Just Visiting

Way down at the bottom of my blogroll, there was a link called "Tiny Baby". Trevor James Millimaci was a baby whose site I came across one day while bloghopping through random sites. He was very, very tiny when he was born, with many complications. I think his mom started the blog because it was all she could think of to do with her time, since he was stuck there in the hospital, connected to feeders and machines and tubes, and she was home, without him.

I was once a premature baby too, so I took interest in this little guy.

Week after week, I'd tentatively pop in, hoping things were looking up, and that he'd eventually go home. And he did. I rooted for him each time he'd gain a pound. His mom posted pictures of him with his big sisters as he grew and grew, and started to look more like a little guy and less like a very, very premature baby.

He had big round eyes and a surprised o of a mouth. He wore fuzzy blue outfits and a cow Halloween costume. He had a Christmas. He smiled. A lot. And he started to talk. And then, some time in late June, when I'd let my visits to the site lapse for many months, Trevor James Millimaci died.

It seemed like he was home free. He was so much bigger and stronger, and he had people that loved him, and I'm sure they hoped and hoped he was out of the woods. But parts of him weren't strong enough.

I was just going to delete the link and not say anything. I didn't know him, didn't know them, at all. But as I scrolled through the pictures that preceded the image of the flowers in the cemetery, I saw his smile, just like any other little baby's, and the hopeful posts of childhood milestones finally, heroically reached, and I couldn't let him just disappear without saying something. In this peculiar internet world, we can't help but make human connections. I cared about what happened to him.

Rest in Peace, beautiful Trevor James Millimaci. If there is a heaven, you are in it, and all the things that little boys love are there.