I’ve got names on the brain so forgive me if you’ve heard this one before.
Notice I didn’t say stop me? I’ve been listening to baby stories on my Facebook page and got inspired to tell Charlie’s again.
Have I ever told you, oh Interwebs, that Charlie’s name should not be Charlie?
You see, we selected two different names that we like equally. In our heads, one name was for a brown-haired boy and one was for a blonde. We assumed our son would have brown hair like my husband and I both do, and so we also assumed that our son would be named Charlie. We didn’t really call him Charlie in advance or anything, though–we were waiting to see if he looked like a Charlie.
Well, Charlie’s dramatic birth happened and I was given no moment to lovingly cradle my baby in my arms. Instead, I glimpsed a foot and later waved at his isolette as it was rolled off to emergency transport to the Children’s Hospital.
I really wanted to wait–to make sure he looked like a Charlie. But he got sicker and sicker and they called twice asking me if he had a name yet. I hated the idea of him dying without a name. I hated strangers calling him “baby boy.” So Charlie it was.
Later, after the puffiness had gone down and the tubes were removed, Hubby and I agreed–he was not our vision of a Charlie. Had we been given the time, we certainly would have gone with the other name.
At that point, he was Charlie, and had been for several weeks. A legion of people had prayed for “baby Charlie.” There was no going back. Whenever I try to explain that he doesn’t look like a Charlie, people disagree with me. I guess it suits him.
Does your child’s name have a story? I’d love to hear to it.