One of the pictures below is Alex as a newborn. One is Christian. I guess they're brothers or something.
28 November 2007
27 November 2007
Pictures!
Just born.
In the hospital.
Heading home. Yes, we dressed him in a cow outfit.
Meeting big brother.
Whew! That went well.
In the hospital.
Heading home. Yes, we dressed him in a cow outfit.
Meeting big brother.
Whew! That went well.
Bonus picture because Melissa kept asking for one
One of the very very few pictures of me pregnant . I'm actually in the early stages of labor...
My water broke - and oh! that's it's own story - about an hour after this was taken.
22 November 2007
Christian Bryce is here
Christian Bryce was born Monday 19 November at 00.27 am.
He's three weeks early, but healthy. (Those 27 minutes past midnight got us to the 37th week of the pregnancy, meaning he is technically a full-term baby; this means there are a few tests that he didn't have to have that they would have done if he'd been born one hour earlier. Crazy, huh?)
He weighed in at 3390 grams (about 7.5 pounds) and 49 cm (about 19 inches). If you include his hair, he'd be about 52cm/20 inches. Seriously. The boy needs a haircut already.
Pictures soon.
He's three weeks early, but healthy. (Those 27 minutes past midnight got us to the 37th week of the pregnancy, meaning he is technically a full-term baby; this means there are a few tests that he didn't have to have that they would have done if he'd been born one hour earlier. Crazy, huh?)
He weighed in at 3390 grams (about 7.5 pounds) and 49 cm (about 19 inches). If you include his hair, he'd be about 52cm/20 inches. Seriously. The boy needs a haircut already.
Pictures soon.
16 November 2007
The name game
Although I wore this shirt to my last OB appointment, I didn't actually ask the question. I'm almost 37 weeks (Alex was born at 38w2d), so at this late date it's pretty pointless to ask about the baby's sex. I'm amazed I resisted the temptation, frankly, especially when it became clear that choosing a name for a boy was going to be a lot harder this time around than last - and it was hard enough last time. A girl's name was easy - basically I told Reto what I wanted and he recognized the futility of resistance - but boys? I don't know why it was so hard, but when I was pregnant with Alex we just put off thinking about a boy's name. Then at 34 weeks I almost went into labor and realized we have no name if it's a boy. After a few days in the hospital my doctor sent me home and I insisted that we come up with a boy name ASAP.
We made lists. Reto made an excel worksheet with our choices, where we overlapped, how we each ranked the name, and the meaning (because he's a computer geek like that). In the end we had ten boys' names to choose from. We picked a first and middle name (and may I say we chose a fabulous combination) and good thing, seeing as how he turned out to be a boy and all.
Fast forward to this pregnancy and once again we have the girl's name (the same one) and are struggling with the boy. I found the lists we made when trying to name Alex, the one with the eight other names that we in theory liked and agreed on and of the eight? Yeah, I don't like them anymore. Which makes sense as my heart knows they are names I turned down once. So we're back to the drawing board picking boy names. We're making some headway, but I don't know why we have such trouble with male names.
I think most parents put a lot of thought and energy into choosing names; it's a big deal after all. And it's hard to come to terms: your favorite name reminds him of the guy who stole his milk money every day in the forth grade, his favorite name is your brother's name, your sister gives birth and uses the name you picked out (the hazards of keeping these things secret). You just don't like it, he just thinks it's funny. You want to name her after your grandmother, he wants to name her after his. The first name has to work with the last name; if there are older children the names should sound nice together. There's a lot of negotiating.
On top of the standard naming issues, Reto and I have an additional consideration: the name has to work in English and German pronunciations and in US and Swiss cultures at a bare minimum. (It's bad enough that Reto's last name uses an umlaut, which the US social security administration cannot accommodate - as a result Alex’s last name is spelled differently on his US passport and his Swiss passport). Although our current plans and Reto's career trajectory see us living in Switzerland well into Alex’s school years, and probably this baby’s as well, we've never ruled out moving if the conditions were right; moving to the US or moving to an interesting third country. So names that translate, names that are at least recognizable in multiple cultures, names that don't change genders when you cross borders (Jan, anyone? Jean?) are important to us. This leaves us with some really nice classic names, but it also rules out a lot.
For example, one of my favorite Swiss names for a boy is Beat - and all of you not familiar with Switzerland who just rhymed that with "feet" in their heads have demonstrated why that name won't work for somebody who will be living half of his life in English. It's pronounced "Bay-aht" in Switzerland. Reto and I happen to know a Beat who, as luck would have it, is married to an American woman, and he pretty much spends his life correcting the mispronunciation of his name. For an adult it's an annoyance (for that matter, Reto’s name, though seemingly simple, trips a lot of people up) but can you imagine if we move to the US just in time for a son of ours named Beat to enter, say, the fifth grade? Fun times on the playground for sure.
Then there are the names that just sound funny when pronounced in German or are too Swiss - see above, Beat - for the US. Or too American for Switzerland. And then there is the nick-name issue. The Swiss, they loooove the nicknames. If your name is Jane, the Swiss will find a way to give you a diminuative. Jacob becomes Kobi; Sebastian becomes Sebu; Christian becomes Chrigu; Konrad becomes Konu; Thomas becomes Thomu. As an adult it's possible to get people to use your full name, but you couldn't get a Swiss teacher to call a seven year old boy "Sebastian" for love or money. He would be a Sebu. I like some of the nicknames - personally, I like Chrigu well enough - and dislike others. I love the name Sebastian - Sebu, not so much. Konrad, yes; Konu, eh. Every time I think of a boy's name, I ask Reto for the nick-name (and there is always a nick-name). And half the time it leads to scratching another name off the list. If there had been one reason to find out the baby's sex, it would have been on the off chance we'd get to avoid the whole boy name issue. It's taking up rather a lot of mental energy that I don't really have to spare.
All that having been said, however, if I gave birth to a boy tonight we could name the baby. It's quite a relief.
We made lists. Reto made an excel worksheet with our choices, where we overlapped, how we each ranked the name, and the meaning (because he's a computer geek like that). In the end we had ten boys' names to choose from. We picked a first and middle name (and may I say we chose a fabulous combination) and good thing, seeing as how he turned out to be a boy and all.
Fast forward to this pregnancy and once again we have the girl's name (the same one) and are struggling with the boy. I found the lists we made when trying to name Alex, the one with the eight other names that we in theory liked and agreed on and of the eight? Yeah, I don't like them anymore. Which makes sense as my heart knows they are names I turned down once. So we're back to the drawing board picking boy names. We're making some headway, but I don't know why we have such trouble with male names.
I think most parents put a lot of thought and energy into choosing names; it's a big deal after all. And it's hard to come to terms: your favorite name reminds him of the guy who stole his milk money every day in the forth grade, his favorite name is your brother's name, your sister gives birth and uses the name you picked out (the hazards of keeping these things secret). You just don't like it, he just thinks it's funny. You want to name her after your grandmother, he wants to name her after his. The first name has to work with the last name; if there are older children the names should sound nice together. There's a lot of negotiating.
On top of the standard naming issues, Reto and I have an additional consideration: the name has to work in English and German pronunciations and in US and Swiss cultures at a bare minimum. (It's bad enough that Reto's last name uses an umlaut, which the US social security administration cannot accommodate - as a result Alex’s last name is spelled differently on his US passport and his Swiss passport). Although our current plans and Reto's career trajectory see us living in Switzerland well into Alex’s school years, and probably this baby’s as well, we've never ruled out moving if the conditions were right; moving to the US or moving to an interesting third country. So names that translate, names that are at least recognizable in multiple cultures, names that don't change genders when you cross borders (Jan, anyone? Jean?) are important to us. This leaves us with some really nice classic names, but it also rules out a lot.
For example, one of my favorite Swiss names for a boy is Beat - and all of you not familiar with Switzerland who just rhymed that with "feet" in their heads have demonstrated why that name won't work for somebody who will be living half of his life in English. It's pronounced "Bay-aht" in Switzerland. Reto and I happen to know a Beat who, as luck would have it, is married to an American woman, and he pretty much spends his life correcting the mispronunciation of his name. For an adult it's an annoyance (for that matter, Reto’s name, though seemingly simple, trips a lot of people up) but can you imagine if we move to the US just in time for a son of ours named Beat to enter, say, the fifth grade? Fun times on the playground for sure.
Then there are the names that just sound funny when pronounced in German or are too Swiss - see above, Beat - for the US. Or too American for Switzerland. And then there is the nick-name issue. The Swiss, they loooove the nicknames. If your name is Jane, the Swiss will find a way to give you a diminuative. Jacob becomes Kobi; Sebastian becomes Sebu; Christian becomes Chrigu; Konrad becomes Konu; Thomas becomes Thomu. As an adult it's possible to get people to use your full name, but you couldn't get a Swiss teacher to call a seven year old boy "Sebastian" for love or money. He would be a Sebu. I like some of the nicknames - personally, I like Chrigu well enough - and dislike others. I love the name Sebastian - Sebu, not so much. Konrad, yes; Konu, eh. Every time I think of a boy's name, I ask Reto for the nick-name (and there is always a nick-name). And half the time it leads to scratching another name off the list. If there had been one reason to find out the baby's sex, it would have been on the off chance we'd get to avoid the whole boy name issue. It's taking up rather a lot of mental energy that I don't really have to spare.
All that having been said, however, if I gave birth to a boy tonight we could name the baby. It's quite a relief.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)