Choosing a baby name is a terrifying task.
When I was younger, I had a few on my list. Some fancy-pants names, such as Mariana, Catherine, Victoria, and Elizabeth. Some simpler ones, such as Kaylie, Kyler, and Skylie. But I hadn't given names too much thought since my college days, when I was nowhere near close to motherhood.
Seriously. Nowhere NEAR close.
When Josh and I found out we were pregnant, I decided not to dabble in baby names too heavily until we knew what we were having.
It gave me a headache.
However, the middle name Rose was a non-negotiable for a girl. Mom's middle name was Rosellen, which she split for Laura Rose and Audrey Ellen. I always adored my middle name and have wanted to give it to my daughter for a long time.
One day, in the miry misery that was the first trimester, Josh came into our room and randomly said, "Emma Rose is a pretty name. For a girl." Apparently, my friend Christina had texted him the idea because she is determined to map out the fates of all the children in our friend group. I replied in a non-committal way--yes, that was nice name, but surely we would see many great names when we got to searching.
Darn that Christina.
It wasn't long before I started practicing Emma Rose quietly to myself. Imagining a little Emma with white-blonde curls bopping around the house. I even waded into dangerous territory by asking the baby if her name was Emma before we found out the gender.
After we confirmed the baby's femininity, I went into the name search with a vengeance.
WOW.
UGH.
Like drinking out a moniker hose.
To make matters worse, I realized that Emma was considered the top name in the US, and then I felt bad for wanting to name my baby something so common.
I didn't realize that it was too late.
Every name that I liked was put to the "But do I like it as much as I like Emma?" test.
Did it sound as nice?
Did it have any nicknames I didn't like?
Would it be as easy to spell?
Would it sound right on an adult as well as a baby (the way that Emma does)?
Teachers also have a unique problem in that we've met MANY children...some of whom have ruined names for us entirely. And in all my travels and placements, it was hard to hear a name without already having an association to put with it.
Take Madeleine, for example. A lovely name, but it would inevitably get shortened to Maddie, the name of the dog who lived in my college house.
Emma, however, had no problem associations. All the Emmas I've known have been intelligent and classy, including my dear friend Emma St. John. It's easy to spell, has a solid meaning ("whole or universal"), sounds lovely, and....feels right. For how popular it is, I haven't seen it used once among the many new babies of my facebook friends.
It's also the only name Josh and I could fully agree on.
We made the final decision last week, and my relief and excitement have grown every day since.
My baby has a name!
Her name is beautiful, just like she is!
She will be a lovely lady and we will have tea parties together!
Emma and Mom! Mom and Emma!
As we finished deciding on her name, I also began to feel the first distinguishable nudges from her tiny hands and feet.
Do they feel much different from gas?
No.
Are they much more exciting than gas?
YES.
Odd, though, to have reminders that a human is moving inside a water balloon in my guts.
Today was our anatomy scan at the perinatal center, which is beside dad's office. The instructions in my packet of paperwork stated that we were only allowed to bring two guests, and while I planned to follow the rules by just bringing mom and Josh, my sister and Dr. Dad showed up as well. Five people who already love this child, watching her on the screen while also referring to her by name was.....
well, it was thrilling to me.
Spending so much time looking at her heart and kidneys was, admittedly, a little boring, but knowing that I was looking at my Emma was sweet. And mom told me afterwards that she had prayed over the body parts as we saw them on the screen--a heart that loved the Lord, hands to serve him, a mind to think of him, etc. It was reminiscent of the prayer I've been saying every time I get nervous about my child's health or future.
Remind me, Lord, that you are are sovereign over her life. She is yours before she is mine.
