What’s in a name

We never named our babies before they were born. Some people have the best stories, best strategies for naming their household. I’d love to say we spent this extra time preparing some fantastic plan for it, but the truth is someone very close to us had vast opinions on our proposed names with our first that out of dag gone spite we didn’t discuss it. Ever. And we knew what we were having- no surprises there, but no name chat. It was annoying to talk about, and personal when people asked. Just not our thing. Until Marley. She broke our mold... when we told the kids we were pregnant it was like a naming bonanza at our kitchen island. All boy names. And one stuck and so that was that. Except, at the ultrasound it wasn’t a boy. Now what? We didn’t talk about it for a week or so. I’ve loved the name Marley. Bob Marley’s Three Little Birds plays on a loop in my head. Marley and me- a movie we’ve seen dozens of times and a book that was almost a copy of our Lady Baileys life (our Great Dane). We tried Maggie, Molly, Scarlet, a few others. And then one day while so casual about it, our girl Miss Marley was silently accepted by all of us. Then one late night our kiddos asked what the middle name would be. I said I thought maybe Rose. Their three faces staring back at me held up a finger in disagreement and turned around to confer together. As swift as they turned around they spun again and stared dead back at us. The ring leader says we think it should be Grace. We were confused. See, Mad shares my middle name and Easy E shares Russ’s middle so Soph is out here by herself with Grace. So when they said Grace we thought, but that’s Sophs... to which they replied yes, so she needs someone to share with. Tears! And it was settled. Marley Grace it is.

Fast forward to her departure from the delivery hospital to Children’s hospital and the nurse says “what’s her name? “ I could see the hesitation, feel the pressure. Unsure if giving her a name and losing her would make it all too real. We said nothing. For the next month of her life she was known as Baby Girl. Or BGH for short. The next day she became Marley again.  She was always Marley and it was real.

One hard day coming back from a procedure there was a banner of letters taped to her door spelling out her name. A pastel purple overlapping a faint mint green. It stole the air right out of my lungs. It hangs on her door at home now. She is the “English garden” chosen so long ago....