I was sitting here thinking that it's going to be 3wks tomorrow. I looked up at Cameron's urn and picture and just smiled and told him I loved him.
It scares me sometimes how well I'm doing with all of this. I've always been able to handle things well on my own, but something like this?!
I think I really may have just come to peace with everything. I give the Lord and Cameron credit for that. Without them, and knowing that they are here for me every step of the way, I don't think I could have even been half as strong.
I am still going to have bad moments, I know this, but honestly, for the most part, I'm doing OK.
I still have to really really think about it to realize that it did actually happen. That I was pregnant and that I did delivery a little baby boy. It just never seems real.
I went to the ER lastnight for some chest pain, and I was asked twice about "pregnancy". Even just saying it seemed weird. It was like a foreign language was coming out of my mouth when I'd say, "Well, I just had a baby on July 31." People perk up, and then when I say he was stillborn, a look of horror and surprise comes over their face. Then there is the usual "I'm so sorry", to which I reply with a polite, "Thank you."
Then after the short conversation is over, I think, "Did that really just take place? Did I just say that? This IS real, isn't it?" It's bizarre.
My dad looked at Cameron's pictures for the first time last night. Him and my mom had talked about it the day before, because I had been upset that he didn't want to see Cameron. I wanted him to know who is grandson was, but I didn't realize that people handle things differently. I was being selfish.
I stood there as he pulled out the picture, waiting...watching. He put the picture back in the packet, stood there for a minute and then turned and looked at me. I have never seen that kind of hurt on my father's face. Tears were streaming down his face, and for the first time, since all of this happened, I found myself comforting someone else. Yes, I was crying, but it was because I was hurt for him. I hate seeing my dad like that. I just hugged him - the type of hug that let's someone know that everything is going to be OK.
I think it was then, in that moment, that I realized that everything really is going to be alright - that I am going to survive this.