It's right at that time when you get your first ultrasound. The ultrasound. The one that tells you if you're having a boy or a girl.
That is, if you are so inclined to know.
And I was inclined. I wanted to know. I needed to know. I did not want to be surprised. I wanted to have it all planned out.
Randall and I had already been tossing names around.
Caelan for a boy. That was a name I came across in one of those baby name books and loved instantly. I still do love it. In fact, if I am ever blessed to have another child and I have a boy, he will be Caelan.
Briana or Rhianon were the girl names. Not sure why, only that I liked the way they sounded.
Those were the names we settled on. Before we knew if we were having a boy or girl.
Randall could never remember the girl names and was always saying something completely different. Something completely wrong.
I would get all pissed off and annoyed. And would yell at him.
"This is going to be our potential daughters name and you can not remember what her name will be?? How is that going to work when you are trying to call her to come for dinner? Or when she is in trouble? Or to make sure she is OK on the playground? What will you do? Call her, 'Hey you'???"
He never had a good argument. Only that the names were hard to remember.
So comes the day that we have the ultrasound. Here comes the day that we will know, boy or girl.
I will be happy no matter what the sex of the baby is. Although secretly, I am wishing for a boy.
We get into the little room with the ultrasound machine. Why do the machines always seem so much bigger than the room itself?
I sit down, get comfortable and let the technician put the cold blue jelly on my big pregnant belly.
And a few minutes later we see a baby on the screen.
We see the heart beating.
We see the baby's head.
We see a foot.
And then the best question is asked. "Would you like to know the sex of the baby?"
Randall and I answer together, "Yes! Yes we want to know!"
The tech pokes around a little bit, trying to get the baby in a good position. I see the other foot. A foot so tiny, so perfect.
I can not wait to touch that tiny piece of perfection.
After a couple of minutes, the tech says, "OK! It looks like your baby is a girl!" She shows us the girl parts and then moves on.
In that moment, the baby's head is on the screen. I am looking at it.
That is my daughter. My. Daughter.
Two names pop into my head instantly. They are not the two predetermined names we picked out ahead of time.
They are Kaylee and Kayla. I like both names. Love them. And instantly know that the little girl in my belly will have one of those names.
As we leave the office I tell Randall about the name epiphany that happened as we found out the sex of our baby. I tell him, "I have two names for you to pick from. I like both of them and will be happy with either one. Pick from Kayla or Kaylee."
He looks at me, a smile in his eyes, "I pick Kaylee. She will be Kaylee Nicole. I want her to have your middle name so she always carries a part of you with her."
How sweet is that?
I could not even believe that I had considered the other two names. There is nothing wrong with them. At all. They are fine names. Just not names that are my daughter.
They are not my daughter.
They are not my Kaylee...