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What’s in a name?

Our little Peanut’s birth story will be a little different than Bluebelle or DeanBean’s. Not just because he was a scheduled delivery, or because he’s my final one (God willing!), but because he was by far our most considered.

Peanut’s story begins in April 2016. That month, I went to a retreat called Splendid. It wrecked my heart, began to heal some places I didn’t realize were still broken, and filled my spirit in ways unexplainable. Back then, I was wrestling with the idea of adding to our family. You see, things were good. Our kids were in school and Mother’s Day Out, they were independent and fun, and relatively easy to manage. I’d always wanted three kids, but I wasn’t sure at that point that I wanted to give up my freedoms that I had recently regained.

Also, with every pregnancy I obtain the same fear. Will this child be the one to break me? When I was a child, I was told many times that I was the reason why my mother took medication. I knew she was depressed. I knew she had an addiction.

I just thought it was all my fault.

I was wrestling with this lie during the retreat, and I had just returned home. That Monday morning, I dropped Bluebelle off at school, and my heart ached leaving her again after being away from her for the whole weekend. I said a short prayer to God.

“Thank You, Lord, for her. She is such a blessing.”

I heard back, “Any child I give to you is a blessing.”

It was in that moment I felt peace over the situation, even though I wasn’t sure I still wanted to add to our family. It would be months before I was ready.

Fast forward to January 2017. I had discovered I was pregnant in November, and we were discussing names. Both of the older kids had been named with an A as their first name, and my husband wanted to keep the tradition so Peanut wouldn’t be left out. I’m stubborn, so I was planning to do something non-traditional, although I wanted the middle name to be a family name. My grandmother gave me a list of names she had been compiling and one stood out — Asher. I remembered it from the Bible and looked up its meaning. It means, “Happy, Blessed.”

I remembered that day in April and I knew it had to be his name.

He was to be our blessing.

This was going to serve as a reminder to me in the recent days, and I’ll tell you more very soon. I’m afraid this post is too long as it is!

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  • Jill September 15, 2017, 10:44 pm

    What a special story behind his name. I’ve had similar thoughts/concerns about a third child.