffed to the gills with every manner of nonsense and I am 100% certain that the gift that I will ask for again this year will be for him to please clean out the garage so I can once again park in there. I am pretty sure this should just continue to be my annual gift as it seems to have a shelf-life of 30 days and is certain to surprise and delight me when it happens, year after year.

Another observation that I am happy to talk about is that, as always, it is clear that Mother’s Day Weekend is forever linked in my mind with the Wilmington Flower Market, the local carnival/flower show/gift festival that I have been going to since I was a baby. And the cool part is that this year, I will actually be there with my fellow Founding Chicks as a vendor. We will be there with our very own booth of one brave chick products. This is clearly something I could never have imagined one year ago. Never in my wildest dreams would I have been able to fathom that some of my dearest friends and I would have our own company, whose goal it would be to empower women and help them believe and know that they are brave. In my own humble opinion, that’s a pretty cool legacy to give to my little girls who are not lucky enough to be ordering cotton candy at the Flower Market this year. I would so much prefer it if they were begging me to get their faces painted; but since this is a dream that I have to let go of, I’ll take finding a way to honor their bravery and pass it on to the others. I’ll take that gift and try with all that I am to pass it on to others.

One final observation that I’ll make is that the last line of my entry in 2007 actually kind of shocked me. In it, I wrote, “I hope everyone had a happy Mother’s Day. I know I did.” When I read that line just now, my mouth dropped open in shock. I was actually happy last Mother’s Day? Are you kidding me??!!! What in the heck did I have to be happy about? I had a little baby girl who everyone told me could die at any moment. Why wasn’t I in a psych ward somewhere trying to get my hands on every bottle of cough syrup in the unit? Search me! I guess the lesson here is that it really is important to journal your thoughts, just so you have proof when time has passed that you really were surviving your very toughest times. If someone asked me today, at this moment, what my Mother’s Day 2007 was like, I would tell them it must have been terrible. I must have been looking over my shoulder and crying non-stop, planning Chloe’s funeral and losing my mind. But because I captured my thoughts in Chloe’s caringbridge journal, where I have always told the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, I know that at the time, I was doing okay. I was getting up in the morning, putting both of my shoes on my feet, and taking my children to the Wilmington Flower Market for fast rides and fried food. And I was saying that I had a Happy Mother’s Day. I’m so glad my family and I found a way to make this happen. I am so glad for Chloe and our twins that we weren’t so busy feeling sorry for ourselves that we forgot how to smile and slurp down some funnel cakes. Makes me feel kind of brave, kind of like in between our tears, we found a way to make things feel somewhat normal, and that’s a good thing, if you ask me.

Mother’s Day 2009 (The Future)

Now for the tricky part. As a Founding Chick, I am supposed to be an expert in bravery. And some of the time, this is true – hopefully, even most of the time. But certainly, NOT all of the time. So, when speaking about future Mother’s Days to come, I have to confess, I am not feeling so brave. In the months right after Chloe died, I was certain that I wanted to become a mother again. I even wrote that I did in my bio on this website. But as I think of Mother’s Day 2009, one year from today, I have to say that I am just not certain about the future. My husband, Brian, and I have discussed this, and the truth of the matter is, I’m just not sure we are up for all of it again. Not up for the fertility treatments and/or surrogacy or adoption efforts or whatever else it would take to add one more member to the Schultz household. I’m just not sure I’m brave enough to endure all the uncertainty associated with becoming a parent again. It takes such a VAST amount of courage to sign up for the parenthood gig. And at this point, I think we just need a bit more time to see how we are doing as a family of four in the aftermath of all our trauma before plunging headfirst into another batch of uncertainty. Man, it’s tough to put all these real thoughts out into the world. Trust me, if you think I don’t pause before putting some of my deepest fears on the internet, you’re wrong. I just can’t think of a better way to try to connect with people than by being honest about my own experiences with love and loss and the way I go about trying to still find happiness in the world. So that’s it, that’s all I’ve got for today’s submission to the Bravery Board. I wish each and every brave chick out there, and all the people in your lives who love and support you a wonderful Mother’s Day 2008. Thank you for logging on to our site. Thank you for believing in a company that for us Five Founding Chicks is a daily work in progress. We celebrate all that you are and all that you do! Don’t forget to take a moment this Mother’s Day to journal a few of your thoughts. You will cherish them some day as proof of your bravery, I promise! Get writing, my friends, record your thoughts, celebrate your own efforts, it’s what brave chicks do!

If you'd like to make a comment about this Bravery Board entry, please do so under the "Your Voice" section of this website. Go to our Bravery Forums and sign on to the "Bravery Board Guestbook" forum. The Founding Chicks check these forums every day, so please let us hear your voice!

Inaugural Submission
March 9, 2008
Written by: Katie Schultz
“Showing Up”

Today is my older sister, Sarah’s, birthday. She is turning 39. For her birthday this year, she will be getting twelve weeks of chemotherapy and one very bald head. She is going to be fine, I know this in my heart; since the initial bad news, the rest of the news has been very, very good. But she has moments when she is heartbroken, scared, angry, unsure of how to explain to her baby girls why her long blond hair will be missing for a while. You’d think with all my firsthand trauma experience, I would have just the right words. I mean, in my fairly short lifetime, I’ve already buried one younger sister and two daughters; my college roommate and another dear friend in 9/11, all of my grandparents, former students, the list goes on and on - I should have the right words for any given earth-shattering situation. Still though, I struggle to find the perfect combination of words that could bring my sister some measure of comfort right now. For all my bluster, words are failing me here. They just don’t seem to be enough. But I know how to do one thing, so I’m doing it – and it’s simply this: show up. I. KNOW. HOW. TO. SHOW. THE. HECK. UP. I can hop on a plane to Atlanta faster than you can say “GO BRAVES!”. And that’s what I’m doing, once a month until this chemo nonsense is over. I leave my own children at home, in the care of my loving hubby and my brave-chick-girlfriends, because when Brave Chicks circle the wagons, we circle them tightly, and no man, woman or child is left feeling alone or forgotten.

That’s what I want to talk about in this first submission – Showing Up. After all, this is how the other founding chicks re-entered my life. Sure, they were there in the periphery of my world – some from my early childhood years, others as fellow mommies on countless play dates in the sun. But when I was pregnant with my fourth baby, Chloe, and my doctors told me I had to stay in bed to help her grow a bit, the Founding Chicks started showing up in spades and haven’t stopped ever since. My husband and I have been so blessed with amazing family and friends - and unfortunately, these good folks have become seasoned warriors when it comes to helping us care for and then say goodbye to our sick baby girls.

The unique way in which my co-founding Brave Chicks started “showing up” in the chaotic life of mine and Brian’s is something that simply must be shared. Let me just interject at this point that “showing up” does not always work in every situation. Sometimes, the people going through the crisis don’t want people to show up – they need some time and space to sort through everything in their own private way. So, it’s important to sort of gauge whether or not a person going through a difficult time even wants you to show up at all. In the Schultz Household, where I am the Mama Bee, we’re big fans of showing up. Serious “stuff” happens in this family all the time and we’re big believers in the concept of “Safety in Numbers.” You may want to call first in case one of us is in a hum-dinger of a mood, but you can bet your last dollar that we want you to show the heck up. It’s what we need, as a family, to get through our dark days.

Showing up can come in all forms, that’s what my co-founding Brave Chicks taught me. When the news was handed down that our two-month-old daughter Chloe was living on borrowed time and probably wouldn’t make it to her first birthday, our closest friends, spearheaded by local Wilmington brave chicks like Theresa Stover and Liz Christopher, joined forces with the Founding Chicks and put together a plan that I think Heads of State would find to be impressive. By the time the docs sent us home from the hospital telling us that our daughter could literally die at any moment, our friends and brave chicks were way ahead of the game. Cleaning people every week? Check. Friends coming over to do laundry? Check. People taking shifts to hang with Chloe so I could take the twins out for a special play date? Check. See how many different ways there are to show up? Dinner on our doorstep every night? Check, check, check. Founding Chick Mary Liz lugged over a big old cooler and stuck it right on our front doorstep. In beautiful handwriting with the biggest, blackest Sharpie she could find, she had written on that cooler, “Thanks for dinner! Put it right in this big blue box! Love, The Schultz Family.” She did not write, “Don’t knock on the door as people inside this house might be seriously crying their eyes out, just leave the dang food!” but it was kind of inferred. Turned out, I ended up hiding that cooler because I loved it so much when people showed the heck up with dinner every night. I never kept track of who was coming when because so many generous people came forward. It was like a high school, college, work-friends reunion all wrapped up into one every night of the week. And Chloe found her way into the arms of most of the people trying to feed us, sly girl that she was. Having people show up with all those dinners really sustained us in the months following Chloe’s scary diagnosis.

Other ways that my co-founding Brave Chicks showed up were kind of funny. One day out of the blue, I opened the front door, sleepless and bitter, only to stumble upon a gift-wrapped box from one of the snazziest boutiques in town – a place I normally wouldn’t dare to enter. I ripped open the box and found the sauciest little shirt I’d ever seen. I’d had about enough Mass Cards and platitudes, so this little number was just what I needed. The message from the Brave Chicks written on the card that came with this shirt told me to put it on and have a fun night on the town. Instead, I put it straight on that moment, scooped up my terminally ill but non-stop smiling little girl and strutted right out to the grocery store in broad daylight. It was my way of showing Death who was boss (at least on that day), and man, it felt good. From that day forward, I decided to dress up whenever I am feeling down. This could explain why I was wearing a bright green dress with white polka-dots on the day when Chloe went into multiple-organ failure at the hospital and drew her last breath. It was her last chance to prove she could survive on her own without the help of a heart/lung machine and I was dressed for battle. This was the true fight for her life, and I certainly didn’t want her to think the only thing her mama could muster up was a ratty old pair of sweats. No ma’am, not on my watch. I thought that maybe if I dressed for a celebration, Chloe would give us a reason to celebrate. I still have this dress – I gave it to a dear friend of mine, JoAnne, and asked her to dry-clean it as it was wet and dirty by the time Brian and I dragged ourselves home from the hospital after we said our last goodbyes. It took me a few months, but I finally asked JoJo to give it back to me - and she did. I plan on wearing it again some day and thinking of my girl the whole time. Clothes are like armor at times, which is why the one brave chick apparel is so close to my heart.