I was pretty sure that yesterday was going to be a hard day. Ducky kept me distracted for the majority of the day as she fussed over her fever and demanded extra cuddles with Mommy. Hubbs went to the family BBQ without us, and then we switched halfway through. I was distracted by the food and listening in on other people's conversations for a while. There were moments during the fireworks though, when it was quiet and no one was talking. I focused on the bright, explosive colors and the smell of smoke. I couldn't help but think how different this 4th of July should have been. Instead of being outside getting mauled by mosquitoes, I should have been inside making sure my baby was fed, happy, and not freaked out by the loud noises. If everything had gone according to plan, and we remained healthy during my pregnancy, he'd be just 2 weeks old now. In reality, he was born and died almost 2 months ago.
Only one person mentioned him. I don't know if it's because people think it would be too painful to bring up or if it's just an uncomfortable thing for them to talk about. I think back to the Infertility walk a few weeks ago, when one of my co-workers asked about Lumpy and genuinely wanted to know about him, it was so nice. If felt so good to share and talk about what an adorable little fighter he was. I miss him, but getting to share his memory kept him present in a way. I wish I could talk about him more, but I fear people don't want to hear it.