In a previous post, I explained the debating and compromising it took for us to settle on a name for our second baby girl. But because we weren't revealing the name until she arrived, I couldn't explain the why behind the names - just the initials.
Ray chose Anna, and I chose Reese. There are Anns on both sides:
- Carol Ann, my grandmother
- Stacey Ann, my aunt
- Ann Johnson, Ray's mom
- Elizabeth Ann, Ray's sister
About two months before Anna was born, Ray and I were lying in bed talking about her imminent arrival and debating what to call her. I wanted to call her Reese, and he wanted to call her Anna. As someone who's gone by his middle name his whole life, Ray feels like it's just sort of a hassle. But I have several friends with daughters named Anna, and I didn't want her to have to be Anna H. at school. All of a sudden, I realized there was already an Anna in our family. My paternal grandmother, the one with whom I shared a birthday and who is why I wanted a girl born in September so badly, was Anna Clarice Fletcher. I had completely forgotten her given name because she was Clarice "Squeaky" Fletcher VanLandingham for so long. Remembering this really changed how I felt about calling her Anna. Suddenly, it just felt right. Even though she is not named after Granny Squeaky, I really like that they share a name. And calling her Anna feels like a nice way to include Granny. (Also, it has not escaped me that "Reese" is the pronunciation of the last syllable of Granny's middle name. I'm choosing to think that Granny had a little hand in this - it was her way of being involved even though she's not here with us.)
So, on the night we brought Anna Reese Handley home from the hospital, we toasted her with a bottle of Anna champagne (courtesy of Jack and Ann Handley) in glasses that originally belonged to Anna Clarice Fletcher VanLandingham.
Life is good.
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