A name.

A lot has happened since I last updated this blog. Thanksgiving, a fender-bender, Andrew's Christmas concert at school, a handful of holiday parties, and an ultrasound, to name a few. With this ultrasound came the knowledge that the baby growing inside me is very healthy and quite female. She was even doing abdominal crunches during the ultrasound. (Maybe that's why I'm hardly showing for 20 weeks...)

Armed with this newfound knowledge about our baby's gender, Andrew and I thought it might be safe to start discussing baby names again. (The discussions were recently halted due to concerns over marital well-being.)

[Now comes the disclaimer: We don't actually want to tell anyone the name we eventually select for this baby girl. I'm not very good with keeping my own secrets, so please help me out and don't ask me to divulge too much information. That being said, I asked Andrew for permission to tell the following story, and he agreed that the story was too 'classic' not to tell.]

Knowing that we're having a girl has really helped our baby name conversations. So much so, we thought we already had a name picked out yesterday - the same day as the ultrasound. How's that for turn-around time?! The name? Emily Rose. Now isn't that beautiful? I thought so. We loved it. The initials didn't accidentally spell anything inappropriate. It passed all of the tests I had in my mind. Or so I thought...

As I went to bed last night saying 'Emily Rose' in my head, I started to think maybe I'd heard that somewhere before. "Was it a book title? Maybe. Wait, no, I think it was a movie. Gee, I hope it was a good movie. I'd better check on that in the morning." So, this morning I had Andrew google "Emily Rose" for me. The top result: "The Exorcism of Emily Rose".

One name down, and one more thing to check when considering the next name.