I haven't told anyone (minus my counselor and the Faces blog)...not even my husband.
I don't think he understands how much it means to me or why it is such a big deal to me.
And that's okay.
Even though we both grieved and it was his baby, too, she wasn't inside of him.
He didn't have that physical connection to her that I did.
I've been thinking about one specific name for quite a while. It just kept coming up in conversation and in random places (not in a "you should name your baby this" sort of way, but in a "I knew this amazing woman with this name and she did awesome stuff" sort of way).
But I was still hesitant to call my baby by that name, to commit.
Not because I want to use the name for other babies or anything, but because if I committed, it was done...and I was afraid that others would think I was silly for naming a baby I don't even know the gender of...a baby I, sadly, barely got to know.
The other day, when I was working on my story submission for Faces, I mentioned to Brady that it didn't seem right to not have a name to give our angel in title of the story under my picture. He answered simply, just say "Baby Birk."
So I did at first.
But it just didn't seem right.
My baby deserves more than that.
And, I don't want to have the mindset that Baby Birk died...so when, someday, hopefully, I am blessed with another Baby Birk, I won't mind calling him/her that until we know his/her gender and can actually name him/her. I don't want that to be tainted, I guess. I don't want to be unfair to my other babies.
So, finally, I decided to take the leap.
I didn't tell Brady...I think he would think I'm silly.
But I named her Leila.
It means "night" or "dark beauty" in Hebrew, and when I was taking my Hebrew classes, I remember thinking what a beautiful word it was.
It seems so appropriate to name my baby Leila. She began forming inside of my body at night...and she left my body at night. Though she brought darkness and sadness into my life, she also brought great beauty and joy.
So, dear readers, I just wanted to tell someone I thought would understand.
Over a year and a half ago now, I lost my Leila.
She would have turned one at the beginning of this month.
I miss her dearly, but I look forward to seeing her in heaven someday.