When I was pregnant with my son, J, I knew it was a boy. I dreamed in blue, bought little sun suits with sailboats and cars, and picked a name all before we even had the sonogram. I craved grilled meats and cheesecake constantly. When they placed the transducer on my belly the
Perinatalogist said "oops, hope you wanted to know what the sex was". There was no doubt. It was quite clear we were having a boy. After 2 weeks the
amnio results confirmed the diagnosis, but it didn't matter. That baby was Jacob Alan. Family started inscribing teddy bears and building toy boxes with initials on them. We talked about him like he was a person already here. People would call..."How's Jacob?" or comment on my belly "Wow, Jacob sure is getting big!".
With our daughter, things we much different. First of all, I could have sworn I was having a boy. I nearly fell off the table when she said "It's a girl!". B actually thought I was upset. No honey, that was just shock. We had lists of names we started compiling back when we had started trying to conceive (1 1/2 years earlier). The girl names were all pretty. They all had similar traits: feminine and sophisticated, yet fun at the same time. Emily, Elizabeth, Emma, Madeline, Caroline...and the list went on. I guess in hind sight we always knew it would be Emma, but we couldn't commit (or let's just say I couldn't commit). I wanted to see her face and hold her, get to know her before I put such a permanent label on her. That was my plan.
Unfortunately, plans are made to be broken. After the birth I was mostly out of it. I had been given
Benadryl for some reaction I was having,
phenergan for nausea, and was completely paralyzed from the neck down. During that beautiful moment I got to hold my baby for the first time I had nurses yelling at me to nurse her now because her blood sugar was too low. I couldn't do it. She wouldn't latch. Several people were shoving my boobs in her face and it was just making her mad. Finally everyone left us alone for a brief moment and my husband muttered "She needs a name....how about Emma Elizabeth?". I said "fine, it's good". I just wanted to study her face and hold her. A few hours later when someone addressed her as Emma, I was a little shocked at first, but it finally settled. I think the comment was "Emma is so beautiful!".
Yes, she is quite lovely. And her name fits her beautifully. Her movements in my belly were always sweet but noticeable and pretty constant. I craved orange juice, fruit and milkshakes....all very sweet. She is feminine and charming, pretty and sweet all at the same time. Emma is the perfect name for her.
Even though this knee-jerk reaction name turned out so wonderfully, I can't say that I am prepared to go through another delivery in the same manner. Yes, I want to see her first in a way. But I also do not want any pressure to name her until after my C-section drugs have worn off and I have had some alone time with the new baby. This girl is very different from Emma. She is a little more obscure. I feel her movements only a few times a day. She is very quiet. I sometimes have to jar her to hear from her like she is in her own little world. She does respond to E's voice (which I find completely amazing and wonderful). I have frequent cravings for sushi,
Chinese food and random candies I have never cared for before like circus peanuts and
root beer barrels. This one might be hard to name.
We still tend towards the feminine,
girly traditional. You won't see a
Cameryn or Riley from us. But still we can't settle on just one name. I have my favorites, but every time I mention one B just rolls his eyes or changes the subject. Why do men think they have as much say in the naming rights of children? Don't the realize who is doing all the hard work??? During the times he rolls his eyes at me I kindly remind him that he named E, and now it's my turn.