The Power of a Name

Life was busy, our 2 older boys were chomping at the bit for summer vacation, end of the year parties were taking up a good chunk of my time, and our little girl was FINALLY walking (which of course resulted in her being into EVERYTHING). Between the kids, house, dogs, cat, and husband I was tired all the time. As the next few weeks passed, I mulled, stewed, and lost sleep over the new OB practice, and finally decided that I needed my midwife. So, after A LOT of deliberation, I called and scheduled and appointment to talk to her about a home birth. (yes, I said home birth!) She was so sweet, got in me in right away, was SO understanding about my need to have some control over our birth. It was a Thursday afternoon that I sat in her office balling like a baby about how much I hated the doctor I'd seen, how I'd missed her, and that I wanted her (and no one else) to help us bring our son into the world. She laughed, and cried with me, and then did a quick check on the little guy. She measured, and listened to his heart beat, everything was perfect. We were a tad behind on our monthly prenatal, so she scheduled us to come in the following Tuesday for a full check up. That was fine with me, I could listen to the doppler "chugga-chugga" all day everyday.

I left the office with a sense of relief, and an urgency to find a name for the little guy. We were stuck on a name. I wanted Owen in the WORST way, and Daddy thought Owen was the WORST name ever. He liked Elliot, and I just couldn't wrap my head around it. We made lists, emailed them back and forth, eliminated, revised, and narrowed, and still we could not agree. Finally, on Father's Day after work, in the car, on the way to unplanned dinner out, we agreed on Ethan. YAY...he had a name! I've always been amazed at how much closer I've instantly felt to my babies once they've been named.  It was barely 10 minutes later that I am sure he passed away.

For the most part he was quiet in the womb, he gave a gentle nudge now and again, but at the end of week 17 he was much less active than I remembered my other children being. BUT, again, I was tired, busy, and had 4 other children to care for. As we were seated at the restaurant, I felt a few quick movements, and then what I could only describe as a lurch. It was enough that I stopped talking mid sentence and put my hand to my belly. Then I giggled, and said " I guess he likes soda". After that I felt very little, but I "knew" he was fine, we'd just heard his heart beat on Thursday, and I was NOT in the business of panicking.