A rose by any other name...

Props to everyone who guessed Baby Girl's name is Seven.

But no, it's not.

It's not Apple or Moxie Crimefighter or Zuma or Inspektor Pilot or Sparrow or anything else equally. . . ridiculous.

In fact, let's talk about names.

Although I have lots and lots of concerns about having a girl (I stress a little less every day because to quote the movie, that little doodle can't be undid), the ONE thing that I thought right away was, "Well, at least clothes shopping for her will be more fun."

This was immediately followed by the additonal relief that we wouldn't have to think of a boy's name. Boys' names are hard. Our girl name we had all picked out and ready to go.

I'll announce it eventually, but I'll give you some hints. If you want to guess it, you can send me an email and I'll tell you if you're right. (And no DeNae, the first right answer does NOT win the baby.) Your hints: the name is Biblical, has four letters, and starts with a vowel. Enjoy.

Now, this was the name we came up with before we found out Baby G was of the male persuasion, so we've basically been holding on to it for over two years and we still love it. I think that's a great sign. It's just one HUGE less thing to worry about in a pregnancy during which I am a constant knot of anxiety, convincing myself each day that something new and horribly wrong has occurred to the little jelly bean residing in my womb.

If I had to think of a boy name? Uhhhh . . .

Let me tell you a sad story. For a long time, a boy name would have been no problem. James, my first one, was easy. That's my brother, father, grandfather and his father's name. Duh. I happen to love that name and knew from the time I was a kid that I would name my first son James. Just like I knew my second son would be William (another family name), Will for short. And no, I didn't worry about some vague future husband and his opinions. I can be remarkably bratty persuasive.

But my hopes for a Will were dashed because James got a brother named William from his dad and stepmom before I was even dating anyone. It's not like they knew I wanted the name or that I would have thrown a fit even if they did. Yeah, right. I had no idea if I'd ever even have more kids at that point. The dating pool looked murky with a light layer of scum resting on top.

That was okay, though. My next favorite name was safe: Jacob. Good old Jake.

And then I married a Jacobson. I couldn't convince myself much less my husband that Jacob Jacobson was a good idea. (I even tried it with a Scandinavian "y" sound for the J. Didn't help. Made me giggle, though.)

That's when things got tricky. See, I dated for SIXTEEN years before I got married and I dated A LOT of guys. That's a whole lot of names that were suddenly off-limits. I would not curse a child by naming them Sam or Aaron or any other name I liked if it had been sullied by a--a--a. . .well, a stupidhead of the same name.

Did I mention that was A LOT of names out of the mix?

Oh, and then there was the lovely fact that I taught mniddle school for five years and the handful of names left that I liked had generally been tainted by some middle school knucklehead. Ask a teacher: being in the classroom will ruin most names for you.

And the thing is, I'm not a big fan of trendy names, or unusual names, or made up names. I like traditional names. Unfortunately, that's what the trends are coming back around to, but whatever. That's been my preference for fifteen years and it's not changing. I'm also not a fan of normal names with odd spellings. I think it's mean to do that to a kid. Let them change the spelling later if that's what they want, I guess. And yeah, I realize that offends some of you. Don't be offended. I realize I'm in the minority on MY name preferences and it bothers me NOT AT ALL.

Anyway, had this baby been a boy, I think we finally agreed on Bennett. That's my maiden name. I was still working toward convincing my husband that we'd call the baby Ben, but I was making some progress because I'm bratty persuasive.

It's a moo point, as Joey would say. We've got a girl coming, ready to give her a name we love. And I get to buy lots of pink stuff, so I guess that's all I really need to know before I birth a female, right?

What the...?

I had a funny dream the other night. Funny ha ha and funny weird. I woke up in the morning and told my husband, "I dreamt we had a little girl." He grinned. The next time we get pregnant, he wants a girl. All boys is just fine with me. In the dream, though, I had this girl and while still in the hospital, a group of religious zealots babynapped her and were hiding her from me. From everyone, really. I searched through the hospital frantically. Slowly, on the down low, people would offer me clues as to my baby's whereabouts. Soon, a counter resistance to the zelaots began to grow around me, willing to help me find my kid. Neither side was organized. It was kind of like hide-and-go seek in the hospital, me wandering up and down the corridors.

Finally, one woman said, "I know where your daughter is. But to get her back, you have to know her real name."

I assured her that I did so she lead me down a hallway to a door like all the others. I knocked. Someone answered, barely visible through the door. I explained I was there for my daughter.

"What's her real name, then?'

"Aurora." I answered. Which I guess was the right answer because I got my baby back.

O-kay. I don't even particularly like the name Aurora.

My husband laughed. He thought it was funny that I dreamt of a girl and funnier that I had picked a name so far out of my wheelhouse.

The next morning, my husband wakes up and says, "You're not going to believe this. I had a dream last night that we had a boy."

"Uh-huh. And did you dream of his name."

"Yeah," but he shifted uncomfortably. I waited. "It's stupid," he said. "It even sounded dumb in my dream"

"And the name is...."

Big sigh. "Pope Julius."

What the....? So glad I'm into the more metaphorical dreams coming true.