When we first found out we were pregnant, I tossed out the name Camilla to the hubs and he laughed. "Like Camilla Parker Bowles?" He said Camilla was up there with Cher. What, it's not like I wanted to name her Beyonce.
Unlike a first pregnancy, the second one is easy to forget about. People ask me how I'm feeling and it takes me a second to get it. "Oh. I'm fine, and you?" and I walk past a mirror and it dawns on me I'll be giving birth soon. This is in contrast to last time, where I laid on online expecting clubs, read every pregnancy book known to man, created "birth art", obsessed over the chosen baby name like it was an ancient text. This time we put a name in the hopper and considered it done.
However. Ladies change their minds (see: "me hating on bleach" and maybe "Christmas trees", thank you Jade). Today I decided to revisit Camilla and two things pop to mind: vanilla and camel. I can't name my baby after what feels like an exotic cigarette, but what about Camille? No, not "ka-meel" rather "ka-MEE"? Camille! Bee and Milly? Or would I be setting the child up for a life time of "NO, not ka-meel, ka-MEE" and is that such a bad thing? Camille. Do I take this seriously or run back the name we've been calling her for three months that CERTAIN celebrities totally stole from me?
I'm glad I don't have any other decisions to make this time because now I'm pooped. Off to gnaw on something chocolate . . .
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