As I recently posted and as I wrote last year and the year before, October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, October 15 in particular our day. I was impressed with the coverage this year, especially in mainstream publications such as People and The Huffington Post. These stories are not niche, after all. They are common and therefore general interest like many other aspects of parenting.

On October 15 this year, I was at Bethany Beach, Delaware with my mom and my daughter. And the entire day was beautiful. In the morning, we bundled and strolled the boardwalk. The tiny downtown was decorated for fall, and H. shouted “Pumpkin!” at each one she found. She went over and hugged and kissed them, too. “Hi, Pumpkin.” “Bye bye, Pumpkin.” All she is saying these days just about crushes me—her language such a powerful reveal of her little mind. “See you soon, Mama,” she says whenever she strolls a few feet away.

Mid-day, we all rested. While H. napped, I posted new hearts.

In the afternoon, the sun bright overhead, we took H. to the beach. It was only her third time at the ocean and truly her first time as an upright explorer, which I find somewhat devastating for the child of two native Pacific Oceaners. But, oh, to witness the wonder as she patiently took it all in: the sand on her feet, the shovels we used to dig, the roar of the water as we moved closer. Soon enough, she was running for it, just as I’m told her surfing father did as a toddler. As we greeted those waves—small for me, huge for her—I lifted her up and set her back down, the water rushing over three generations of toes again and again. I found a seashell and H. found a rock for her bucket. It was all so… perfect.

And at 7 p.m., along with the millions of others who have lost their babies, we lit candles for Lorenzo. We placed the shells and stones alongside and passed the minutes as soft music played. I thought mostly about all that Lorenzo has allowed to happen, to be because he couldn’t be. I think so many thoughts about him at all times of day the year round. I am always his mother.