The Name Game

Here is a partial list of the criteria we’re considering when deciding on a name for our new baby:

- Is it pretty, but not too sugary sweet?
- Does it sound good with our last name?
- Will her initials spell something inappropriate?
- Does it work equally well for a little baby and a grown woman?
- Will it be mispronounced/misspelled her whole life?
- Will people make it into a nickname? If so, shouldn’t we just name her the nickname?
- How will it look on a resume?
- Does it sound like a pet’s name/food item/soap opera character?
- Will people frequently confuse it with something similar?
- Will it make her the target of schoolyard bullies?
- Is it too common? Is it too weird?
- Does it fit a little too comfortably into the phrase, “Gentlemen, put your hands together…now appearing on the main stage, let’s hear it for [insert name here]!!”?

In short, it’s dang hard to pick a name for a new baby. And so, when Michael and I finally decide on one, we’re planning to keep it to ourselves until after the baby’s born, lest input from others compel us to reconsider. In reality, there’s no name everyone will love, and people will be a lot more polite once the ink’s dry on the birth certificate.

Truth be told, we decided on our frontrunner name option really early on. We had just found out I was pregnant and I’d seen a name in my new baby-name book. For the sake of explanation, I’ll use the code name “Goldilocks.” I said to Michael, “I really like Goldilocks.” He said, “I really like Goldilocks, too. If it’s a girl, we should just go with that.” After several months, we both still really like it.

And so that’s what we’re thinking it’ll be. Of course, it all hinges on our final, most important criteria – once she’s born, do we take a look at her and say, “Yep, that’s our little Goldilocks”? Because all we really want is a name that fits our baby just right.

Baby, It's Cold Outside

Over the course of the next few years, the baby and I will experience many firsts together. This past week, we had one of our first firsts.

We’ve just returned from a trip to Boise to visit Joe and Linda Berberick. We picked the perfect time to go. It was the only time it’s snowed in the city of Boise in recent memory. I'm a San Diego girl through and through, so I've never played in the falling snow. It was a blast. Here are some shots of the baby’s (and my) first time frolicking in the fresh snow.

Winter Wonderland

Keeping Warm the Ol' Fashioned Way

I'm Snow Angel

It's a ...

I lay on my back with my bare belly to the ceiling and I watch their faces – mom, Amy and Michael (dad’s home sick). But mostly, I watch her face – illuminated blue by the flickering monitor in the dark room – trying to detect the first sparks of recognition. It occurs to me that she’ll be the first person in the world to know whether Michael’s and my first child will be a son or a daughter.

Her name is Kelly, an ultrasound tech and co-worker of my mom’s. It’s Christmas Eve, my mom’s office is slow, and we’re getting anxious with anticipation. So we’re back trying to figure out whether the baby’s a boy or a girl. Kelly tells me to shift to my left side, gives a “Hmmm.” Then all the way over to my right side.

“I can stand on my head if you need me too,” I offer.

“No, no. Hopefully we won’t have to resort to that,” Kelly reassures me. Flat on my back again. “I’m just trying to see if anything’s ‘tucked,’” she says, “It’d be great if the baby would just roll over so we could see what we need to see.” With that, I’m convinced Michael’s declaration that it’s a girl is probably right; she’s stubborn just like her mom.

And then it happens. Kelly’s eyebrows raise slightly, her eyes widen. She’s seen what she’s been looking for. She takes a deep breath and says, “Well, it looks like you guys are having a little girl.” The room is filled with “Awwhhhh’s” and “I knew it's.”

We’re all on an adrenaline rush and can’t stop smiling during the ride home. Michael goes outside to smoke the cigar he’d saved for this occasion, and then we all sit in the sun on the patio and talk and laugh. I drag out the baby-name book; we make calls to our family.

I can’t wait to go to the Christmas Eve party tonight at the Gutschmidts’ and share the news. But before we leave, I go online and order the baby her first dress.

The Three Generations

Kelly with the Proud Parents

Dear Daughter: This is a Nasty Habit Which You Should Never Try

What We're Thankful For

We have a whole lot to be thankful for this year. Michael's mom and step dad have been out this week visiting with us and it's been great. We're going to celebrate the birthdays of Michael and my dad tonight. And, I made my first Thanksgiving turkey which turned out perfectly (with a lot of help and guidance from Emeril, Martha and Lynn Weber).

Today we went to my mom's work -- a medical imaging office -- for a second sneak peek at the baby. Lynn, Rich, my mom and my dad got to see first-hand what Michael and I saw a few weeks ago. The baby's doubled in size since then and is now 9 cm "crown to rump," or about 15 cm stretched out.

We were hoping we might see whether the baby's a boy or girl today, but it wasn't to be just yet. Nonetheless, it was amazing watching the screen and seeing how much more developed the baby is. We all watched as it hiccupped, touched its face, and gulped amniotic fluid. And now you can, too:


Baby Face


Hiccup



Slurp, Slurp


Hiccup Again

Our Baby

Now that my co-workers, friends and acquaintances all know about the baby, people ask me almost daily, "So, how are you feeling?" or "How's the baby?" It's more than polite conversation; they really want to know. Mothers offer unsolicited advice and relate stories of their own pregnancies. A print vendor I know stopped me in the hallway today to say that she saw a pregnant lady and thought of me. She wanted to know if I've been sick at all. I think the day will come once I'm bigger that strangers will ask to touch my belly, as though they want to be among the first to connect with the baby.

I've been thinking a lot about why people I hardly know are taking a vested interest in my well-being and that of the baby. I've realized I always used to do that, too, but I'd never really put much thought into it. I think it must have some evolutionary basis, that humans are naturally predisposed to care for babies and the mothers carrying them. Some sort of "It Takes A Village" thing. (Somewhere Sean Hannity is gagging.)

It's an awesome realization, though, to think how much bigger this whole process is than just me and Michael and our future little family. In a way, the responsibility is a little overwhelming. But in another way, I'm relieved to be bringing a baby into a world where so many people are hoping only the best for it. I know we'll all be surrounded by a lot of love and support, and for that I'm very grateful.

Butterflies in My Tummy

I may not be Ally McBeal, but I am convinced that we're having a dancing baby. It's no surprise, really; Michael and I both love to dance and take every opportunity to hone our "signature moves." It could be a friend's wedding, a night out, or just a great song on a Chrysler commercial. OK, to be fair, he's never danced to a Chrysler commercial. That was me. But he did win a breakdancing contest in high school and can still pop-lock with the best of them.

Our offspring is already starting to bust moves of its own. I began feeling flutters a couple weeks ago. It feels like little butterflies moving around, and it tickles when their wings brush against me. On Friday, I took the baby out dancing downtown in celebration of a coworker's 40th birthday. We were on the dance floor for a good couple hours and it was so much fun. Who needs prenatal yoga when you got House of Pain and "Jump Around"?

Saturday night, we went to see Jersey Boys and had dinner at The Hard Rock Café beforehand. The baby was active all night, though it was partial to "Paradise City" and Frankie Valli's "Can't Take My Eyes Off of You." I'm not sure Michael's convinced when I tell him the baby likes the music, but when we're watching our kid at the So You Think You Can Dance finals, he'll understand.

You Told the Bartender Before Us?

I went to happy hour at Tower 23 with my two bridesmaids, Jen and Steph, last night. We had a lot of catching up to do since we hadn't seen each other in a while. And, I was eager to break the news to them.

Jen was running late from work. Steph had locked herself out of her house so she was even later. So, I made friends with the bartender while I waited. I ordered a cranberry juice since I knew the girls would assume it was a vodka-cran. I must have looked pensive, because the bartender asked me what I was thinking about. I said it was kind of a secret until my girlfriends arrived, but it was the reason I wasn't having a cocktail. "Oh, well then. Congratulations, I think?" he said. I just smiled and he comped my drink.

The girls finally arrived and we chatted a while about our trips (they just returned from Costa Rica), the fires, friends. I was getting to the bottom of my drink and I was still thirsty. They'd know the second I ordered a non-alcoholic drink. So I told them. It was something like, "Speaking of knocked up..." Steph said, "Wait, who's knocked up?" I just pointed to my belly. That's right; I'm the knocked-up one.

Jen started crying and Steph beamed her megawatt smile and kept going, "What?!?!" They were both super excited.

At the end of the night, the bartender brought the check, smiled and said, "Congratulations, again." I think the girls were a little miffed because I got a, "Wait you told the bartender before us?" I told them that's what they got for being late.

Look What We Did

Because of our trip and the fires in town, my first ultrasound was a little later than most – 10 weeks rather than eight. It was great, because the baby was much more developed than we expected. When the image appeared on the screen, it literally took my breath away. Michael said only, “Whoa.”

I think I was anticipating a little alien or tadpole, but this looked like a tiny human. Michael and I were both totally transfixed by the image on the screen. The baby appeared to be reclining in a little hammock, sucking its thumb and crossing its legs. We could see arms, legs, fingers and toes.

The baby kicked and moved around when we talked. The beating heart looked like a sparkly little ball in its chest. At one point, it looked like the baby had a fit of hiccups. I haven’t had any symptoms (although my skinny jeans are skinnier than ever) so this made it so much more real to both of us. Here is one of the baby’s first portraits. I’m certain it has a future career in modeling.