Cameron's Possibilities

Dear Cameron, 

Hey honey. I love you so much baby. I find myself thinking of you more and more. My imagination about you is so...fun. 

I love thinking, wondering, imagining what kind of child you would have been, what you would have done and said. I love thinking about what your likes and dislikes would have been; your character, your personality. Those are things that bring me joy. 

In my mind, I can describe you; giving you a look. In my mind, you are perfect. 

At only 4 months, I imagine you to be long and chunky, just like the day you were born (I still don't know what to call it). I imagine you sleeping peacefully throughout the night with a small grin across your face; smiling the same smile you had when you were delivered. When you open your itty bitty eyes, that resemble mine almost identically, after taking a long nap, I imagine you looking at me, recognizing who I am and giving me a innocent baby smile.  The kind that signals me to pick you up. And I do. I think I would have been a sucker for you; being wrapped around your cute, but long, baby fingers. 

In my mind, I can develop your personality. I can make you into whoever I want you to be based on your character before you died. In my mind, I give you personality. 

At seven months, I imagine you to be a very lazy baby; only waking up when you're hungry or in the middle of the night wanting to be played with, as you did when I carried you.  I imagine you to enjoy long naps during the day, just like me, your mommy, and long trips to the fridge.  I imagine you squirming closer to me when we lay down together, just as you would do when I had you. It's funny, as soon as I would lay down, I could feel, and see for that matter, you squirming your way the top of my belly. It was as if you were making your way closer to my heart, closer to that sound that soothed you to sleep night after night before; my heartbeat. I imagine you loving the feeling of comfort and stability. 

In my mind, I can imagine who you would be in the future; how mature you would look, how mature you would act. I can imagine how you would carry yourself; imagine the type of person you would be. 

18 years have passed and I imagine you to be a young man of character and civility.  I imagine you being tall, like your birth father and I. You still have my big bright eyes accompanied with a million dollar smile. I imagine you speaking and thinking more intellectually than your peers. Always looking at situations from a different perspective.  I imagine you being a scholar and attending a college or university (I haven't thought about which one, but that doesn't matter).  The money I had been saving since you were only 13 weeks will now be paying your tuition for the next four years. I imagine you to understand and appreciate the value of a dollar and not take advantage of my money being spent. In my mind, you are a gentleman. In my mind you are a wonderful man. 

Growing up, I imagine you to be a lot like me; strong willed, determined, fun, and lazy all wrapped into one. I imagine you to have a drive to want to succeed, but not losing yourself along the way. Always willing to give people a second, third and fourth chance and seeing the good in someone even when there may not be an ounce left. I picture you being a man of God, setting an example for others and having self respect. These are my favorite imaginations. These are the ones that make me smile.

I love making you into anyone I feel like. I love the endless thoughts I can brew together and even shape you into a person. I think that's one of the best part about grief-the possibilities, even if they're wrong; but who cares. It makes me happy thinking of what you could have become.

I love you Cam...so much honey.

Love Always, 

Mommy

A Minute With Cameron

Dear Cameron,

I miss you.

I sometimes imagine God allowing me to see you one last time for a minute or so. I wonder what I would do or even say if I had that chance.

I've pictured myself asking you if you miss me and if you're okay, but then I'm soon reminded how that's a waste of a minute with you.

Then I pictured myself just staring at you wondering if I would recognize your face and you staring back trying to recognize mine. But that's also a waste.

I think if God allowed me a minute, it would begin with a warm embrace. I imagine myself swooping you in my arms with so much love. Everything around us would stand still, or seem as though it was still. Nothing outside of the embrace would matter. I would then look you in your eyes and you stare back at mine smiling that beautiful smile I imagined you having. It is an innocent smile filled with love. The kind of smile you don't need to say much after because the smile is understood...if that makes sense. I then picture myself kissing your forehead; the same way I did the day you were born and the same way I did just before placing you into your bassinet the nurses used to peacefully exit with you. The only difference is that this time there will be no tears, no screaming, and no falling to the floor begging them to take me instead. I lastly picture myself whispering

I love you..

and you confidently saying in return to me in a sweet voice I've only heard in my dreams

I love you too mommy.

I imagine God touching my shoulder, signalling me that my time has ended...and I'm okay. I have no tears, no screams, no falling to the floor, and most of all, no fear. There is only love and a smile shared between us knowing we will see each other again. I vision you giving me one last hug this time ending with a kiss on my cheek; I give you one in return. You let go of me, grab God's hand, and give me one more smile just before turning around slowly and walking away with God. I imagine myself standing up, strong this time, and smile as I watch you both disappear gracefully into a bright light. That's when I know the two of you entered the Kingdom of Heaven.

I love you so much Cameron. I can't wait to see you again.

Love Always,

Mommy

Changing Decisions

Dear Cameron,

I love you and miss you so much.

Everything reminds me of you. I remember you and I making frequent trips to the grocery store walking up and down the aisle. If it looked good, we would buy it. Now, I just avoid grocery stores, and when I find myself going into one, which is very rare, I avoid certain aisle. It always seem to be the smallest things that trigger my favorite memories of you. I don't mind it though. With every day, I get "better"...for a lack of better and more describable words.

I was asked about a month ago

If you could go back in time and warn yourself about what was going to happen, would you?

My first response was

yes.

I've pondered on this question again and again; wondering if that was the correct response. I wondered if it would be fair to force myself to live in fear; waking up each morning thinking to myself "will today be the day". Instead of spending the 25 weeks loving you, taking care of myself, and getting to know you, I would have spent that time countdown the days I had left until I lost you.

It wasn't until I went to dinner on Tuesday with my support group when I finally came to my true and final decision.

 

I resent my first response and would rather reanswer the question, this time with a confident and solid

no. 

If given the opportunity to relive that experience all over again, I would. I would not change anything about those weeks.  They were the best weeks of my life.
I would not force myself to live in fear and countdown the days. It would not be fair to you, Cameron, to subside the love, I still have, knowing I would soon have to, in respects, give you back. Those weeks were filled with an abundance amount of love, patience, compassion, and kindness. Looking back on my life now, I would not dare allow the fear and anticipation of a heartache to come and overshadow the qualities that desperately make me value and  appreciate what I once had.

There are a lot of things in my life I would change or, at least try, to do differently. You, Cameron, are not one of them. The journey of a bereaved parent is one I'm not thrilled to embark, but God knows I'm strong enough to travel. Some people may think I'm insane to not want to try to fix such a tragedy. But I challenge them to think more intellectually. What if you were never meant to be here? What if you fulfilled your purpose and, in one way or another, are helping me fulfill mine?

Lord, in a world where things are hear today and gone the next, thank you for your mercy, love, and grace that is never ending. Thank you for the promises you made to me.  Thank you for your Kingdom and for reminding me that sweet Cam is resting with you and that I will one day leave this grief behind and see my son again.

I love you Cam.

Love Always,

Mommy

 

A Story of Strength

Dear Cameron,

I love you.

The past weeks have been...pleasant, I guess. You would be proud of me. Over the past week and a half, I've discovered that I can truly be happy. In the middle of this mess, God does send some sunshine. Grief does give me a break.

I've been spending  lot of time with my girlfriends; my best girlfriends. They have truly been beyond supportive over the past three months. After having you, I wondered when I would smile again; when I would laugh a genuine laugh. The kind of laugh that has me gasping for breath, but in a good way.
My girlfriends have provided me with that laugh. They helped me find my smile when I felt like crying. They have been there for me so many times. Times when I didn't even want them there and they refused to leave. I locked myself in a bathroom crying once and your Auntie Tyra stood by the door waiting for me. I remember her saying "I'm not leaving until you come out."
Cam, they loved, ...I mean love, you so much. They would have spoiled you rotten.
Baby you are so loved.

" You're so strong Domonique."

If I had a dollar for every time that was told to me, I would be able to pay off my student loans.
But I often wonder what strength really is Cameron.
How does one attain strength especially when they feel so weak?? Why is it that I don't feel strong, but people always see me as a figure of strength? What truly makes me strong?

I'm honestly not sure what strength looks like, but I know where it comes from and that's the Lord. I think He sent me my strength in a couple forms; those forms happen to be my close friends, my family, but especially your Gigi, my mom, Patrice.

Throughout my pregnancy, my mom was so excited. I remember being fearful to even tell her. She said something so profound and meaningful that day at the dinner table. When I felt embarrassed and ashamed about you (sorry about that by the way honey) she told me "This child will not suffer or go without." It was a promise I knew she would keep.

My mother never left me, she always made sure you had whatever it was that you needed. From food to furniture, Gigi made sure you never went without. She would even pack my purse with those nasty, but healthy, pastry snacks we both hated. However she knew I would eat it when I grew desperate enough during the day.
"Did you eat today?!" she would ask me in her high squeaky voice.
"Yeeeessssaaaaa." I would reply back in a clearly annoyed one.

Having my mother with me that weekend was hard. I could look in her eyes and tell she wanted to lift all the emotional pain and heartache I was going through and bare it on her own shoulders. I could tell that she would rather it been her on that bed in my place. That's what mothers do; that's how they think. That's the heart of a mother. To watch me, her child, to go through so much and she have absolutely no control over it is very painful to endure, but she, my mom, did it. She never left. And that is an unbelievable amount of strength.

I guess what I'm trying to say Cam, is that I wouldn't be the strong person I am, without having the strength of other people behind me. This is not a one person deal. It takes the strength of others along with the power of God to produce the strength to get out of bed each morning, to continue living for a purpose and to even share things about your life and mine with complete strangers across world.

There are a lot of things I'm thankful for, but the thing I'm thankful for the most after having you is my mom. There was so much love in that room that day; so much strength from places I didn't even know existed. There was a lot of courage and bravery. I'm glad she was there to hold my hand, wipe my tears, and be my rock and my crutch when I physically and emotionally needed someone to lean on.

I love you honey.

Love Always,

Mommy