Screw love! NAMING A BABY is the battlefield!

Dear beloved peeps o’ the World Wide Web,

We have a name for our son.

It is….drumroll…..

PINOCCHIO LAZARUS CHOATE!

Kidding.

Sort of.

(Belly shot: Week 7- 150.4 lbs)

No, I really AM kidding. It’s neither Pinocchio nor Lazarus, but he IS named.

Sort of.

I say “Sort of” because his first name is selected and decided on.

It’s a lovely name and one I am sure he will be proud of.

Usually the names of our children are structured the same way. The middle name is something with deep and personal significance while the first name is just something we like the sound of.

If it was a girl it would be simple: Lily.  I’ve had the name picked out since the debut of The Secret Garden on Broadway. Since this will be boy #4, we were short on names.  The only reason we named Little Bug “Matthew” is because neither of us hated it.

I wanted the name “Jack”.  I have always wanted it. I love it.

Jonathan? Not so much. While he didn’t have an alternate suggestion, he also didn’t think that never having a daughter was a good enough reason to just give in to a name he wasn’t fond of and let me to have the boy name I wanted.

The name issue turned into stonewalling, arguments, silent fuming and frustration and anxiety. (Well, all of that was on my part. Jon? Does not get anxious nor fume. He stays annoyingly disengaged from it all. So it was pretty much a one woman huffing and puffing show over here. Yippee!)

He was immovable and I was just pissed and hurt. To him he was being logical and balanced and being reasonable. To me, I’ve been having a really hard time in a lot of areas and it came off like he was just being an emotionless bastard that refused to do one thing to make this process easier on me. (Not a great combo, huh?)

I have to throw in that with the other names it was absolutely a 50/50 process. I am not usually this difficult. Especially about “big things”. It’s not about having my way as much as just wanting something to just…go the way I want it to go in this mess. If that makes sense.

(And yes, I know how unreasonable and unfair it seems I am being. I’m just beyond caring.)

More than my name, I really just wanted some kind of decision. SOMETHING that was settled, in place and SECURE.

I feel like I have no security anywhere lately and it’s horrible. So, I guess I am looking for any shred of it anywhere I can find it.

Jon didn’t want to decide. “We have plenty of time”. Yes, I know. Like we have plenty of time to buy things, plan things, work out insurance, blah, blah,blah. Can something just happen NOW that doesn’t involve being constantly sick, barfing, hospitals and pain? Something tangible to focus on and cling to through the crap?

I longed to have a powerful force that would just move his ass in some direction. You know, like the good ole days of 2002 when the United Nations were threatening to put Saddam Hussein in the corner if they counted and got to three.

Damn. I wish that UN were around to help me out with this whole “Name War” thing.

I can totally see it-

I throw myself on their mercy and plead my case and they would agree  with me!

(Well, except for Turkmenistan. Bastards almost always vote against me. 13 years of neutrality MY ASS.)

The vote carried out, I have all their weight and power behind me and have them send a missive to my stubborn husband on official letter head! Plated in gold! And carried in by doves n’ stuff! Escorted by archers in loincloths and flaming arrows! (Except for that reeeeeeeaaaallllly hairy dude 3rd on the left. Um…yeah. He can skip the loincloth, thanks.)

It would be the most effective demand of all time!

To Whom It May Concern:

You are asked to take immediate action regarding, “Operation NAME YOUR KID, DAMMIT ALL TO HELL!”.

If you do not, we will be forced to send you a very strongly worded letter in which Hans Blix will personally use such terms as “Disgruntled“,”Condemnation“, “Angst“, and the especially harsh, “Epistemologically flawed“.

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

The United Nations.

Wouldn’t that be COOL?

Seriously, WHERE IS THE MIGHTY POWER OF THE UNITED NATIONS WHEN I NEED THEM, DAMMIT!!!!!!!

Oh…yeah. I forgot myself for a minute.

It’s THE UN.

What was I thinking?

Duh.

(I think I probably would have had a more fulfilling fantasy if I had gone with calling on The Super Best Friends to help me out, huh?)

Moving on…

Let’s just say that naming this kid has been a difficult journey.

(Belly shot: Week 17: 153.2 lbs)

This whole pregnancy has been a difficult journey.  This week has especially suckasuckasuckaSUCKED, but I can’t/won’t/don’t want to/am not ready yet to write about it. It’s been bad.

So, I am glad for any thing that falls into the “good” and/or “done” category.

I will also add that even if Jonathan had agreed to let me name him Jack, I would have changed my mind.

I knew without a doubt what my son’s name should be and luckily, Jonathan likes it. (If he had not? It wouldn’t have happened and I am not sure where or what we would have done. Maybe call him ‘Hey, you” for life? Actually, let’s not even go there because Jonathan DOES really like it and like I need one more unpleasant thought in my head, ya know?)

So, he’s named.

Sorta.

We have no middle name.

I felt strongly that his middle name should be one thing and (surprise) Jonathan did not agree. It was a much bigger, deeper issue than his first name. Jon doesn’t have an alternative name and while I don’t want to completely force a name on him, I don’t have another one that I want at all. I have good reasons to want it he has good reasons to not.

So, it’s another stalemate.

At this point, though?

I’m tired.  I’m sick. I am pretty much done with caring and honestly, I just don’t have the ability or desire to keep  going any more. Some moments I can’t remember why I wanted it in the first place, ya know?

But I did.

I really did.

I wanted it, it was important to me and tried my best and fought for it but I think I’m just…done fighting. I hate it and I’m tired. And I don’t even know if it’s worth it anymore, anyway.

I need to think about the other things on my plate, like breathing.

So, we don’t have a middle name and I don’t know if we ever will.  He very well may not HAVE a middle name and I would be ok with that. I don’t win but I don’t lose. Or maybe Jon just slaps one on the birth certificate and I abdicate my role in the process.

Meh.

At this moment, it just really doesn’t matter to me.

Really, I just want to curl up in a ball and sleep. I’d be good with sleeping forever and ever and EVER. Sleeping is groovy. I highly recommend it.

Waking up? Not so much. Highly overrated.

Ok, FINE…I guess you can wake me up when he graduates from college, m’kay?

Kisses n’ stuff!

Loralee

P.S.  We’re naming him, Aaron. If you had been standing inches behind an orchestra with tears streaming down your face while this played like I did? You would ABSOLUTELY know why.

(Belly shot-Week 23: 155.1 lbs.)

P.P.S. Ok, this is just me being picky but damn, the tempo on the above piece needs to be much faster. It was just the only recording that didn’t suck as far as sound quality.

P.P.P.S. It just occurred to me that if you string the first initals of the boys that I will have (still living, granted) you get J-A-C.  So maybe I got my “Jack” after all. ;)

P.P.P.P.S. YES. I REALIZE I HAVE HUMUNGO BOOBS. They are indeed “like WalMart and soon will be taking over the universe” (Some of the emails I am getting are HILARIOUS). They are much more impressive/awesome/freaking frightening and overwhelming in person. (You know, depending on taste and sexual orientation.)  I am just hoping by the time this kid is born I will still be able to see and/or breathe.