I’ve been delaying, and for no good reason.

Her name is Alice!

Alice Esther.

“Alice” because I think it’s a beautiful name. In fact, I didn’t even look up the meaning until drafting this post–for the record, it’s a Franco-Germanic name meaning “noble, exalted,” or “noble, of the noble kind.” It comes from Adal (noble) and heid (type).

“Esther” because, as my husband says, she was beautiful inside and out. She was a woman of character, who lived fully in the world and all its mess (no bubble existence for this beauty queen) while also being fully committed to God, his people, and his mission, to the extent that she uttered those famous and thrilling words, “If I die, I die.”

We had pretty much agreed on a name for a girl and a name for a boy before going in for our ultrasound, so once we found out that the Little Wa-Wa is a girl, we just kind of started calling her by name.

We didn’t talk about it first, debate our options, or decide to make the transition–it just happened, in bed one night if I recall correctly.

And then her name started to slip out as I talked about her with others. After this happened a few times, I made myself stop and think. “A lot of people choose to wait until the baby is born to share the name–are you sure you want to just blab it all over the place?” my Cautionary Self questioned.

And my heartfelt answer to myself was–YES!

She is a little girl now. She has an identity now. She has a personality, a favorite spot in my belly, a relationship with God, and hopefully a taste for Thai food (since I’ve been shoveling that stuff down like a madwoman). So why wait until she actually comes into the outer world to call her by name? I want this reminder (to myself as well as others) that she is Alice now, and she will be Alice then too–that she’s the same little girl before birth and after birth.

When my husband says, “What’s Alice up to?” I get a thrill.

When my friends or sisters ask, “How’s little Alice doing?” I get a thrill.

Calling her by name has given my love for her an extra foothold, and I feel it growing every time I talk about her . . . think about her . . . pray for her . . . my daughter, Alice.