I got called "Weeble-Wobble" today. Just after opening the door to my office, a coworker looked up and cheerfully said, "well hey there, Weeble-Wobble!"
Of all of the comments you can say to a pregnant lady, may I suggest that you don't call her names? After trying (and being partially successfull) to hide my disgust and annoyance with a half-intentioned smile back, I answered my coworker's questions. "Do you know what you're having?" And despite the fact that I have told her countless times before, I responded joyfully that I was having a boy. "And what's the name?" She asked, then: "wait! I need to write it down." As she reached for a pen, I proceeded to tell her that we have a name picked out, but that we are not sharing it just yet. "What if it has to do with your shower gift?" she asked mischievously. "You can just write it down and nobody will know."
I was confused at this comment, as I tried to envision what it would be like at the baby shower held by my coworkers. I would be pulling out that gift with our baby's name on it, and say to all of the excited women in the room, "Oh, sorry, I can't show this to you, because it has our baby's name on it." What went through my mind next is which one of the women would be first to dive at me to find out this sacred piece of information and make it public. "Sorry," I told my coworker. "We kind of have a policy; parents and sisters only."
This decision was made not made for others to feel bad about asking, and I do tend to apologize when others ask about the name. My intention is far from being a smug preggo. For one thing, we're into surprises. "Surpise, we're having a baby!" "Surprise, it's a boy!" And when the time comes in a few weeks: "Surprise, his name is" ____!
No, we did not name him "blank." We named him something great. Something great that fits all of our criteria: It is easy to spell. It is not a hippie-name. He will not have 10 classmates with the same name. And he has a great nickname.
Thinking of baby names has always been a favorite conversation piece for us. With the last name of Childe, (pronounced "child" and not "childee"), the running joke is what we cannot name our baby. Favorite examples include: Foster, Julia, Ima, and Harry. Then the game gets a bit siller. We cannot name him Icabod, because his nickname would be Icky Childe. And after some chuckles, it gets out of control, and moves to names like Stupid, Ugly, or Wild.
We had our top four or five names picked out by February. We did not anticipate choosing our son's name before he arrives in the world, but on the morning of my birthday, February 14th, Michael turned to me and said out of the blue, "I think I know what I want to name our son." My heart skipped a beat. One of our names had worked its way into my heart as well. When Michael told me the name, I began to cry. We had picked the same name. I nodded and wiped my snotty nose. "That's his name," I said with a tearful smile. And that's how it was revealed.
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k. you don't have to tell anyone and i mean anyone your baby's name unless- you want too- and as far as your shower goes- it's other people's problem if they get bent out of shape because you aren't telling them the name- i've been to plenty of shower- and no name was shared- so you are just fine- your pal- liz
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