I love you and I really miss you.
When I found out I was pregnant with you, I was terrified. I was afraid I would become a statistic. That I wouldn't be able to finish school, have to live off government assistance for the rest of my life, live with my parents and be stuck at my current job forever, waiting tables. Some people compared my accomplishments to your birth father's. They compared the two of us in terms of education and job situations. They put him on this high pedal stool as if he was doing THAT much better than me.
I was constantly reminded how hard it is to raise a child: the expenses, the attention, dedication and sacrifice. I felt defeated and ashamed. Mainly defeated.
One night, your birth father and I went to talk with my Auntie. She really encouraged me. She reminded me what type of person I was, I mean, I am: strong willed, determined, and a go getter. If I want it badly enough, I find a way to make it happen.
The most powerful words she spoke to me, to us, that night with the most stern voice and serious look was
"Domonique, people have done it with far less than what the both of you have...this child will not suffer or go without..."
I worked two jobs, went to school full time, and was getting more tired, and bigger, as the weeks went on, but I finished my Spring 2013 semester with a strong 3.5.
She was right and I was out to prove my doubters wrong.
After I became further along, I made the decision to take the upcoming Fall 2013 semester off. Since your due date was so close to the start of school, I did not want to risk it. I loved you too much and wanted to get to know you by taking some time off from everything and stay with you for as long as I could.
One of the most difficult things to do after your stillbirth is to keep living. It's difficult some days to see that everyone else kept living their lives. The garbageman still comes every Monday and Thursday, my neighbor still leaves for work around 7:30 am, and the kids down the street are still being rushed by their parents to hurry in the car so they will be on time for camp.
Every one's lives kept going on. Was mine suppose to also?
I didn't want to move on. I didn't want to go back to school. I was so afraid that I wasn't ready or I needed more time. Honestly, I'm not sure what I was afraid of. I just didn't want to.
It was then when I sat back and remembered who I am, where I come from, and how I got here. There has never been any challenge too great for me to conquer.
My Auntie's words still encourage me today as much as they did then.
As reluctant as I was, I met with my adviser and registered for classes. It was on July 1, 2013 when I learned I only have three semesters left. My projected graduation date is Fall 2014.
My adviser and I talked today about my goals and how important it is to be a light and an example for others out there who may feel hopeless. For those who may feel so discouraged, defeated, and hurt after such a tragedy. How it's ok to keep living, but not forgetting.
I was looking forward to making more accomplishments with you in my arms or by my side. I couldn't wait to get my degree and have you hold it with me. I was so excited for us to be graduating eventually.
I never had any doubt that I would finish school, it was more of a matter of when I would finish. Especially since I would have had you with me.
But I guess I will still have you with me on that day. You will still be holding my degree with me and we will still be graduating together.
I love you so much and I know that even if you were here physically, your existence would not have stopped me from reaching my goals; you, Cameron, are my reason to keep going.
I promise to live a life that will make you proud.
I will start with finishing these last three semesters for you.
I love you honey, so much.
Love Always,
Mommy
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