What's in a Name?

On her Five Week Birthday, one thing has become clear: we named her well.  Tempest.  

            A violent storm, tumult, uproar.  

That she is, or can be, even though our sweet, bright-eyed Tess makes frequent appearances.  With a set of lungs typically not seen on a 36 week-er, she defied all conventions right from the start.  She has absolutely no problem vocalizing, that’s for sure.  When she wants something, it’s Tempest in a Teapot mode.  It makes me smile because her cry is hearty and clear.  There is no wailing, no screeching or whimpering.  It’s a full-on HEY YOU GUYS I’M HUNGRY/POOPING/IN NEED OF CUDDLING and she does not desist until her needs are fulfilled.    

Conceiving her – and carrying her for nine months – was my personal tempest.  But she is here now, safe and sound.  When she’s out in public for a medical appointment, I love hearing peoples’ reactions when I tell them her name.  Usually there’s a pause and a smile followed by, “I love it,” “so beautiful,” or “how unique,” “I’ve never heard that before – what is it again?”  To be well named is a blessing.  So is her middle name.  Felicity.

            Great happiness.  Pleasing or well chosen.

She is our pride and joy.  (Sorry Oscar, you are pretty great but we picked you out of a line-up of pups.  You were well chosen, as it happens, but you did not issue from my loins.)  I have always loved the name since my days of playing with my American Girl Doll, the fire-kissed patriot, Felicity Merriman.  While our daughter is decidedly not named after a doll, I smile to think that she will one day inherit this discontinued --excuse me - retired -- treasured bit of my girlhood.  She will be able to play with Felicity just as I did and recognize that same spirit of independence in herself.  

Our happiness after the storm, a “stormy blessing,” for that is how we choose to translate her name, is the perfect distillation of her mother’s favorite play and her father’s profession.  She came in like a roll of thunder and continues to keep us on our toes.  Her actual birthday, now a month behind us, was a tempestuous September day and I will always remember the flinty, swirling gray of the clouds above 287 as we sped toward Morristown and probable delivery.  The leaves were just beginning to turn, despite the 80 degree temps, and the feeling of something portentous hung in the humid air. 
Her name captures the drama of creation and birth.  It is strong, it is melodic, it has meaning, but most of all, it suits her.