My Truth About Grief: Stress

Dear Cameron,

I love you.

There is one word that can properly describe the feeling that has consumed every ounce of my body and bits of my soul; stress.

There are moments when I find my self on the edge, getting ready to dive in a sea of tears with pain, hurt, and grief trailing behind me. As soon as I'm ready to take that leap; that long and terrifying dive to spend a moment, or two, swimming around in my own personal sea of tears, something anchors me to the ledge and forces me to turn my attention away from my dive; from my healing.

I want to get it out, but people and their demands won't allow me to. People (claim) they need me. But can't I be needed later?

People want to talk to me about "something".
But can that something wait until tomorrow.

Can I have MY day? Can I, just for a moment, catch my breath?

Over the past few weeks, I have discovered new thing related to grief and that is:

1. I'm Not Only Grieving You Cam, But Also the "New Normal"
I'm, reluctantly, learning what the new normal is. How to live it. How to embrace it.

2. I'm Grieving the Loss of Friendships
I'm not the same person I was before you and I never will be. There are friendships I have had to put some distance between for personal reasons. The ones who said

"I'm here when you need me."

Now have office hours.

3. I'm Grieving the Feeling of Emptiness
Empty arms, hearts, womb and rooms echoing with a thunderous silence.

I guess what I'm trying to say is grief comes in many forms. I have used many tactics such as pounds of make-up, a heavy college work load, and the need to help, listen, and please others, to mask myself from her line of vision. I have said "I'm okay" when I really wasn't. I have carried my own cross as well as the cross of others. I have unconsciously shoved the feelings, my soul has been dying to release, for so long that it has caused a stress that feels like "day one" of this journey.

Not anymore. I refuse to allow myself to ever do that again. My feelings, or moments, will no longer come second to anything. I will never bottle it up the way I have been. Crying, along with other things, helps me. When I'm ready to take my courageous and much needed leap into my sea of tears, I will.



Love Always,

Mommy

 

October 15th: A Day of Rememberance

Dear Cameron,

I love you.

In October 1988, President Ronald Reagan proclaimed October as National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. Today is October 15, 2013. Today is considered a day of remembrance for babies who were loss during pregnancy and infant death. Today is a day to honor and remember the children who have left this earth to be with the Lord.

Chandler and Cameron's Balloon

On this day, I not only honor you, Cameron, but I first solute and honor all the parents who have had to bury their child(ren). On this day, October 15, 2013, I remember the families who had to give their babies their first and last kiss. I honor the parents who, so bravely, walked out of hospitals, around the world, lonely, broken and empty handed. I solute the parents who keep their child(ren)'s memory alive; the parents who courageously share their story. I honor the parents who live life, laugh, love and grieve; I honor them. 

Today, Deborah, the mother of baby girl Chandler born sleeping, and I released balloons in the honor of you both. It was so much fun! While today is indeed a day of remembrance, we decided to use this day as a joyous celebration. We had 12 balloons: four pinks, four whites, and four blues. Inside each balloon was a small led light that made the balloon glow.  

After we said "I love you" and "I miss you", we let go of our balloons and watched as they gracefully floated in the air. The sky was a dark bluish mixed with purple. The balloons looked like little stars dancing across the sky. The cool light breeze helped them as if directing them towards the two of you. Three landed in a nearby tree, but loosened themselves free and continued with the others. That was funny.

It reminded me of blowing a puffy dandelion and watching the seeds float in the same direction on a nice summer day, but never seeing where they ended up landing.  
We watched the sky in awe keeping our eyes on the bright balloons until they were out of sight; disappearing behind the clouds. 

Once we released the balloons.

My eyes watered a little bit, watching the balloons and thinking of you.  This time they weren't tears of sadness and sorrow, but tears of joy. I smiled a lot thinking of how proud you are of me and how courageous I have been. Doing this, sending you the balloons, felt like you were so close. It felt like I could finally reach you for the first time in four months. 
I like that feeling. 

I finally pressed the pause button on life and caught my breath. 
Thank You Lord for giving me rest in the middle of chaos.

So on this day sweetheart dedicated to remembering you, Chandler and other babies, I also remember and honor their families. I pray that God continues to give them the same peace He has given Deborah and I. I pray that families look to the sky and in the midst of darkness, they see a sprinkle, glimmer, or whatever they want to call it, of light. I like to think of that little light as hope, soaring across the sky to someone who needs it. 

My sweet Cameron, mommy loves you so much! 
I will always remember you baby.

Love Always,

Mommy

March for Babies: Walking for Cameron

Hello everyone-

I want to take a moment and thank all of you around the globe for reading the letters to my son Cameron. I started this blog as a way to keep my son's memory alive as I travel down the path of grief. I love all the support I have received over these past four months. I hope these letters speak truth and provide encouragement to all of my readers who have and have not experienced the heart of a bereaved parent! Please stay encouraged! 

Continuing, my family and I are participating in the March of Dimes March for Babies. Every year thousands of babies are born too soon placing them in NICU. While some graduate by gaining the weight, eating and breathing on their own, and controlling their body temperature, some babies, unfortunately, do not. March of Dimes provides research towards better and more up to date technology to help keep these children alive as well as programs for pregnant women to help them have healthy full-term babies. The March for Babies is a way to remember babies who graduated from NICU, those still fighting in NICU and those who have sadly lost the battle. 

We, my family and I, are Cameron's Crew and, to continue keeping his memory alive, we're walking in his name, baby Chandler's name and sweet baby Jaiden's name.  These are all babies gone before they they took their first breaths. We are also walking for baby London. She is a sweet baby girl who will be entering the world preterm when she reaches 34 weeks.

Please donate to my page and help me reach my goal for March of Dime March for Babies. All the proceeds go directly to March of Dimes to help better their research and funding for their programs. The website is secure and I do not get any of the money. Any amount is appreciated. 

On be half of angels Cameron, Chandler, and Jaiden, and their families, we really appreciate your donation towards March of Dimes March for Babies! 

You may visit the website directly by clicking here!

If that does not work, the direct link is www.marchforbabies.org/cameron0608 .

Thank you.

Domonique 

Cameron's Symphony

Dear Cameron, 

I love you so much honey.
I remember this day. It was when you were much younger. I think about 16 or 17 weeks.
It was comforting hearing your heartbeat and feeling you squirm around after I got off work. 

It reminded me of a beautiful symphony that only the few are able to participate in. The rhythm of my blood pumping through to your little veins and baby organs was a soothing indication of life. 
It was such a blessing to be a part of something so uncontrollable. 




*this is a recording of my son's actual heartbeat recorded by me, Domonique, using a home doppler and microphone. recording took place on 4/4/13 at 2:42 am*

Listening to your heartbeat still brings me the same comfort now as it did then.
I love it. 



I love you baby.

Love Always, 

Mommy

Dear God,

Dear God,

I miss my son so much. 

My first instinct is to ask a bunch of questions. The main one:

Why not me; why not my life instead of Cameron's?

Lord, you know I would have gladly given up my life in the place of my son. But this letter isn't about that...

Dear God, You have my attention.

God, thank You for being with me every step of the way. From January 17, 2013, the moment I found out, until today; now. For tomorrow and the day after, the months and years after that, thank You Lord. For grabbing me by the hand and preparing me for what was about to come. For the warnings, for the preparations.  Thank You for directing me to the decisions you helped me make when I had no clue, thank You.
Thank You for wisdom.

For opening my ears to hear Your voice and listen to Your word, thank You Lord. For brightening my eyes and widening my vision to follow your word. Thank You. For giving me a heart to receive and let someone, Cameron, in, thank You so much Lord.
Thank You for using Cameron as a way for me to get closer to You. 


Thank You Lord for being with me that day; those days. Thank You for Your grace, mercy, love and protection in the room on that raw day. Thank You for loving me, when, on June 7, 2013, I stopped loving You. For laboring nearly 25 hours then giving me the strength to push my baby, my son, Cameron, from my unmedicated body. Lord thank You for no complications, no defects, no accidents. Thank You for allowing me to see my child at peace. Thank You for all 17 hours I had to be with him. For carving my beautiful Cameron in Your image. Thank You Lord that my son is in no more pain, that he is no longer suffering, that he is with you! Thank you for giving me the power to leave the hospital empty handed, hurt, broken and afraid. 
Thank You for strength. 

For removing the numbest I held in my heart; for giving me bravery when I didn't want to be brave. For giving me the will to get out of bed day after day after day Lord thank You. For not allowing me to sink into a deep depression; for comforting me every night I cried myself to sleep. Thank You Lord for giving me rest and releasing the tension that often caused me to be restless. 
Thank You for comfort. 

For my friends and family who never stopped praying for me. For the hugs and kisses from strangers and nonstrangers. For a loving church family who interceeded for me and my blood family. Thank you. For the support and love from my coworkers.  For blessing me with such an awesome mother who sacrifices so much so that Cameron and I could have. Thank You Lord.
Thank You for Family.

Thank You for wiping every tear. For guiding my every step. Thank You for giving me a reason to live.  Thank You Lord God for getting me this far; for getting me over the many road blocks I have encountered. Thank You for grabbing me by the hand; for reminding me that I'm never alone. Thank You for maturing my patience and maturing my faith. I trust you. Thank You for building and molding me over the pass 4 months into the complete woman You intend for me to become. Thank You for saving me. Thank You for Your purpose.
Thank you for making me a mother. 

To say embarking on this path is easy would be a lie. This is hard. This is the toughest trial of my life, but I'm so glad that I know You...and I have a lot to thank You for.

شكرا لك, Merci, BENIGNE FACIS, Спасибо, Obrigado, salamat, Danke, 

ありがとうございました, Tack, ¡gracias, Thank You

Dear God, I'm listening. 

Love, 

Domonique