100 Days of Blogging: Grieve Out Loud

Dear Cameron,

Happy 100 days!

We have shared our story, experiences, thoughts and encouragement for the past 100 days! We have been brave enough to keep going and keep sharing all while ignoring what they think along the way. 

We have endured 100 days of discouragement and 100 days of encouragement.We have endured the terrible insensitive things people have said to "help" us.
Thanks.

As raw, painful, and rude as grief can be, she has this way of making me feel human.
If I have learned one thing over the past 100 days about about grief, it is this.

Through all the pain, the hurt, the moments; 
through the feelings of wanting to give up and turn my back on everything and everyone, I have learned this from grief:

Although dark and raw and numb sometimes, grief can be beautiful. Everyday she teaches me about the person I can be; the person I truly am. She has lifted a cloak I have been hiding under for 22 years and now Domonique is blossoming. Domonique is being revealed. She, along with perseverance and God, has strengthened my faith. She has showed me it's okay to cry, scream, and weep because I am human; because I am a mother.

These 100 days have been my platform, my mark; my story. Touching the lives and sharing my story; your story Cam, with the world, is a part of the reason I have not given up. Shedding light, building my testimony, and breaking the silence is a what grief has encouraged me to keep doing. The past 100 days can attest for this.

So, on this 100th day of blogging, I will leave you with this.

Remember me
stumbling, crying, screaming.
Remember me
ranting, praying, begging.

Remember me now
Still Breathing.
Still Living.
Still Loving.
Still Standing.

Remember me
and never count me out.
Remember me on November 7th
Domonique.
A mother. Still lifted on her platform 100 days and counting.

I still don't know who I am, but grief has showed me who I am not.

I love you so much honey. More than I can ever describe.

Love Always,

Mommy

Tragedy Turned to Triumph

Dear Cameron,

I love you honey and I miss you terribly.

Today I participated in another event in your honor- March for Babies. I created a team, Walking for Cameron, that included Auntie, Gigi, and myself and set a goal for us to raise $200.00 for March of Dimes in your name.  However, in less than thirty day, we raised more than double our goal! The support from family, friends, coworkers and complete strangers who were touched by your story has been unbelievable. That is proof alone that your story, Cameron, is being heard and together we are breaking the silence.

After working a long, and late, eight hour shift at the restaurant, I was left with little time to get a good night's sleep. We left for the walk this morning at 5:30 am. The morning's darkness is one I am not familiar with. As we prepared my car and hit the road in route for a three hour and forty minute drive to Chesapeake, Virginia, I couldn't help but to think I wouldn't even be giving back the way I have been if you had been here. Questions such as:

Would I have made donations to March for Babies?

Will I continue to participate in events similar to March for Babies or is this just a phase?

played over and over again exhausted mind.

I fell asleep and woke up again constantly during the drive. One time I woke up just as the sun was peaking through the rain clouds and thought to myself how God creates such beauty even in the middle of a storm.

When we finally arrived at the event, I was surprised at how many people had come. Some families wore their custom t-shirts supporting their miracle baby; their little NICU graduate.  Other families wore t-shirts similar to mine; in memory of their little love. I remember reading the words "Until we Meet Again" on the back of one bereaved mother's custom shirt as she pulled her son in a plastic wagon.  My eyes watered a little.

Once the two and a half mile walk began, I instantly thought of you Cam. I was brought back to that raw day, June 7, 2013, when I was told those heart breaking words no mother wants to hear

"...I'm so sorry..." 

I glanced around at the sponsors and volunteers and wondered about their story- their testimony. I wondered what brought them to this event. Who were they walking for?
Shortly after, another thought, encouraging this time, came to my mind.

Everyone here, every soul walking in front and behind me, is walking for a purpose. They may share a story similar to mine, or one not so similar, however, they are all here for one reason and that reason is for someone. Someone they know, love or care about is important enough for the sponsors and volunteers to take time from their day to spend walking these miles. They are walking in someone's name; in someone's honor. 

To see everyone of all ages and nationalities come together for one purpose was beautiful, but most importantly, showed that there are people out there who are passionate through anger, grief, triumph or whatever it is, to the point they want to do something about it and make a difference.

So on today, as I, again, honored your wonderful memory and walked in the honor of other babies, with other families and my own, I was also reminded of this:

First, a lot of courage and perseverance is associated in participating in events such as March for Babies. Secondly, you are so loved baby. The individuals who donated to team Walking for Cameron, find you, important enough to support this cause. Next, every step counts, but the hurt, passion and love is enough fuel to continue to take the steps needed to make a difference and to keep going. And lastly, "the way tragedy has turned to triumph is only a transition that can be orchestrated by God alone."


Every baby deserves the chance to live a long healthy life.

I love you Cam.

Love Always,

Mommy