When, at your 18 week pregnancy check-up, you are told, “I’m so sorry, but there is no heartbeat,” you have to make a lot of decisions that you never knew you would make.
How will you deliver your baby who has died? And when? Will you have an amniocentesis? Do you want an autopsy? Will you want to see her after she is born? Will you hold her? Do you want pictures? What will you name her? Will you name her?
My dad called me in the days after the appointment and before the delivery.
You are still in shock. Grief has not even set in. Real grief takes a long time. What is her name?
We haven’t talked about it.
You have to name her.
My dad knows me and he knows grief. My brother Mike died at 2 months old. Deep down, I knew I wanted to name her but I was scared.
When my husband and I had our first child, our son, we spent nine months mulling over names. We laughed and argued and pondered and teased. His name was finally settled after he was born. With our rainbow*, the name selection was a little more serious but just as thoughtful. We had two names picked before the first trimester was over.
In contrast, Anne’s name was selected on the interstate as we were on our way to the second appointment with the specialist. We had just established that we strongly disagreed on method of delivery. I struggled to broach the subject. The clock was ticking. Decisions had to be made. We had not talked about names at all this pregnancy.
I want to name her.
I don’t.
Silence. Was it worth it? All of this conflict when we really needed each other? In four years of marriage our disagreements had never felt so heavy.
What names have you thought about?
I threw out a couple. He hated them.
What about Anne?
I love Anne. Let’s name her Anne.
Anne is my middle name. Whenever I fill out a form that asks for my middle name now, I think of her. My name tags, drivers license, and lab coat all bear the letter A. For Anne. Anne’s mom. It makes me happy every time.
On the Still Standing Magazine website, there was recently an article talking about the meaning of the author’s daughter’s name. With all of the research that went into the names of my other two children, I never thought to look into the meaning of Anne. I finally did.
Favor. Grace. God has favored me.
That she is and that he has.
This grief journey has involved a lot of darkness and tears but there are little joys and blessings along the way as well. I love Anne.
*Rainbow is a term in the loss community that refers to a child born after a son or daughter who died. Our Rainbow was born healthy and happy in December 2012.
