Something so primal goes through me when I look at Cameron's picture. I can't explain it! I just stare, and it feels as if my heart wants to leap right out of my chest. I fight the urge of my arms wanting to reach out for a baby who's no longer there. This confuses me...it confuses my mind, and more than anything, confuses my heart. I know I'm a mother damn it...so why isn't my baby here with me?!
It's like those stories you hear of animals in the wild. Where the baby passes and the mother can't quite grasp it. She knows the baby is gone, but still insists on holding onto him. We, of course are not able to do that. I wouldn't "want" to, and heaven knows I would be labeled mentally insane. But, even though I don't want to, there's that urge. That strange urge inside me to just hold onto him for a little while longer. To have him here, wrapped in his blanket, in my arms.
Sure, the optimal thing would be for him to be here - a healthy newborn, heavy in my arms. But honestly, even if he was the way he was on July 31 - still as can be - I would still want him in my arms. Just to have a little more time. But, it's time I know I'll never get back, and that's what kills me inside.
I was so hoping this week would be a great one! I want to go to this walk with "happy" thoughts in knowing that all of what is going on that day, is for Cameron and the others. If I'm a mess, so be it. Atleast this time, I'll have hundreds of other around me who know EXACTLY what I'm crying for. I won't have people looking at me like something is wrong with me, or thinking that I need counseling because, *GASP*, it's been 2 months and I "shouldn't still be crying".