Saturday, July 7, 2007

Putsy putsy

After nearly 14 hours of recording unimpressive contractions – the kind that make me stop to take notice without stopping me in my tracks – I’ve stopped logging the times, started believing that this pre-labor stuff may go on for days and days. There’s been about six different evenings over the past couple weeks when I’ve thought, yep, I think we’re cranking up for something now. Maybe this baby and my body are torn between the comfort of the womb and the discomfort of just how tightly packed together we are. Last night the little guy, who I still have trouble envisioning as a full-grown newborn, spent a solid two hours squirming every which way incessantly while I lay awake, paced and wondered.
Maybe he’s waiting to be named. Rob and I just can’t quite name this kid. We settled on William Thomas Addington for our first son months before his birth and I talked to Will in the womb. It was an easy decision – a family name from both sides, my grandfather’s name as the first name, my father’s as the middle. But a classic, and so ordinary, name.
This time I’ve been pushing the name Owen. Rob likes the name but he won’t settle. He’s tempted by names that are more unusual – almost unheard of, in some cases. We have one very traditional William (whose name we’ve learned recently ranked number 1 among baby names in the South) – why not give this second boy a name that is almost unique – a name that exists on websites like but a name that you may not have realized was a name at all. Some Rob suggestions: Onus (a half-joking proposal that nevertheless keeps rearing its anus-like head), Padrig, Alden, Avery. With the exception of the first two names, they’re not all bad. I could perhaps live with Alden if Rob decided he couldn’t live with Owen. But I prefer Owen. And Rob prefers non-commitment. He’ll settle on Owen but each night when my false labor starts to crank up, he’ll propose a new name.
Will has joined the naming game. Among his suggestions: Tigger, E.C., Ally, and several other nearly unpronounceables that most definitely don’t exist in the baby name books and web sites. And plenty of times he says, “I like Owen,” and I want to give him a big squeeze for temporarily taking my side.
For now, I tell this baby in the womb, you are my Owen and I know that if we have some revelation upon seeing your beautiful bright red crinkly newborn flesh that makes us realize you need another name, you will forgive me for giving you a different nickname for the womb. So come on out Owen or Baby X; we’re ready to meet you.

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