It's crazy and sad to think that Cameron would have been 4 months old today. There's not an hour that goes by that Melissa and I don't think about her. I thought after a couple of months things might start getting easier, but time doesn't change the fact that we aren't taking a 4-month picture with Cami tonight, posting it on social media, and sharing our love for her with the world; enjoying all of our sleepless nights cuddling her, kissing her, and watching her grow. The fact that Melissa and I are still a family of 2 is so extremely heartbreaking. Both of us are back at work trying to resume that daily routine and sense of normalcy, but it's not as easy as we were hoping. Sure there are things like work, TV, friends, exercise, and other things that can help take our minds off of her. But you know those moments every night before bed, when you shut your eyes right before you fall asleep, your mind wanders until it finally settles down and you fall asleep? Every night, those moments are filled with memories (good and bad) of Cami for both of us. It's the only time during the day when it is impossible to be distracted by something else. Maybe it's good that we think of her during those moments, to make up for the time during the day that we "forgot" about her. Maybe that's how we'll fall asleep every night until we have another child. Maybe that's my main connection to Cami now that I can't have a physical one with her. I don't like going to bed sad and teary-eyed, but I also don't want to lose those memories and connection with my daughter.
Tomorrow, Melissa and I are heading back to CS Mott to see all of our nurses and give them some donations for the heart floor. Using the extra money from the #CamiStrong shirts, we were able to purchase 100 Zipline books and almost 400 lovies for current and future heart patients. Tomorrow will be extremely emotional being back in the same spot we spent Cami's entire life. We are excited to see our nursing family, some of whom we never had a chance to say goodbye to. We are thrilled that we are able to donate back to the unit that took such good care of Cami. We hope the 100 heart surgery patients who will receive a Zipline book will remember how special and unique they are. We hope the 400 kids who will get a lovie will be comforted during some difficult times in the same way that they calmed and comforted Cami.
Along with my emotional connection, I'm hoping these books, lovies, your contributions, and all of our memories of her will create a lasting legacy of such a sweet girl.