One million seven hundred and thirty points go to Blair.
She noticed a little something in a previous post that was a clue to what we have named Baby Bower.
Yup, that was a cropped photo of Jeremy’s stocking. But if you zoom out just a wee bit…
…you see what we have decided our little bambino will be called.
Once we found out it was going to be a boy the choice was really easy. We narrowed it down to two names….William Jackson Bower or William David Michael Hughes Bower. One sounds like a civil war hero. Say it out loud in this sentence – “WILLIAM JACKSON BOWER and his troops of seventeen thousand stormed Charlotte.” See what I mean? Yeah. 1861 here we come.
And the other, well, it’s a mouthful. William David Michael Hughes Bower is not exactly a kid’s dream. But I figure that some Latinos have long names…and what’s a few more syllables, really?!?! And he’s already gonna be made fun of for having a crazy mother. So we might as well get really tough armadillo style skin on the kid.
In the end, we went with the civil war hero moniker.
William is actually Jeremy’s first name. And he is the fifth in his family to be named William. Plus my dad is William and my family has about ten other people with William in their name. That’s a whole lotta Williams. But the funny thing is – nobody goes by Will. So easy peasy poopie squeezy.
And Jack is Jeremy’s grandfather’s name. And a name of one of my best friends (who had this fabulous wedding!). So of course we fell in love with it immediately as an option. Plus, I mean, who doesn’t appreciate Jack Bauer?!?! seriously people. But we both prefered Jackson…hey, we live in the south. Then we looked up the meaning. Jackson means son of Jack. Jack is a form of John. And John means God is Gracious.
For me it came down to that right there. God is Gracious.
My old pastor used to say that mercy is not getting something we deserve. Like a whippin’.
Well, grace is getting something we DON’T deserve. Like a child.
That is exactly how I feel about this baby. I don’t deserve him. I haven’t done a single thing in my life that merits a healthy pregnancy, much less an infant. I’ve never been kind enough. Or good enough. Or generous enough. Or funny enough. I’ve never earned this. Or been worthy. Or ought to get it because of something I’ve done. My God is gracious. That is the only explanation.
That and my boyfriend is a stud 🙂