Now we know we are having a girl, the name game as begun.We have a list of possible names that we like.We are hoping to have some sort of implicit meaning in our names, other than we liked it. There should be a story.
My name story always amused me. My parents had decided that if it was girl my mom would name me, if I was a boy my dad would name me. My mom had picked out Raquel Aleda after my godmother and my grandmother. I was born on that frigid February morning and my dad was given the papers to fill out as my mother rested after delivery. He just couldn't bring himself to write down the names. So he named me Christine no middle name. He figured I already had a Spanish last name, and most people hate their middle names, both my parents do. I was in America, I should have an American name. Thus, Christine. The first day of kindergarten I claimed that I should be called Christy. My mom calls me Tina because Christina is Spanish ends in Tina. Most of my relatives call me Cristina, except one cousin that has always called me Chris. The history teacher at work calls me Chrissy and through the years I have responded to a million variations of the name. It works for me and I thank the Lord my dad didn't think I was Raquel (be sure to add that rolling R when you say that). I just can't imagine myself with the big hair, red lipstick and giant hoop earrings...not really my style. So there is a lot in a name.
Back to the drawing board we go. Slap, slap, clap, clap, snap, snap, A- Agatha...hmmmm