Struggling

Oh wow...so today has been very on and off for me.

For one, Aiden started preschool today! The preschool is at the elementary and is in an actual classroom. It reminds me more of pre-K than anything. I just can't believe how big he's getting! Of course I was happy - he looked like such a big boy!
But in the back of my mind, it hit me - I will never get to see Cameron on his first day of preschool. That thought stayed with me almost the entire day.

After we got home, I went outside to sit on the deck and I could feel the tears coming. I closed my eyes, thinking that would stop them. I opened them only to have buckets of tears run down my face. Seriously, I've never had tears that heavy before. That'll teach me to never do that again.
I just sometimes feel that if I close my eyes, I can make this all go away. But, as it was shown today, closing your eyes doesn't make a single thing go away, it just makes it invisible for that moment.

The minute I opened my eyes, and those tears fell, I knew nothing was ever going to be the same for me again. I've known this since the second I found out Cameron's heart stopped beating, but it REALLY hit me today.
I realized that every milestone in life that Aiden hits is only going to remind me of the one's Cameron will never get to experience.
I will never let that overshadow my happiness for Aiden, but it's always going to be there.

It's such a gut-wrenching feeling to know that my son will never run around our yard with his big brother or that he'll never get to experience the taste of ice cream on a hot summer's day. While these things don't define life, they do make it worth living - these tiny experiences make it more fulfilling.
I know Cameron is somewhere where none of that matters. Somewhere where things are beautiful all of the time. I know he's happy and that makes me happy. I'm happy for him, but not for myself.

I just hate knowing that MY son will never be here with me. What sense does that make?! How can that be possible? It's just not right...

Missin' my little man...

I've been thinking a lot about Cameron in the past couple of days. I mean, he's always in my heart and my thoughts go to him constantly throughout the day, but just more so lately.

I cried while driving to work yesterday. Nothing too bad, but definitely some tears. I don't know if it was from seeing all of the pregnant women coming in or if it was from folding the baby boy clothes in the baby section the day before, but something was definitely getting to me. I tried smiling through the tears and telling Cameron I loved him, but it didn't take the sadness away this time.
I was OK by time I actually got to work, but would still stop throughout the day and fall into a semi-daydreaming state. At one point, I walked over to the baby section and grabbed onto a baby blue onesie - newborn size. I grabbed onto it and squeezed it, then ran my fingers down it. All I could think about was how I should be buying those cute little outfits for Cameron to wear in 3 months. I sighed, let out a half smile and went about my business.

Lastnight I was lying on the couch and just started singing. I don't know what brought on the urge, but I did it. I love singing, and it was one of my favorite things to do when I was pregnant with Cameron! Especially during those 3wks of bedrest! I would just lie there and sing to him for hours on end. I miss doing that, and I'm sad I can't really do it anymore. I still sing to him, but he's not where he should be and that's what makes it hard.
I love that I got that special time with him when I did though, and It's something I'll never forget as long as I live.

I then started thinking of his sweet face! God, those chubby little cheeks were just the most precious thing in the entire world! I'm just so incredibly sad that I don't get to see them come Christmas. It's so hard to think about that, but I know we'll do our own special thing for him come Christmas time!

...I just miss him. I have since July 31, and I will for the rest of my life.

Where am I with all of this?

I just realized today that I haven't written in Cameron's journal in a long time. Also, I haven't pulled his things out of his box to look at them, to touch them, to hold them close to me, like I did so often in the first month.

What does this mean?

Well, I haven't quite figured that out yet, but I'm assuming it's a step forward in this horrible process? I still plan on writing in his journal from time to time, and I will still pull his things out of his box to stare at, to touch, and probably shed a tear or two over. But, I don't need those things as my crutch anymore. I used to pull them out when I was having a bad moment, but I've learned to just think about Cameron and think about the love I have for him in my heart. That, in itself, brings peace to me nowadays. Do I still miss him? More than words could ever possibly say! I always will.

It's a confusing feeling - to be stricken with something so horrible and to hurt so bad, and yet start finding peace with it. I don't really know how I'm doing it - it just sort of comes over you.

I also know that in an instant, that peaceful feeling can be torn from you. You feel like you're pushed back to square one. That part of it scares me. I hate feeling like I did in the first days/weeks of losing Cameron, and I don't ever want to go back to those days. It's happened before and I know it can happen again, but I try not to let it. I know deep down that you can't stop it entirely from coming. You can push it back, but it'll only hit you even harder a few days later. I've learned to just let it come because, even though it hurts, I know it'll pass. It sucks to know that I've got to build that part of me up again, but I believe it makes me stronger every time I do it.

I think I'll go write to Cameron right now. I don't know if it will make my night harder or not, but it's something I really want to do right now.

Minor (but annoying) setback!

I'm a little disappointed and a little confused right now.

Ok, well first things first: I did talk with dh and he's on board with trying to conceive again right now. He explained that his only reason for wanting to wait until November was out of concern for me. He didn't want me to be wanting this only because I had just seen his best friend's newborn son. He was afraid me of getting pregnant too soon and becoming depressed or something happening to the baby.
I explained to him that I have been ready for a couple of weeks now. I'm 99.9% ready. That 1% of doubt will ALWAYS be there - out of fear and out of heartache from missing Cameron.
I told him that if I were to get pregnant and we lost the baby early on, then we do and we know it was too soon. As sad as I would be, and as harsh as this may sound, nothing will ever compare to a stillbirth. And if I can get through that, I can get through anything.

I do have to mention something though! As we were lying in bed talking about it, all of a sudden a green light was cast on the ceiling. I looked around because I had no idea what would be causing it! Well I looked down and, on a pillow, on the floor was Cameron's blanket - with my phone lying on top of it. It's the blanket he had with him in the hospital and the one I sleep with everynight. So my phone is lying on his blanket and it turned on out of nowhere! It was putting that green light on the ceiling. So I jokingly turned to Chev and said, "See honey, Cameron's giving us the green light too!" :)


Ok, back to my story. So the TTC talk is out of the way and we're good to go. Problem is, now all of a sudden my body is deciding to be funky. I had the typical post-partum bleeding after delivery for 2wks. Had nothing for 3wks after that and then got my first period. That lasted 5-6 days. Like any regular cycle right? Well that's what I thought!
I had been tempin and charting and all of that fun stuff, and everything pointed to be getting ready to ovulate by the end of this week! But, out of nowhere, the minute Chev and I talk and agree on ttc, I start, what I think is my 2nd period in 2 weeks!!

I'm bummed because...well, 1.) I don't know what's going on with my body now. and 2.) This means we will be put back on ttc.

Maybe it's a sign that we shouldn't be starting so soon, but idk!!!! I am soooo ready, and now this gets thrown in my way and it's just frustrating! My body was doing everything it was supposed to do in order to get back to normal, and now this.

The tears will come

The tightness in my chest is still there, and I know everything is going to come out full force at some point soon. I'm just sitting here, waiting for the inevitable. Just waiting for something to set it off. Although, now that I think about it, nothing ever really "sets it off". I just get an enormous amount of grief that falls over me and then the tears come.

It could also be because Chev's bestfriend and his fiance just had their baby boy yesterday. When they called, I was so happy and excited, but within minutes, my heart began to ache.
I want that, damn it!! I wanted to be able to call everyone on Christmas day and tell them our baby boy was here!! But, I'll never be able to do that now.
I'm excited to see them, but there's a knot in my stomach just thinking about it. I don't want to go in there being a blubbering mess, as I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable. I don't think it will be THAT bad, but I can assure you there will be tears.

I just want to get it "done and over with", so to speak. I don't mean that in a way that I'm not looking forward to seeing them, but it's definitely another hurdle I can't wait to get over. I'm very much the type of person to "get right back on that horse", or to "bite the bullet" when it comes to these challenges. In a way, it's made me a stronger person throughout my life, but in this situation, I'm finding it harder than ever to push through these "milestones" of my grief.

Makes sense, as I've never been through the grieving process. I've never had to worry about holding a baby after a loss, being around pregnant women after a loss, thinking about ttc after a loss. I hate it.

Speaking of TTC, I'm not 100% sure I'm ready at this moment. I mean, for the most part I am, but every once in awhile, I get that feeling like maybe I'm just not. It could all be because I haven't actually sat down with Chev and talked about it yet. I just assumed that after my comments at the Dr's office last week that he would know that I wanted to. There should be no reason he wouldn't want to, unless HE'S not ready. We'll talk tonight, I promise! I need get on the ball if I really want to try this month because my window will be closed by this weekend!
Of course, it all depends on how I feel after we talk!

Just another bad day...

I'm having a bit of a down day. I don't really know where it came from, but I felt it creeping up on me last night around 3am. I was on my way home and an overwhelming sense of sadness came over me. I missed my little boy.

All I could think about is why this had to happen to us! I wanted to go back to a few months ago when I knew none of this - when I was still naive and didn't know something like this could happen to ME. We hear of these horrible things happening, but never do we think we'll fall into that small 1-2% of women it happens to. Then, when it does, we have no idea what the hell happened. How did our worlds get shattered in mere seconds? How are we supposed to make it, knowing we have lost our baby.

I don't know the answers to any of those questions, and I don't know that I ever will. I know I'll be OK. I reminded of this fact everytime I see a mother who has lost a child. I watch her still thrive, and I see she's not withering away like some of us thought we would at one point.

We were at the movies this morning. I had taken Aiden and we met up with my gf who had lost her son at 37wks. Just being around her makes me feel more "normal". Anyway, while we were there, I saw a girl. Someone we had gone to highschool with. She's maybe 2-3yrs older than us and has three little girls. Her first daughter was born a year before Aiden. Her second daughter...well, she's in Heaven. She had Trisomy 18 and lived for 45min after birth - 45min. and then they said goodbye. She went on to have another little girl, and as I watched her with her two daughters, It gave me hope.
She has no idea that we lost Cameron, but I looked at her and wanted to tell her "I know how you feel." Because I know that little angel is always in her heart and always in her thoughts, as Cameron is in mine.

To think that us 3 women were in the same theater. It makes you realize that it happens more often than you think. I didn't know anyone else in there, but who's to say there weren't more us of there. Ugh, "more of us" - it makes it sound like we're of some foreign race or something.

I know I'll get through this day, just as I have the many other days that have came upon me. I just hate them. I hate the feeling it brings inside me - it's just so unfair.

I Remember...

I always go back to so many important dates in the past 2 months. I replay the evening my water broke - the day our world turned upside down.

I remember the Dr. coming in and saying, "Well the baby looks great..." as if everything were OK. Then he says, "The problem is, your fluid is almost completely gone." He showed no emotion in his voice. He was so cold about it and I couldn't believe how he came in as if everything were fine, only to deliver that horrible news to me. I knew it had happened - I could see it on the ultrasound - But to hear it come from his mouth...that was hard. The OB Dr. then came in. He was much sweeter, much more soft-spoken.

Still, he gave us the choice that no mother should ever have to make. I remember him telling me they could induce labor.
I was fine, Cameron was fine, and yet he was asking ME to stop my babies heart. No way could I ever do such a thing. I remember the moment I made the decision to keep going. For Cameron...

I replay the evening we went to the hospital on July 30. I wasn't too worried, and assumed we would be back home again the next day, as it happened before. I remember lying there on the bed as the nurse brought in the u/s machine because she couldn't find Cam's heartbeat. The feeling I had running through me when I saw him there, his little heart fluttering away, is indescribable. I was so relieved and happy, but there was a sadness. I knew deep down something was wrong.

My instincts throughout the entire pregnancy had been amazingly strong. From the moment Cam was conceived, I had a feeling something wasn't right. I thought I was just being over paranoid, but I knew better than that...I just tried ignoring it.

Knowing that my instincts were strong scared me that night.

I remember being woke up at 2:30am to check his heart. It was a beautiful sound to remember before I fell asleep. I woke up at 6:30, knowing they would be in to check his heart again in 30 min. Chev got up and got ready to leave for work. He walked out the door, but I thought nothing of it.
Once again, she couldn't find his heartbeat. This time, my heart started racing a bit faster. She went and got the charge nurse and had her check - nothing. I knew something was wrong then. They got the u/s machine...

Myself, the OB, and my nurse sat there in silence. You could have heard a pin drop. I held my breath as she put the wand on my belly. I didn't look at the screen at first. I scanned the Dr's face and then quickly looked at the nurse to see her face. The Dr. adjusted her glasses and moved the wand a bit more. I looked at the nurse again....she raised her hand to her mouth. I knew. I finally looked at the screen. Everything was so still. Not the slightest of movement from my baby boy. I searched frantically for movement in his chest, but there was nothing.

I remember a feeling of immense grief come over me in that second. I almost forgot to take a breath. Then, when I finally did, I couldn't stop. I went into full panic mode and thought I would start hyperventilating. All I could say was, "Oh God!!!"
I don't remember much after that. I was in shock. I was making the call to Chev and to my mom. To tell them Cameron was gone. I held it together well over the phone and didn't cry much the rest of the afternoon.
I knew what was to happen.

I remember them coming in to give me the medicine to start labor. I didn't want it. I didn't want my body to let go of him. There was such sadness in me when they administered the medicine. I just felt numb...

I remember when it was time. I broke down then because I knew he was coming. I didn't have a choice at that point. It's like being on a roller coaster. You get up to the very top, just before you drop, and you want to get off but you know you can't. You can't go back. It's a scary, panic-stricken feeling.

I remember when he was born. My sweet angel. I held him and just stared at him. He was so little, but so perfect. I remember his little hand being under his cheek, with the other one resting on his heart. It was beautiful. I didn't cry. I felt a great sense of peace holding him in my arms. I have no doubt in my mind that that peace came from a holier being. It was like I had angels there with me, comforting me as I held my forever sleeping son.

I remember that first night. How awful that was. It was sinking in and I hated it. I felt so empty inside and so alone. I wanted Cameron with me! I knew he was just down the hall, in the nursery, but I wanted him back inside me and for him to be fine like he was just a month before! It's a feeling that no one could understand....unless they've lost a baby.

I don't remember much about the days after. I was in a fog. I remember taking a nap on the couch. I woke up, and I was holding my belly. I cracked my eyes and wondered if everything had been a dream. Then, I opened my eyes and looked over at the table and saw the bag that had all of Cameron's things in it. I closed my eyes again and just laid there.

I remember the bittersweet feeling I had when we picked up his tiny urn from the funeral home. I was so happy to have Cameron back, but was heartbroken that I was bringing him home that way.

And I remember each day that passes. I will remember yesterday as another day without my baby, and that's how it'll always be.

I'm glad I get to remember, because I never want to forget a single thing about him. It's just hard when the memories are so sad.


I so look forward to the day when we bring home Aiden and Cameron's little brother or sister. I will look at that baby as a gift from my sweet angel, and as a promise that life is still beautiful even when things have seemed to turn so ugly.