Saturday, November 16, 2013

Zephyr. Ollie. Zephyr.

We didn't find out Ollie's sex at our (one and only) ultrasound at 20 weeks and by 40 weeks I was convinced he was a girl.   I was in utter shock when Liza lifted the blanket and announced our baby had a big penis.  In reality, she was looking at his over sized, hormone inflated testicles but still, our girl announced we had a boy.  Because obviously, I gestate long with girls since Liza and our presumed baby girl were both born at 41 weeks and 2 days and Henry was born at 40 weeks and 2 days.  And obviously, my belly had the look of a girl.  And don't forget the woman that witched me and read my palm at the country buffet who also agreed our baby was a girl.

Baby boy was nameless for 48 hours.

During this time:  My body felt like it had been hit by a truck.  My colostrum was transitioning to mature milk in a glorious manner leaving my breasts feeling like bags of wet cement.  The kids were acting crazy.  It was harder than I imagined having a baby boy rather than a baby girl.  We were ready to be home but I was anxious about the 4 hour drive.  Needless to say, things were feeling a bit unsettled.

The baby needed a name.  Everything would feel better if the baby just had a name.

The 2nd night of Ollie's life, I decided his name was either Zephyr or Ollie.  Ollie came out of left field.  I honestly wasn't even thinking about Oliver being a family name.  Ollie just seemed right and I liked it.  Zephyr was my much sought after hippie name for my tie-dyed baby born on a hippie commune.  "Late spring and early summer breezes."

Henry, Liza, Ollie.
Henry, Liza, Zephyr.

Taylor chose Ollie.  Oliver Pace Dearman.  I was confused about why Oliver was my son's name.  I didn't even like the name.  But it was his name.  I couldn't deny it.

But now I get it.

My Aunt Betty died in a horribly tragic way right around Ollie's due date after we been at The Farm for about 2 weeks. We decided not to attend the funeral and I coped with the tragedy by compartmentalizing and focusing on our impending peaceful homebirth.

After we named Ollie, I remembered Betty's dog is named Oliver and I liked that.

Then, just a few weeks ago, my mom told me that Betty named her dog Oliver because she always loved the name Oliver for a baby boy but her husband didnt' like the name for their sons.  So naturally, she named her dog Oliver.

Betty and I were never particularly close.  But I think of her everyday and I absolutely believe she is the reason Ollie is Ollie rather than Zephyr.

And when I am empty nesting and needing a little dog to snug in my lap, I can always name him Zephyr and think of Betty.

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