Eric, my dad, and I showed up for the walk, early in the morning. It was a gloomy day and the threat of rain was present throughout the morning. It was surreal looking around at everything... I looked up at the stage and there were butterflies decorating it. Butterflies... I used to hate butterflies. I hated what they were made out of. It was gross to me. But now they have a completely different meaning to me. A meaning of life... it doesn't really die, instead, it turns into something beautiful. Just like my Cameron. I kept looking at the stage, and it bought tears to my eyes. The symbolism... the presence... the feeling that Cameron was looking down on us, knowing we were doing this for him.
List of babies gone too soon, helped by March of Dimes
They had a table set-up with a display of babies names that were now in heaven while under the care of March of Dimes. Of course Cameron wasn't listed since he did not receive their services, but they had blank sheets available for people to write their child's name on it to display along with the others. I wrote Cameron's name... I was the first to write a name. For a while, it was the only one that was handwritten. It was sad, but I was kinda thankful about it. Thankful there wasn't as many babies that were lost... thankful as many other parents didn't feel the grief that no parent should feel... As the day went on though, many more names started being listed and pinned up. I hope all those babies knew that people were out there that loved them... people were out there to bring awareness to the loss of babies. And remembering them and honoring them.
I joined the March of Dimes with my work group. They all showed up wearing the work shirts... Eric and I stayed up the night before making our own. I wanted to make sure I wore a shirt that represented Cameron... the reason for our walk. I wanted people to see him... to recognize him. To know that he is loved, and he is our son.
Eric and I
So, the march started and we walked. My father and Eric came along... my mom has had a broken foot, so she wasn't able to make it. I have to say, I was getting annoyed when we first got there by my dad. I think I took this walk so seriously because there are so few things I can do for my baby... he's not here on earth for me to do things for him like other moms can... so when things like this come along, I want to give my all to honor him. But when we got there, it didn't seem like my dad wanted to walk all that much. He was trying to find the closest parking spots, complaining about walking around the lot, complaining about whatever... joking about how to cut through things to make the walk shorter. And then it seemed to catch on to Eric... And they both started joking about it. I hated it. I hated that they were minimizing our remembrance of my son. I know they didn't mean harm, but for the so few things that I can do for Cameron, I hate making jokes out of them.
My dad and I with the shirts Eric and I created
Even as walking, I started getting tired. My ankle started hurting from an old injury... but I kept talking to myself, telling myself, I'm doing this for you, Cameron. My tiredness and injury is nothing compared to what Cameron had to go through. Cameron never got to walk... but I'm doing it for him. No pain that I feel is anything compared to what Cameron has lost... his life.
I think we all felt an accomplishment seeing the finish line. As we were crossing the finish line, I saw a lady in front of me with a shirt representing her baby she had lost... it was only two weeks prior to that. Wow, I thought. I don't know if I could have done this two weeks after I lost Cameron. It was still too raw... I was still in a wallow of my own depression. I could barely move from my bed or couch. There wasn't a day I didn't spend crying... I thought of how brave she must have been to be out here and how proud her baby must be of knowing how much his mom loved them. That mom was putting all her grief aside to do this walk for her baby... and it was probably the most important thing to her at that moment. Like it was to me.
So, Cameron, know that me and your daddy and grandpa were out there for you. We are remembering you and loving you as best we could since we can't take care of you in person. We love you and miss you more than anything. I hope you saw us and hope you are feeling loved and happy.
BTW, there is still time to donate to my march. You can visit http://www.marchforbabies.org/4cameron to make a donation. Thank you