What's In A Name?

Dear Victoria,

I was nine years old when I picked your name. I was the baby of the family when my mom announced she was pregnant. My parents were particular about names - always looked up the meanings and prayed that we would live up to the name they carefully chose for each of us. So, it was no surprise that they scrutinized over the coming baby's name. I'm not sure how the conversation started...whether it was over dinner or on a car ride to church, but my mom shared with us:

If it's a boy, his name will be Timothy Shalom. If the baby is a girl, her name will be Victoria Elizabeth. 

Oh man. Where's the PANIC BUTTON? Not only was this little one taking my baby status...this baby was threatening my tenure as princess!! This baby was to receive TWO VERY STRONG, REGAL NAMES....1. Victoria 2. Elizabeth. All I had, and there was no changing it at this point, was ONE name. Noemi. I love my name. I do! But...I was so worried about having a sister - especially with this name. This Victoria Elizabeth was going to dethrone me from everything I ever knew to be true about my existence! I felt that my life would never be the same. You can imagine how relieved I was to find that my younger sibling was, in fact, a boy!

And again - I'm not sure how the conversation started, but shortly after your Uncle Tim's birth I announced:

When I have a baby girl, her name will be Victoria Elizabeth!

Victory. God is my Abundance.

Victory. 

Sweet baby girl - God knew when I was nine that you would come to us small and would need a strong name.

You came to this earth 3 months early, because I was VERY ill. My condition was threatening our lives - yours all the more fragile. I felt just fine...but a trip to the dentist sent me to the emergency room where I stubbornly and ignorantly refused care. I felt fine! Promise. The next day, I went to the doctor's office and she calmly, yet in a very clear, swift way told me that I would need further evaluation that would be better facilitated at the hospital.

I was finally admitted...and I couldn't wait to be released. I wondered if I should call in for a substitute the next day. Wondered if the lesson plans I had would be carried out - all that work for naught if I wasn't there to follow through. November is a busy time for a teacher. I wondered how in the world I would accomplish everything for school and get things ready for the upcoming holidays while laying in a hospital bed!!! So, I finally asked if I could go home soon. After all, I was there for a few tests...

You know what they told me?

Ma'am - you're not going home. Not until this baby gets here. It could be up to seven weeks. 

What?! At that point I still did not understand the severity of the situation, and the only thing I that TRULY upset me was the thought of being confined to a bed in a foreign place while family celebrated THANKSGIVING and CHRISTMAS at Gramma's house! Silly me.

The nurses continued to run tests on both of us. Doctors shared information about you in such a way that minimized my level of stress and fear. They said it would be seven weeks before you graced us with your presence, but I think they knew from the beginning...they knew that you would come much sooner.

Every time the doctors came in, they changed the time frame:

- Ma'am, It could be in the next couple of weeks that you have your baby. 

- Ma'am, It will probably be within the next week that you have your baby. 

-Ma'am. You will have your baby in three days.  

- Ma'am. We are going to deliver your baby this morning at 10:30. 

Every time they shortened your ETA, I grew more fearful. They told me that when you arrived, you would most likely have to be intubated. They told me that you were very small for your age - two weeks behind. That you were no longer receiving sufficient oxygen because my body was in distress  and systems weren't working as they should. That they wouldn't know exactly what you needed until you were here.

All the other doctors softened the blow, but one very young, inexperienced doctor BLUNTLY stated: "Your baby may or may not make it."

I lost it. I sobbed. I was scared about you coming early, but the thought of losing you NEVER crossed my mind until this doctor uttered those disheartening words. Your daddy held my hand and cried with me. All of the people in the room did everything to get me to take a deep breath and calm down.

It was at that point that I began to grieve.

Sure, I prayed the whole time I was there. I was praying that everything would be okay and prayed that whatever this was could be something manageable, so I could go on with life as usual. But those were selfish prayers...Prayers of a person who had things "under control."

My prayers soon became pleas to God. Victoria, all my prayers revolved around your name. I asked God, in Jesus name, to give you Victory in life. To make you strong to show His power. To get you through this journey to show His miraculous deeds.

The surgery was a blur except for one moment - the moment when I finally heard your small, yet fierce cry! I cheered for you: "That's my girl! Use those lungs those lungs, Victoria!"

At twenty seven weeks, you were born a feisty one pound thirteen ounce little girl. Your birth records describe you as "Vigorous - Crying at birth." Your lungs amazed doctors - all you needed was a CPap. Your journey in the NICU was a roller coaster, but an amazing story nonetheless. The nurses loved on and cared for you so well! I felt especially happy knowing that they were your advocates when I couldn't be there. Your daddy and I wrote down all the details and shared them with family and friends so that they could pray for you too. You even had complete strangers praying for you! You were prayed for through and through! (I wish I had a picture of everyone praying in the waiting room. I only got to hear about it.)

You know what was so clear to me? Have you heard the popular verse, Jeremiah 29:11? Don't allow the familiarity to overshadow the amazing truth! It's never been more clear, Victoria!

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

God knew you needed a strong name way back when I was nine years old!! Not only that - He knew that He would be my abundance during the time I was most in need.

Never forget God's goodness towards you, my dear girl. I will teach you to sing to the Lord, because He has dealt bountifully with us (Psalm 13:6).

And truth be told, twenty four years after deciding on your beautiful name, you -  Victorious Victoria - came into my life and changed everything. My life will never be the same again because I have the honor of being your mother.

I couldn't be more grateful and proud.

I love you my princess!

Your Mama