I unearthed my original hospital birth certificate tonight while going through desk drawers in our guest room. I’m not sure why it ended up there to begin with, but I suppose it was with like items and it probably made sense to me at the time.

I have two reflections regarding this discovery:

1) I had really, really tiny feet. And I bet they were cute. All baby feet are cute. If you don’t think so, well, bah humbug. You must be fraternizing with the person who once told me that all babies are born ugly. C’mon now. They’re all beautiful to someone. And most are cute only shortly after they unwrinkle a little bit and have a chance to stretch out for a few hours. Clearly this person hadn’t had a child of his own. I hope he never tells a date the same thing. He may remain childless that way. 😉 Kidding. Mostly.

2, and more importantly) Our new baby will have a birth certificate of his or her very own in approximately eight weeks. And if it’s a boy, said birth certificate might stay blank for awhile. Maybe it’s because we already used the one name we were very set on for Henry, I’m not sure. But we can’t seem to land on a name. This perplexes me and also kind of makes me a little nutty. I’m just being honest. I know we’ll come up with something we love, but I’d feel better if we knew what that name was now. If we have a little girl, she’s good to go. Why is this baby naming thing so tricky sometimes?

Time will tell on both fronts…Boy or girl? Name or no name? If you don’t have a name for your baby, do they let you leave the hospital anyway? I don’t think we’d let it get that far, but I am curious. How long can you go without a name?

don’t worry little button. we’ll land on something amazing for you. we might have to meet you first, but it’ll be the best name we could ever pick for our littlest munchkin. i promise.

contemplating the teeniest of feet (and feeling them, too),

mm