What's in a name?

The room was dark; the only light was the faint glow from two small monitors above the medical table. The nurse focused her eyes on the screens as her right hand intently worked around Priscilla’s stomach. When we had Camille, we didn’t find out the sex until the moment she came out of the womb. That moment of discovery is one of the highlights of my life. This time my wife couldn’t wait. I fought the urge to know, but when the appointment is made and everyone else’s mind is made up, the anxiousness begins to set. I tried to go about life without focusing on that date, but I eagerly waited for the future to become the present.

I have always had the premonition I would only have girls. I don’t know why, but it’s a sentiment that has always been firmly entrenched in my gut. You grow up believing that the major verdicts in life – and I am referring to those that are completely out of your hands – are typically school, or job related. These are ginormous decisions that distinctly shape your entire future. I never thought differently, but this moment was in fact one of them.

I did the work, but the decision – healthy or not, boy or girl – is truly beyond my control. The nurse quietly continued her work and each minute felt longer. I screamed in my mind: Say something lady! I felt the room shrinking. A series of outcomes raced through my mind. If I leave here without knowing the sex, this lady will hear it. The imaginary movie played in my mind of me throwing a fit, but on the outside, I gave the impression of calmness.

The clock hand continued to make its way around and yet I still …had …nothing. All she pointed out were stills of a baby I could barely make out. The head. The feet. I nodded as if I saw it clear as day.

Finally the moment arrived.

“It’s a girl.” As if the nurse knew the words failed to immediately register in my mind, she spelt it out in the monitor with a clear arrow pointing to the evidence.

“G-I-R-L.”

I shouldn’t be surprised, but I was. The gravity of the situation took its time to sink in. How do I react? What will the future hold with 3 women? My shoulders dropped. I’m completely outnumbered.

An hour later we were at the coffee shop and I was still numb. Then Priscilla said, “What about Kayla?” This awoke me from my daze and I grabbed my phone and fought a ridiculously slow connection to discover the meaning of this name.

KAY-la: Who is like God?

And there it was. Reassurance. The outcomes continue to be out of my hand and the future remains unclear, but we are not God. This frustrates, angers and causes a life-long struggle between what I feel I want and what He knows I need.

Here’s to you Kayla, already teaching Dad lessons.

An ordinary fork in the road.

It wasn’t the first day. It wasn’t during any of the monumental milestones. It wasn’t even during the difficult middle-of-the-night calls for help. It was an ordinary moment. A moment that has since become second nature and routine; one I am sure I’ll repeat a thousand more times. At least.

One evening as I was drawing Camille a bath and I realized, I can get away without giving her one. I’m tired. She is well fed. She took a bath that morning. She is sleepy. More importantly her mom isn’t home to push me to do it. Why don’t I just put her pajamas on and off to sleep she will go. Both of us will be happy to expedite the entire process.

That’s when the feeling hit me. Right there, in the middle of the corridor between the bathroom and her bedroom, I knew. To grab for a word that has slightly lost its punch, I had an epiphany. The feeling that this little soul mattered more than I can describe. I undeniably knew that I’d become annoyed, frustrated, exhausted and angry with this little one over the course of her life, but that these feelings would always be put into their proper perspective because she’s my little girl. Mine.

This week she turns two. Friday can take its time getting here.