{ Baby Dear }

Dear Miss Peanut,

It was sometime in March when a friend told me about a dream where she felt God revealed to her the name and gender of her first child {she's getting married later this year}. Your daddy and I have talked about baby names at least since we got married. At that time, in March, we had known you are a girl for over a month, and still we couldn't decide between two or three front-runners.

I thought, "Huh. Wouldn't that be convenient--if God told Mike in a vision what Peanut's name should be. After all, He already knows her by name!"

I spent the next few days doing something I hadn't done much before: praying earnestly about your name. We had discussed names a lot, but we hadn't spent much time praying about them {at least I hadn't}. Almost immediately, the Lord impressed on my spirit that I should let your daddy pick your name. I prayed about it for a few more days, then I thought about it, then I prayed some more...all without telling him what I was doing. I was a little scared. There are a few names that we both really like and kept coming back to, but part of me was afraid that if I told him he could name you, carte blanche, you'd end up with a name like Prunella or Oona Moona. Not because I think your father has horrible taste in names--he doesn't--or because I thought he was out to ruin your life--he isn't--or because I thought he'd be ornery and choose a name I hate--I knew he wouldn't. I'm just kind of a control freak.

Finally I told your daddy that I was putting the decision of what to name you entirely in his hands. At first, he thought I was joking. I convinced him I was serious, and then...I did nothing. For what seemed like a loooooooong time but what was in reality about a month. No nagging. No suggesting. No "hurry up and name her!"

And then, on the last Sunday in April, we were sitting in the atrium at church during the second service, and I asked him if he'd decided what to name you.

He said, "I'm 90% sure."
I said, "Like, we-can-tell-people-90%, or you-aren't-sure-yet-90%?"
He said, "Like we-can-tell-people-90%."
Or something like that...I don't remember exactly, I have pregnancy brain!

Elaina Rae.

That's you!!

Elaina is a name I've liked for ages; it's one we've both been fond of and talked about for years. It means light, torch, or bright. Ray was my grandpa's name, my dad's dad, and it means wise protection. We really like how the two sound together--and oh, the nicknames! Lainie Rae, Ellie Rae...I just want to eat you up!

After so many months of calling you Peanut, it feels weird to refer to you as Elaina or Lainie. Your daddy still calls you Peanut most of the time. We'll adjust, I'm sure!

And now, with what's unfolded over the last few days, I'm really glad that we have a name for you. Last week, we found out that there is a mass in your chest and the doctors aren't sure what it is. Absolutely everything else about you--every single thing--looks perfectly normal, right down to your swallowing and your frequent practice breathing. We are praying for you, Lainie Rae, and so are lots of other people: That this is nothing serious, just a harmless little anomaly that doesn't impact you negatively at all, or that Jesus takes it away entirely before you're born. Tomorrow we get to take another peek at you and hopefully figure out what exactly this mass is.

So you just keep growing away in there, take lots of naps, and maybe tomorrow morning you can turn belly-side-up so we can see your chest a little better.

We love you, Elaina Rae Peanut!

 

For you formed my inward parts;
you knitted me together in my mother's womb.
I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
  Wonderful are your works;
my soul knows it very well.
My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
in your book were written, every one of them,
the days that were formed for me,
when as yet there was none of them.

~ Psalm 139:13-16