I’ve surprised myself with how relaxed I have been throughout […]
I’ve surprised myself with how relaxed I have been throughout the past 29 weeks of my first pregnancy. I kept waiting for this intense motherly protectiveness to rear its ugly head when someone coughs too close to me, or I get caught walking behind someone smoking (although I definitely dodge that). I’m even A-OK with the belly touching, even in the early stages of the first trimester. In reality, there was no belly yet, so strangers were just rubbing me, sometimes too far south … like watch out for that.
Anyway, I finally know what my personal pet peeve of pregnancy is. It may not be a real pet peeve because it’s a very normal thing for other people to do, but it fills me with angst! Now that it’s clear there is a baby in there, I get the third degree pretty much everywhere I go. “Are you pregnant? Do you know what you are having yet?” (Thank God I do! I couldn’t imagine walking around with this bump before even hitting the gender mile marker.) This question is ALWAYS followed by, “Do you have a name picked out? Or are you keeping it a secret?” What is it about this question that makes me want to start walking in the opposite direction? I have found many ways to divert the attention to something else, but why? Why can’t I just say her name, or nicely let the person inquiring know I would rather keep it private? What is my problem?!
For whatever reason, I feel very protective of her name. It’s not that I fear what other people think—she is my child! I’m fully aware it’s very normal for people to want to know the name of your new baby, and I am grateful for their interest. I just have this weird phobia of telling people what her name is. We have known for a while now what we wanted to call her, but it hasn’t gotten any easier to divulge this to everyone else. I can’t keep it hidden forever, so why not share it with my PNMag family?
We found out B was a “she” at 11 weeks. Woo technology! For all the weeks prior to this announcement, everyone seemed to think we were having a boy (except for me and Matt). To appease the masses, we took some time to look at boy names, and I was having the hardest time finding anything I liked. Everything was either too “now,” too “then” or was trying too hard in general. It was important to me to find a name that did not have a strong origin or date association. Having been given the name Lauren, I can usually guess when other Laurens I meet were born- 1988-1990. That’s cool, but I wanted something less obvious for her. Having an affinity for French culture, I started my massive Google search there. Almost immediately, I came across a name I thought was strong, yet beautiful—and in my opinion, unique. Remember, I was searching masculine names at this point, but I immediately knew I wanted to reserve it for our girl. Hopefully she’s OK with this, but she is technically named after a very good-looking French boy.
Her name is Bellamy—Bellamy Woods DeBusschere.
Bellamy means “beautiful friend or companion.” She will absolutely be this very thing to so many people. As the first grandchild and niece on both sides, she is already very desired by her family and close friends. Bellamy, for me, communicates beauty, strength and dignity. It reminds me of a girl who leaves lasting impressions and doesn’t second-guess what she thinks. I see her as a lover and a peacemaker. It’s not too cute or too bizarre. Her nickname is Elle, not Bella or Bell. Sorry, my mother has already coined this name! We cannot wait to see her! She hides her face at every ultrasound. We haven’t seen what she looks like in months! No matter how often she likes to hide from the camera, she is doing great. We are both ready for the last ten weeks of this journey.
From now on, I will divert curious strangers to my blog for her name reveal. (I am not above some shameless panning for readers!) If you know someone who totally sucks and has the name Bellamy, keep it to yourself. I can’t wait to meet my girl and share all of her with the world—not just her beautiful name.