me: "What are you talking about?"
"You know, in our old house in Phoenix, sometimes after dinner we would talk about what we wanted to name our baby."
me: [stab me in the heart] "Oh that's right. No, I don't think we decided on a name. Do you have a name?"
"I think we should name him Fizz."
This conversation was the cherry on top. Saturday we'd gone to a b-day party where it seemed at least half the women were pregnant. Seriously.
Sunday at church, b.c we're new, a lot of people innocently ask, "How many children do you have?" I want to explain that I want more children, but we only have one. Instead I say, "Oh, this one - he's enough for now." [insert awkward laugh to keep from crying.]
The infertility grief monster is bAaaack.
Edit: meant to link to this excellent post by Molly Piper on grief, 17 months post still-birth.