Our Story

Gabrielle (Gabby) Elizabeth Tuck (b: July 31, 2009-d: July 31, 2009). 

August 6, 2009.

As I was inside of my apartment in Montgomery, I began to look at myself in the mirror.  I was still struggling to digest the events that had transpired in the hours and days prior.  I stared at the numerous bruises I had on my hands, legs, and feet that reflected the efforts—albeit successful efforts—of numerous doctors and nurses to save my life. Just a day prior, on August 5, 2009, I was being administered my last rites by the priest that was sent to my bedside in the hospital. 

August 5, 2009 was the day I felt the beginnings of death. I was dying—and fast.  My blood pressure was 220/146 and with a body temperature of 105 and rising, I was dying from Methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus Aureus, also known as MRSA.  I remember being told that they were sending in a trauma nurse from Birmingham, Alabama to find a vein in my body to administer a lifesaving antibiotic drug called Vancomycin. 

I didn’t want to fight for my life.  All I wanted at that moment is to join my daughter in the morgue.  I was so out of my mind at that time, I was later told by a nurse that I kept saying to let me go because my daughter was waiting for me.  Yet, I survived and felt like a complete failure and selfish for doing so.

You see, I learned in July 2009 what happens to a mother’s spirit when the natural evolution of life is disrupted.  I felt off balanced. Like a failure. Selfish.

I was one of the women that would always say, “There is absolutely no way another human being was coming from my body.”  Yep, but God clearly stated otherwise. My pregnancy with my baby girl was a complete and utter surprise.   Saying I was scared was an understatement. I was terrified of becoming a mother.  My journey into motherhood was—well very rough in the physical sense. Morning sickness, pains and fatigue plagued my entire pregnancy with her.

Fast forward to July 18, 2009 at 1:05am and I quickly realized how rough things were about to get.  I drove myself to Baptist East in Montgomery thinking well, I am not quite sure what the clear fluid was that my body was dispelling but hoping the doctors there could make it stop.  I did not know that this was the beginning of the end of my pregnancy.

Thirteen days later, on July 31, 2009, my baby girl was born into Heaven at 8:33am at just 22 weeks and 4 days gestation.

It took months for me to begin the healing process. I went through the motions of returning to work, laughing in public—appearing normal.  No one realized that I was merely existing.  I thought that I had to place a time limit on my grief and pain.  At one point through my emotional struggles, I even attempted to end my suffering—by attempting to end my life.  When my suicide attempt failed, this worsened my feelings of failure.  This further added to my bouts of rage, anger, intense sadness and not to mention—postpartum depression.  To deal with my emotions, my partner at the time (now my husband), urged me to attend sessions with a psychologist. 

In the months that followed my therapy, I started crafting and working out to channel my emotions behind losing my daughter. On December 28, 2019, 10 years and 5 months later, is when God placed in my spirit the drive—and purpose behind GabbyCrafts. 

GabbyCrafts mission, purpose, motivation, customer care and quality are all based off the love that Gabrielle had for me—and the eternal love that I have for her.