Two or maybe three weeks ago, Monk and I were laying in bed, talking. He had his head laying on my stomach and the baby suddenly kicked him right in the ear. It was the first time that he was able to feel the baby - any of our babies - move. He jumped up, surprise apparent on his face and then immediately laid back down and waited. After the second kick, I watched the amazement cross his face. I wasn't entirely sure that I would be allowed to move without his head attached to my abdomen for the rest of my pregnancy. It was more heart-warming than I could ever describe or explain. For all of his "meh" type attitude about the previous pregnancies and losses, feeling the movement sold it for him. And for me, I think I realized that he was more hurt by the losses than he had let on, that he was feeling more nervous and reserved about this pregnancy than I could ever have guessed. It took two kicks and he was suddenly running around town buying baby clothes and paint for the nursery. Two. Kicks.
We've spent the better part of the last several weeks discussing names and we've gotten nowhere really fast. He's referred to the baby as "Emmet" since conception. He has wanted to name a baby Emmet for as long as I've known him. I have no affection for the name, and definitely dislike the idea of naming a baby after a football player. So ..umm...I conceded several years ago and let him name a fish Emmet. So anyway. He's suggested all sorts of names that I hate ..and I've suggested several more that he can't stand. We'll probably leave the hospital with a blank birth certificate - seriously. That's how far apart we are.
Tonight, we started discussing names again. Monk started talking to the baby who appeared to be in a deep sleep as far as I could tell. The conversation went something like this:
"Baby? We need to talk about your name. You can help us pick your name. I want you to kick mama when you hear a name that you like. Okay? Any name that you like ...you kick mama. Okay. Ready?? Gavin? Noah? Elijiah? Jonah? Kaeden? Liam?" And the baby? Said nothing. He went through another 15 or 20 names and eventually came to "Emmet?" And the baby? Said, "Kick. Kick. Kick. Kick."
Monk was incredibly elated. Even I thought it was hilarious. For like two minutes. Then I was forced to point out to Monk that babies want lots of things that aren't good for them and don't have the best judgement.
5 comments:
I love this post. Beautiful. Awesome to read about "Emmet"'s kicks. Makes me smile. : )
Mo
That was really sweet. I'm so glad your husband is so excited. Names are hard. I'd never have guessed that picking baby names was this much of a challenge. We're at the same spot...we can't agree on ANY name except the boy's middle name. I just can't get over how much of an impact this decision will have on another person for 80+ years! So tough. Lots of luck.
Oh, I always wanted to name a boy Elliott. My ex husband and now my current husband both think it is a sissy name. I ended up naming a fish Elliott. It didn't really satisfy the desire, I have to say.
ha ha ha. was he feeling your belly at the time? you could have totally faked it. :)
what's so bad about emmet?
lol ..I tried to fake it. He had me in a football grip and knew I was lying.
I don't mind emmet ...I'm just not naming my son after a football player. The golden child likes it because of twilight!
Awwwww!
I'm just a random blog reader that came across your blog this morning. I also have a blog and just found out that I am pregnant as well (I am 5w3d). My blog is protected to those I invite, and I'm sure it sounds like an odd request, but I'd like to send an invite for you to read it. If you're interested, send me your email address to alyssa.gavinski at gmail.com.
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