The Big Reveal

When I found out that our newest addition would be a baby girl, I panicked for a few different reasons. One, I am so used to boy clothes and boy colors that I wasn’t sure I’d be able to find the correct side of the store when shopping for her. Two, I am no fashionista, by any means, so I felt certain the poor child would not meet the girly standards of her peers. Third, I don’t do accessories. I mean, I wear the exact same jewelry every day, although I have a box full of coordinating pieces (I think I was better at this, understandably, when I was in the working world). Finally, what was I going to name her? I had three or four boy names I really liked, but a girl’s name hadn’t crossed my mind.

In my defense, I have said for years that I would name my first daughter Ella Joy. Ella would be in honor of my grandmother and Joy would be a tribute to my best friend. In recent years, however, the name “Ella” has skyrocketed in popularity so much so that I’ve been hesitant to use it. After all, I was Jennifer when everyone in America was Jennifer. I never could find a pencil with my name on it…

So, when that ultrasound technician determined that this sweet baby would be a girl, I immediately had the urge to name her, to bond with her personally, but I was completely clueless as to what her name would be. So began the search.

With Tyler, Danny and I found his name while flipping through an old yearbook. I loved that it was a classic name but not too popular. I immediately had that “you’re the one” feeling and began referring to the baby boy in my belly as Tyler. As for his middle name, Danny picked that out weeks later, and there’s no way I could have done a better job. Reed was the exact perfect fit and had a nice, familial story to go with it. Danny wouldn’t allow me to reveal Ty’s name too soon, but Tyler was Tyler for a long time before anyone else knew.

Let’s return again to ultrasound day for baby girl Watson. I can’t describe in words for you the overwhelming desire I felt to name her as soon as possible. Now that I knew that she was a she, I wanted to talk to her, to sing to her, to pray for her, to talk about her…by name. A name was all that was on my mind.

Since the yearbook had worked before, I thought we’d try that again. But, I had to wait for Danny to come home to begin that process. In the meantime, I decided to do some internet research on my own. I was totally disappointed.

All the girl names seemed so used, so boring, so common. I wanted something fresh—not too popular, not too weird. And, I wanted that “you’re the one” feeling again. Otherwise, I’d feel as if I were settling.
After many searches, many attempts, and many breaks to do other things (you know, to clear my obsessive mind), I found it. The perfect name.

It was on the list of the top 500 names, somewhere in the 300s. It’s a name I never would have thought of. But, when I saw it on that screen and said it out loud for my heart to hear, I just knew it was the one.

Next task: convince Danny Watson.

If you know anything about my husband, you know that he is a researcher and a studier by nature. He is meticulous with details. He is organized beyond belief. All of these are excellent qualities until you’re his wife and you desperately want to name the girl child in your womb because that’s when he says things like, “I need to do some more research.” Or, “I haven’t even considered the meaning of that name.” Or, “I need to make a list of options first and then narrow the field.”

Ugh.

In order to boost his researching capabilities, I made a special trip to Borders bookstore and bought two baby naming books. Mind you, we didn’t even do this with our first child. Faced with the daunting array of name books before me, I set out to look up my chosen name in every one of them and bought the two that best described my pick. Hey, two can tango here, right?

True to his word, Danny highlighted names and made an exhaustive list that even included “Pilar” as a choice. Really? That’s my husband for you.

Over the course of the next few days, my chosen name was officially selected as the baby’s first name. Now, we had to set about the task of the middle name. That job was assigned to Danny as the Master Middle Namer.

Again, we had a list. Again, we weren’t in love with any of them. Meanwhile, I began praying for my baby girl by name. First name, at least.

And, when I would have least expected it, on a trip to The Alamo in downtown San Antonio, Texas, a place I’d been a hundred times before and have been bored to tears on every visit (I’m not a historian, folks), we found her middle name. The experience of it brought tears to my eyes. Honestly, I felt like God had orchestrated the entire scene, the entire moment, to hand pick a name for our daughter. His daughter.

Her name will be Lydia Rose Watson.

We’ll affectionately call her Lydie, but Danny reserves the right to use her full name when she’s in trouble.

See what I mean about Lydia? It’s not a name I would have come up with on my own. It’s not too popular but not too unusual; not too grown up and not too juvenile. It’s perfect for my little girl.

It’s also a great name because it’s biblical. You can meet Lydia in Acts 16:13-15. She was a great supporter of Paul, who is my favorite person in the Bible (well, other than God and Jesus, of course), and she is described as “a worshiper of God.” That’s what I want for my Lydie. I want her to love God and be a woman after His heart.

Now, Rose, as I mentioned, came to us by complete surprise. Ms. Bobbi and Mr. Fred wanted to visit The Alamo one more time while they were here since we’ll be moving this summer and they might not get back to see it again. We happily obliged. I didn’t so much want to see The Alamo again, but I welcomed a day of walking in the sunshine with Tyler. Little did I know…

As we were leaving the grounds, Ms. Bobbi asked us if we’d seen the roses blooming on the property. She said they were the prettiest yellow roses she’d ever seen, and she told us that she’d snapped a picture of them so she could remember them.

Danny Watson, my super-researcher, interrupted the conversation by saying aloud, “Lydia Rose. Lydia Rose Watson.”

That was it for me. Done deal.

As we talked more about it, we discovered some uncanny things about Lydie’s name that we didn’t purposefully design, but that seemed divinely inspired. Consider this:

· Tyler and Lydia are both five letter names.
· Tyler and Lydia both have Ys in the second position.
· Tyler Reed and Lydia Rose both share four letter middle names that begin with Rs.

Interesting, huh?

Then, we started thinking about the significance of roses. Papa Joe has a miniature rose bush in his front yard that blooms the prettiest orange rose blooms every year. While we were dating, Danny often picked those roses for me, and I always treasured every one. In fact, I still look at that bush whenever we are in the Watson’s yard, and I silently reminisce about the big role those little roses played in my relationship with Danny.

Additionally, the yellow rose is the official flower of Texas, the state in which Lydie will be born--the same flower being discussed that day at The Alamo. And, get this: I carried yellow roses in my bouquet at our wedding (in fact, our colors were purple and yellow…purple is associated with Lydia’s trade in the Bible…she was “a dealer in purple cloth”).

Finally, I can’t deny the poetic nature of the rose. So many famous poets, authors, and playwrights (to include William Shakespeare), have used the rose as a metaphor for a variety of emotions, most often to symbolize love.

And, love is exactly what I feel.

I absolutely adore this little baby girl, Lydia Rose, who is nestled in my womb. I pray God’s blessings on her life many times a day, and I feel honored to have been given the chance to be her mother. I know I am on the brink of entering one of the most challenging times in my life, having two children under two, but I embrace the challenge as a gift that God wouldn’t have given me if He didn’t have a special plan for all of us.

We love you, Lydie, and we can’t wait to put a beautiful face with your precious name.

The yellow roses at The Alamo