20 days ago we brought baby girl home. She was wrapped in pink and grey (thank you http://www.peacefulreflections.net/) and carried in the house with love and awe and a deep respect for life — for gestation, for living memories, and beyond.

We envisioned bringing her home and watching big Sis and big Brother dote on her and get instantly uncomfortable with their sense of entitlement to attention.

I could already picture her wearing Chassitty’s baby clothes and joking with my mom over which little girl had the chubbiest thighs.

I hate the idea that this kid we loved so much already simply wasn’t meant to be ours. But if we search deep for a silver lining, some good things *did* happen, and some bad things happened in the midst of goodness around us. My husband was coincidentally by my side at each snowball roll (from a finding during an NT ultrasound to a CVS procedure to biopsy my placenta to bleeding and a lost heartbeat to my water breaking at a Chipotle parking lot to the delivery in Kaiser’s ER bathroom). My godmother happened to be in town from Mexico and added a layer of motherly support. And my sister camped out in the ER to keep me company all night.

We also stopped. We loved deeper. We were more patient. We were more grateful. And we are spending more time with Chassitty and Xol and learning how to better support their journeys.

Every loss is a loss and people process in many ways. I got to deliver my daughter. I stared at her and apologized for the genetic fluke that weakened her body. As traumatic as that was, it also validated her existence and gave us a peaceful goodbye.

During a follow up doctor appointment, the OB said I was cleared to return to normal activity. I wanted to uppercut her for implying there was such a thing.

Like, what does that even look like? My reality felt like taking a water break during a marathon, being hit by a car, and then having your coach tell you to shake it off and keep going. Meanwhile, your leg is bleeding and you’ve lost one shoe and somehow you’re forcing yourself to #keepup without asking for the nearest aid station.

Truthfully, I’ve spent the last several weeks angry. Angry at the universe for picking us to bestow this experience upon. Angry with the world for moving on without us at our best. But mostly, angry with myself for leading a high stress life. For having been on a jet plane across the country just days before we lost her. For having waited so long to have kids again. For being unhealthy and overtired.

There are days when I can’t think of anything else. And there are days taken over by Trello and email and family. It’s been an ugly wrenching tussle that’s got to stop. Because focusing on what I couldn’t have continues to take from me. And meanwhile, what I do have requires me to show up in whole. Like an awesome job supporting early stage founders making hard things. Like these two:

It’s hard to know what support you need until trauma comes. I found comfort in asking questions of women willing to share their own experiences of fear, loss, sadness, anger, guilt and many other emotions. MIT Moms in particular, were #awesomesauce. I took deep, long breadths reading the beautiful cards and messages sent our way from people thinking of us.

Now, I’ll be there as a resource for others — to drive over and give them a hug. To pour them coffee and stare blankly with them or listen while they process. To tell them, like my dad told me, “[there are] no words.” To remind them to be kind to themselves. And to repeat the dreaded statement — time heals — with the added caveat that it may take a long, nearly infinite, time.

About nine months before 500 Startups announced Monique Woodard would join their team, two minority founders would launch LA’s first hardware accelerator in the quiet town of Chatsworth (~58% Latino per 2010 census data) in Los Angeles’ San Fernando Valley.

The founders share five degrees from MIT, Univ of Penn’s Wharton School and Wash U, have a long history of supporting the tech and STEM pipeline through grass roots volunteer and charity work, and had decade+ tech careers prior to launching this initiative to de-risk hardware startups by focusing on the team, the technology, the market and the manufacturing process.

In October, they would add a third partner, thereby creating the first woman-and-Latina-majority owned accelerator and fund in the United States.

Make in L.A.’s first cohort offered international diversity, with 3 of the 4 teams representing a country other than the US. The team’s second cohort includes women on the founding teams of 3 of the 4 companies and an all-female founding team.

Monique’s addition to 500 Startups is a big win for the large establishment of program-focused investors. But at a boutique accelerator in LA’s San Fernando Valley, Noramay, Shaun & Carmen have been ahead of the curve.

Make in LA — first female-led accelerator in the US? was originally published in Athena Talks on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.