A name to every fixed star
I am reduced to tiny acts of motherhood: birthed her, held her, dressed her, burned her.
Named her. I named her.
I rubbed her name into my belly, whispered it to my bedroom ceiling: Baby. Hello baby. I think I know you. I think. I think. I think you might be Iris. Hello my love. Hello. Iris. Iris. Iris. Hello baby Iris.
I whisper it now and tap it out. She is letters next to each other, keys compressed in order.
I R I S
photo by mbecher
In Greek mythology, Iris was the rainbow. She brought water to the clouds and made the sky weep. She was a messenger goddess: tangible divine.
Iris makes your eyes pretty; soul’s window, shining iridescent. She’s purple and gold and upright in florists’ buckets, she’s blousy and overblown in an English country garden.
She’s a naked young woman running into the sea under a slate-grey sky, laughing, laughing as her friends huddle on the cold sand in woolly hats and wellies. She’s an old lady with paper skin and a soft, powdery scent, peering at a vast, textured canvas in the National Gallery. She’s a bookish child with thick glasses and dimples, reading in the warm spot of her mother's bedroom floor.
She’s my dead baby. But she’s more real to some people than my living children. Others forget her for a time. But soon they remember.
When I say her name.
How did you name your baby or babies?
41 Comments
Reader Comments (41)
We named Christian the day that we were told he would not survive. When we were thinking of names I thought of this person that I went to high school with. He was different to other guys. Such a generous, humble person and I loved his values. He was very intelligent and I knew he would go to great places in his lifetime. His name was Christian. He was everything I would ever hope my son would be like. And so our baby was given a name that he would never physically live up to.
I have a meaning and story behind every one of my childrens names and they all fit them perfectly.
Thank you for writing this unique post Jess. I really loved it.
Blessings x
Teanne was always going to be my first daughter's name, I just never imagined that it would never be called to get her in for dinner, be filled in on pre-school forms or have to be compared to other surnames when the time came to get married.
Teanne was born silent at 20 weeks.... I now have her perfect name tattooed on my wrist and I get to say her name every time someone asks about it.
Kylie
Tex... such a perfect name for our first child. As soon as we knew we were having a boy we wanted a short, strong name, easy to spell, no confusion on how to say it, and never wussy. I had been listening to Tex Perkins in my car for months, along with the baby in my belly. I suggested the name to Ash and we just agreed, and knew it was perfect.
We found out an hour before I was going into my c-section that our longed for little boy had no heartbeat. Devasted we wondered whether to choose a different name, and looking back I don't know why.
When we met our beautiful little Tex he was so perfect and his name suited him so much. We chose a Tex Perkins song 'So much Older' to play at his memorial.
We often chat about our dreams of Tex, and as he was a big boy, and the longest the midwives had seen (57cm!) I imagine Tex William playing AFL, the girls chasing him, him flirting but with respect, creating with his hands & mind and loving music and travel with me, fishing & shooting with dad, being idolised by his mum and dad, and maybe even brothers and sisters.
Thankyou for the opportunity to share Tex's name with you xx
When pregnant with her, I knew if she was a girl she'd be Lily Joy. Always. Lily I always loved, Joy is mum's middle name. So that was that, sorted. Then she died inside of me four days past my due date, and I sat dumbfounded in the "dead baby room" at the hospital and wondered what on earth I should call the baby (still not knowing the sex yet, while her dead body floated at the bottom of my no good uterus).
Everyone around me said to use the name I was always going to use, but I wasn't sure if I could. In that moment, I think I was a massive arsehole. I think I thought I could have another baby, re-use the name, put this awful mess behind me. How wrong, stupid and naive was I?
The next day, she was born. A girl!, everyone exclaimed! And what would we call her? I thought back to that day before, to the stupid dead baby room, and remembered the print that was hanging on the wall. It said Hope. It had angels around it. I said Hope, her name will be Hope. Hope Angel. So that was that. We sent out messages, had cards printed and had the word, her name, plastered all over our limbs and our lives.
Everyone said it was beautiful, every said it was perfect. And sometimes I think it is. But mostly I think I made a horrible mistake. I always wanted a Lily, and even though I have since been lucky enough to have another girl, there was not a chance in hell I could use that name (though I did use it for a middle name).
I guess when my baby died, the name Lily Joy died as well. So Hope did fit. Though we had lost our Hope, hope was all we had left. I think it is the middle name, Angel, I feel most uneasy about, as I certainly don't think she is one. I think many probably see her name on my blog, or in my blogger profile, and get turned off, thinking I might be the sort of person who talks about angel wings, unicorns, fairy dust and dead babies being in a "better place". But that's just not me. And hey, if that's your thing and that gets you through, well that's great. But she's dead, and I don't think she's in a better place, and I don't think she's an angel. But that just happens to be part of her name, and it is what it is.
So yeah, I have a lot to say on this and very mixed feelings. And this is an essay.
I LOVE the name Iris. In fact I love all names floral. I think her name is perfect. She is perfect. You are lovely and I wish she was here.
xo
When I was taken to the O.R for an emergency c-section I was so scared not for me but for my Peanut aka Leo Alonzo. When I woke up I ask how my baby was doing , the nurse said "doctor will be in to see you." . Then I knew my Leo Alonzo had not made it. They told me that when they took him out he didn't had a heart beat. They try for 5 min. to resuscitate him.
Leo Alonzo was my first baby. I was ask if I wanted to hold him. I said " yes" . My first words to him Were " mamma loves you Leo". Leo was and is the most beautiful baby I have ever held in my arms. Leo Alonzo fit perfectly because he did had the heart of a lion and a fighter.
We hadn't yet started seriously talking names but I couldn't rest until they had names. Having only "Baby Girl L" and "Baby Boy L" on their blessing certificate was unbearable. We scoured a big fat baby names book for days, searching for names with meanings that resonated for us, and that started with the letter that defined them in utero - A for our daughter, B for our son. We named our son Bennett, "little blessed one", and our daughter Aliya, "to ascend". We gave them our first names as middle names, since we're both named after family members (his dad and my grandma).
One day I read the lists to my husband and he would say whether the names could stay on the list or were an absolute no. Many of my favorites bit the dust that day, but Grace he liked. He also loved the nickname Ellie, since my middle name is Ellen that was all of a sudden in the running. Then what about Grace Ellen? He said yes that's it. I wanted to wait on my final decision until we met her, but he started telling people her name. I started calling her Grace. It fit, it felt good. I have a professional reputation based on my maiden name and so I never took my husband's last name, our girl would have his name, so I loved that we would have the same middle name. I loved the name Grace. All three of her names have 5 letters, I loved the symmetry. Her initials would be GEM, and that was what she was our gem, our precious jewel.
I was so glad that we had named her. When we went to the hospital that horrible night we found out that she had died, I am so glad that she had a name that we put so much thought into. A name that she heard us call her.
Now I see her name everywhere and it helps me feel connected to her.
By the time he was stillborn, we still hadn't decided on a name and TheDad blamed me for our son's death - (after all, he died because I rejected his name, right?).
I gave in and we named him after his wish - but it never felt right to use it in daily conversation. No wonder hardly anyone ever speaks of him, they have never heard me say his real name. Only since I started blogging and decided on using his 2nd name for that I regularly speak his name out loud: SKY.
There are lots of Iris' where I live so I actually think of your little girl quite often... I will certainly never forget her - name or not. xo
we named our daughter coral, because we both loved the coral reefs we went to together. my sister suggested the name at some point in the pregnancy, and it sounded so lovely. when she was born and we found out the baby was a girl (we waited for the surprise), we got a good look at her, and when it came time to choose a name, we both agreed on coral. her middle name, rose, was my paternal grandmother's middle name. we had a list of possibilities, and coral was the name that suited her best. naming her was such an honor, something that made me really feel like a parent.
our son is named after both of his grandfather's. my husband's paternal grandfather- anton, and my mother's father, harold. we found out the baby was a boy early in that pregnancy, and gave him his name right away. with our daughter, we always called the baby 'the baby'. we wanted our next baby to have their name right away. it was very hard on my husband's dad to lose this familial namesake as an infant... hard to see his name on the gravestone, something so connected to his family's history.
She was born at 26 weeks sleeping. She was the little girl I have dreamed about since I was little. She was so anticipated that it broke so many hearts around us. I am very proud to be the mother of an angel. I try to say her name as often as I can. It puts my soul at ease.
What a beautiful name for your daughter. She lives on forever in the flowers and rainbows.
And like others said, I always think of Iris when I see them. And I see them often, all around me. Love you, Jess.
I doubted using it, too because I thought, in my fucked-up, insane with grief decisions that I was wasting it. WASTING it! I'm always relieved to see I am not alone. I stared and stared, and stared...there was NO other name.
I've only come across it once in another country when looking for a house that belonged to my grandfather's family; not long after delivering her. I fled the US solo, leaving the now ex-husband behind for "introspective, alone time." Let's just say the wind was knocked out of me and I felt dizzy, faint. The woman was very, very old and very, very kind as I explained what I was looking for as I walked around this small, little village at the base of the Carpathian mountains. When she introduced herself , I broke down and in my first tongue with sweat beading on my forehead, snot flying from my nostrils beneath very heavy, winter clothes, I tried my best to tell her my story. She took me in and shared her afternoon with me.
I think of your Iris a lot, epsecially as it is my own Hebrew name - given to me as I was named after my great-grandmother, Ilsa. It is also, one of my favorite flowers.
Sometimes I think her name is just too beautiful, and I feel like she's a character, a mythical girl that I imagined.
Iris is beautiful name, I think of her, and you often. x
His first name, Theodore, came later. Such a weighty name, but we loved the meaning, which reflected the meaning of his father's name. We loved the nickname Teddy, which conjured up a Salinger story and character. We loved the way it worked with the rest of his initials. Our little TIN man.
When things began to look grim, when we knew he might not be able to breathe, when we knew we might not be able to keep him after he was born, we had a couple of tentative, "should we still use this name?" talks. But we had to. Even though we didn't want to announce it until we met him, it was his name.
And I just realized that the syllables in his name and those in his sister's name match perfectly, even the stressed syllables. We didn't plan that, but I think it's rather wonderful.
I love your Iris's name. I love how you write about it. I love that it's hers.
Too bad 'Miracle' doesn't work as a name, it's too hippy, and it doesn't sound like a name. Baby is our Miracle after 3.5 years of trying to get pregnant (with a very small chance of actually getting pregnant). What about M-i-r-a? I looked up the word Mira in my Italian dictionary, and again she kicked! Both times I looked it up, months apart, she kicked.
We had other names on the list. Boys and girls. My husband didn't want her name to be such a common word in Spanish...so Mira was off his list. What about the Gaelic spelling, Meara?
When my husband saw her profile on the ultrasound (still not knowing for a fact she was a girl) he said that if baby was a girl her middle name would be Joy. Joy was a name we had come up with in honor of my maternal grandmother whose name was Joyce. My grandmother had died 2 weeks before Mira existed, so we joked that she had pulled some strings for us and that's how Baby happened.
When SHE arrived I knew she wasn't coming back, but they tried to resuscitate her. While they were doing so my husband's smile turned to horror. Then he smiled again as he asked me if I knew what we had had. A dead baby? A girl. We had a girl. They asked us her name. Her name? We wanted to meet her first, we didn't have technology tell us her gender. We haven't named her. They worked for 22 minutes to try and bring her back while we tried to name her and fight shock simultaneously.
I explained to everyone in the room it is 'Mira' for Miracle, 'Joy' for Joyce. If she would have to write and spell her own name we would spell it M-e-a-r-a, but since she won't be doing that we will keep the spelling M-i-r-a. Now please let me hold Baby while the low heart rate you did get stops. Let me hold my Miracle while she dies.
But really, she is Baby, gender-less, Baby. My little love. My dead Miracle.
I was worried, because of my age. First I had been worried I would miscarry. I also knew her risk of health problems was higher because of my age. I thought it possible that she could be born with Down syndrome, and prayed that she would still be in good health, and happy, no matter what life handed her. So when I went through the list of African "A" names and saw "Adia", meaning "gift" in Hausa, something leaped inside me and I knew that was it, that was her name. Her name. Because no matter what, she was a gift.
Rose was for my mother-in-law's rose garden, and because they are so beautiful. Her big sister chose Wangari for her middle name, because she loves Wangari Maathai (who incidentally died just two days after AdiaRose). I love that she has a weighty name. There is a lot in that name, for one so tiny and still. It was one of the few things we could do for her.
We mostly call her Baby Pumpkin, or Pumpkin, though, because that was her name before we knew if she was a boy or a girl. Our little Baby Pumpkin. AdiaRose is really a name one would grow into, with time.
I just love your post, Jess. I just love it. And the name Iris is a beautiful name.
We have four little ones in heaven. Our first we named Bella because, in all, she and her small time in my body was beautiful. Our second Henry, after a grandfather, it seemed all too classic and perfect for him. Our third Alex, because we didn't know if he or she was a boy or girl and it's a name we both love for either sex. And our last William, we had, in a sense, lingered on this name for so long and so dreamed of calling it out across our yard to a crazy, playful little boy, instead one day I'll call for him in Heaven.
My daughter Ruby Jayne was born a year later, she was named Ruby after Kenny Rogers, "Ruby dont take your love to town" as I thought she would grow to be a bright gem, a pretty ruby to hold and love and cherish.. she is my light in the darkness. Jayne is a family name, my sister in law who passed was Jayne and my cousin Lily who was my best mate was Amanda Jane (Lily is the nickname)
When my third baby was born premature at 26 + 2 weeks I had only just decided on his name the week before. It was to be Nate Jackson Angus. Nate meaning Gift from God, Jackson as a tribute to his brother Jack and Angus my mothers maiden name, a name that Jack also shared.. when Nate passed away at 3 months old I was still so thankful that I named him Gift from God, he certainly was a precious gift..
So Jack, Ruby and Nate.. all 4 letters, one syllable, unintentional but that is the way that it worked out.. If I ever fall pregnant again by some miracle, I know in my heart it will be a baby girl and she will be named Hope, as I live in hope of holding another baby safe in my arms..
Thank you for letting me share..
After 3 sons, we were amazed to find out she was a girl. We wanted a name that was very feminine. We had a short list but Eva was always my favourite. My husband liked Ruby best, after a friend of ours, and she was our little Ruby after 3 boys. I liked the jewel name too. So we chose both Eva Ruby and Christine which is a family middle name for girls in my family. If we ever have the chance at another girl she will also have Christine or Christina in her name,but I digress.
When I was in labour with Eva I pushed and screamed and screamed her name. When we got a long look at her after birth she was only an Eva. It kind of cuts me up that we named a little girl 'Breath of Life' when that little one was taken from us so early. My husband had a vasectomy when Eva was a healthy 4 month old little girl. We were done with having more children. Anyway, jump ahead to dead baby and then to a reversal a few months after that and I thought maybe her name would be fulfilled in siblings that would never have had the 'breath of life' if it weren't for her life and death. Also, Eva is in Heaven and we believe that she is living life abundantly there. Not with us but still alive.
I wanted an international name, one that could easily be pronounced both in English and my native Bulgarian. There are a thousand girl's names that fit the bill, and roughly seven boy's names. I presented my husband with the list and he picked Stefan. I was leaning towards another name but was willing to negotiate - I would go with my husband's pick if he agreed that we find out the sex of the baby (he wanted to keep it a surprise). So at 17 weeks, we learned that our champ swimmer was a boy. And his name would be Stefan. We kept his name our little secret throughout the pregnancy. We didn't want any input, especially from one particular, very opinionated grandmother to be... I wish we had shared his name sooner. I feel that knowing his name made him so much more real during our brief time together. I regret not shouting his name from the rooftops when it would have made people eagerly smile with anticipation....
James is my father-in-law's name, as well as my brother in law's middle name. And it went well with Stefan. I also (secretly) thought that if people mispronounced his first name after all (turns out they do, it's STE-fan, not ste-FAAN), he could always fall back on the classic simple Jim.
Iris is a georgeous name. Thank you for the beautiful post, Jess. I've reallly enjoyed reading everyone's responses.
In the end, my husband agreed that Isaac was his name, but we have only told a few people. No one asked even if it was a boy or a girl, so it feels odd to volunteer his name. When I hear the name out in public, it makes my heart skip a beat.
The odd thing is that Isaac means something like "he laughs" or "laughter" because of the reaction of his father when he learned he was having a son. It seems like the completely wrong name for a dead baby, though it goes so beautifully with his siblings' names.
He was to be Henrik Gerald.
Henrik because we do Scandinavian names and also after my husbands Grandpa Hank (Henry). Gerald was to honor his other Grandpa, known to everyone as Jerry.
We told his parents of our plan, and they looked suprised and said, who is Gerald? Hans said, "Uh, that's Grandpa!", to which they replied, "Nooo, his name is Ole, he just had everyone call him Jerry". I think my husband was two when Jerry/Ole died, and he never saw his formal name in print? We all had a good laugh.
So now he was to be Henrik Ole.
I'm sure you all know, about an hour after your dead baby comes out of you they start giving you all this freaking paperwork to fill out. Do you want an autopsy? Sign here. Do you want this certificate? Fill this out. Do you want his (still)birth recorded? Fill this out. We couldn't see through our tears, but we had a pile of papers to sort though. Somehow in all that we spelled his name wrong. WE SPELLED HIS NAME WRONG.
So he is Henrick Ole, with an extra C, which is his little joke on us.
But 6 years later we were married and pregant and still agreed if we had a daughter she would be Matilda. Matthew for a boy as they seemed to 'fit' together and we had got married just a few months before in St Matthew's church. So that was the way it was to be.
21 weeks into the pregnancy we found out our baby would die, and asked to know the sex of the baby so we could name it at once. So Matilda she was.
I didn't discover until much later that Matilda means 'strength in battle'. She gave us 3 more weeks of real strength in the battle for life, which she ultimatly lost, but she did have great strength and continues to give me strength as I battle on through the loss of her. Recently I discovered that St Matilda is the patron saint of lost children. Not sure if it's lost as in dead, or just missing. But either way - her name was more perfect than I ever realised.
Matilda. I love you my beautiful girl. xxx
When Freddie was born and rushed to scbu, it didn't seem that important. I called him William in my head for a little while. The scbu nurses like babies to have a name though and encouraged us to find him one. We stood over him, trying out the list of names and when we said Freddie, he seemed to almost nod, a little yes shudder. So that is what we called him.
It's odd that during the months of lists my dh's reason, only reason to not choose Freddie was that it sounded like the name of a little boy but not a man. Huh.
I think we both knew he wasn't coming home, even though the omens were good for a while.
He was Freddie on his birth certificate. If he lived he would have been longed to Frederick James George with the middle names after two relations. Our subsequent child does have those middle names, as much a nod to Freddie as to the relations. I always quite like that Fred is George's (eventually dead) twin in Harry potter. We nearly called Benedict Harry. It's a good job we didn't as he has a lightning birthmark on his forehead. That would have taken it all too far.
Now it seems rather strange to have called him Freddie, as our girls have less common names than that. It was always his name I think, and we didn't reuse any of his list names for Ben. They are all his, his unofficial middle names I think. But if he had lived and we had had Ben anyway, I think Ben might have been called one of those names.
It's such a complicated thing. I mind about names. And I often wonder how I feel if one of my girls wants to use Freddie for one of their children.
When I think back to those scbu days though, it feels like one of our few connected moments. Freddie did choose his name somehow. He knew it was for him.
Andrés means "manly." We'd chosen it a few weeks before and, in a way, it was a ridiculous name. But I just loved the way it sounded. The way it rolled off my husband's tongue in perfect Spanish: Andrés, Andrés, Andrés. A name meant to remind me he wouldn't always be my little boy.
He was perfect at 38 1/2 weeks. Perfect, and gone. We chose Teo for his middle name as I held him in my arms. "Gift from God." We were thankful and peaceful in that moment. Grateful that we'd had such joy in the 9 1/2 months we'd waited for him. Hopeful that we might live again someday, on the other side of this F-ing nightmare.
"Manly gift from God?!" I said to my husband after they'd taken my son to the morgue. "Do you think it will go to his head?"
"No, honey. He was a sweet little boy."
Yes, he was. He really was.
V
xxx
Iris's name is so beautiful. And I can see her possibilities, refracted, through your descriptions. I wish that she could have been all of those women that you write of, in the sea, at the National Gallery, on your bedroom floor. And she is the first of your three children that I think of, when I think of you.
Georgina's name was fixed nearly ten years before she was born. In a conversation between two giddy teenagers and the only name we could agree upon. And there she was. Our Georgina. Our Georgie Girl. Like The Seeker's song. Sometimes I'm glad she had all that prior 'existence' as her life was destined to be a short one. We gave her THE name because . . .there was no other one. We knew she was very ill and, in my stupid magical thinking way, I thought it would ensure her survival.
Jane for my Ouma and my middle name as well. Georgina Jane. And, for the reasons that Cava has described so well, I often wish that had never shared it. Because it might not be an unusual name but it is hers and sometimes I feel I've said too much.
Her sister's name was chosen because it 'went with' Georgina. But I can't regret that. It is a beautiful name. Jessica.
And her brother's middle is George, for the big sister that he will never meet. I also think fondly of several other little boys called George when I call it. I've never thought about the Harry Potter connection Merry.
Sally - Hope Angel's name is beautiful and perfect and it pained me to read your comment. My dear, you are so far from being the things you accuse yourself of. Truly. Your daughter has always been a complete person to me, not an object, not anything 'less.' I don't think you were wrong, stupid or naive. Who could prepare for this situation? We all just do the very best we can and you chose her name with love.
And Scotia - I know he was. I'm just certain that he really was a sweet little boy. Your Andrés Teo.
I love names too and like Grace's Mum have maintained a long list of favourites, mainly girls, since teenagehood. There is something beautiful about giving a name to a child, such an important act as a parent. Most of my favourite names are of the Irish (Gaelic) variety, the ones that sound nothing like they are spelt - Caoimhe, Saoirse, Aine. My husband did not want our child to struggle to spell their own name so they were all thrown out.
Amazingly, had Darcy been a girl, her name was to be Iris Angeline. Iris is just so beautiful, Jess. Iris was my paternal grandmother's name, who I lost when I was 7 and knew so little of her. I guess it was my way of saying I loved and remembered her. Angeline is my husband's beloved maternal grandmother and I could not think of having a daughter without including her. The names just went so well together, there was nothing else.
And as it turned out, our little one was a boy. We had about 2 hours in between learning this and learning of his condition. My husband chose his first name, Darcy, after his great uncle who lost his life at Kokoda in WW2. His second name, Christopher, is after my grandfather who also served his country in the same war. We felt he deserved a good strong family name, and giving him a name from each side made him an important part of the family.
I don't think there is anything wrong with your regrets Sally. I sometimes feel that the "imagined" Darcy is lost to me too. Never will I call his name to come to dinner, write his name on his lunchbox or his school clothes. Horribly, that makes me think I've wasted it to. But I also think that is a great tribute - giving up the privilege of the presence of that name to your baby, it's such a small thing but in the end we didn't have the opportunity to give them much.
2 years on I remain childless despite baby making efforts that could qualify for the Olympics. I often think of my long list of useless baby names. Iris, Rose, Susannah, Atticus, all sitting on a shelf with their brother's ashes, wondering if they will ever hear them spoken. I hope with all my heart that they will.
Lovely post Jess and thank you for the opportunity to share the story of Darcy's name. I am so glad you chose Iris, it's just perfect.
We named our little girl Margaret Joy.
We hadn't decided on a name before we lost her at almost 28 weeks. Talking about names was one of my favorite things to do from the moment I got pregnant. I drove my husband crazy, I was so obsessed. I would make him pause TV shows when there was a name that I liked, to discuss whether it would be a good name for our baby.
There's a part of me that's still mad that we had to name her in the fog of grief. But we chose Margaret, my grandmother's name, although most of the time when I think her of I think of her as Maggie.
And Joy. Joy's the middle name my mother gave me. It's the name I always wanted to give my little girl. I almost didn't, almost held it back, feeling that it was the name that I wanted for a living child. Then I felt horrible for thinking that, for even considering not giving her the name that I loved. So Joy it was. Giving her Joy as her middle name makes me feel connected to her. And I try to use it to remind me that the 27 weeks we had her were the happiest of my life. It's hard to feel joy now, only 3 months out from losing her. But she made us so, very happy, she was so very loved, and I'm glad that her name reflects that.
His name suits him so much, even though he isn't with us.
With Zephyr, a friend told us that she had a friend named Zephyr growing up and he was a really cool guy. We loved it instantly! Rigel, his middle name is after my grandma Ruth and is also the brightest star in Orion. That's our tribute to Silas without really naming after him. My niece Noa Seda is named after Silas so we didn't have to do that.
I love all the flower names too- Lily, Violet and of course Iris. So beautiful.
we didn't know the sex of our baby when we found out at 37 weeks that there was no heartbeat. I asked the doctor to tell me then but he said he couldn't tell from the scan. My husband & I went home that night to get ourselves organised for the 'birth day' in the morning. We discussed whether we wanted to use the names we had picked out and were both in two minds about it. His suggestion was using our own names but even in my shocked state I knew that would be wrong and a little weird. It was my father-in-law that said we should use the names we had planned and I'm grateful we did.
Neve was a name that I always loved but I loved the Irish spelling Niamh. we thought we'd use the easier spelling of Neve so that she wouldn't have to always spell it out for people or have people call her Nymph or something. I wish we had used the Irish version as those problems are irrelevant now.
Rose is after my maternal grandma and my mum who is Rosemary. I wish I had used Rose for my second daughters middle name as a connection to her sister.
It's nice to be able to share her name, thank you
I'm still a little pissed that he died because that name was so special and important to us.
Vivienne was an act of hope. The root is Latin and means life. All I could do was hope that it would be true and not a sick joke, naming the dead baby with a name that means life at the core of it. I think we got so lucky, because she is definitely, really, truly, wonderfully alive.