A girl by any other name

I've been turning this blog post over in my mind for a couple of weeks now.  I haven't really posted much else, because this has been tumbling around in my brain.  I'm still not sure if I'll be able to express myself well, but here goes.

Most of my legion of readers know about my daughter, Abigail (you can read her story here, just scroll to the bottom to read the posts in order).  She passed away two hours after she was born.  She would be almost 16 1/2 now.

I love my daughter's name.  Love it. Love that it means "my father's joy."  We were so excited to be having our baby girl.

After she died, I still loved her name, but was only comfortable saying it or hearing it when it applied to her.  I've often thought that it's a pity that I couldn't trademark it. Abigail.  MY baby.  MY daughter.

Understandably, I avoided babies, and baby girls specifically, in the years that followed.  I didn't hold a baby until I gave birth to Eli a year later, and since my daughter's death, have never held a baby named Abigail.

What I hadn't realized was HOW popular the name is!!!!  Not so much in older people--I've only encountered one or two adults named Abigail--and could barely choke it out.  I ended up calling them "Mrs. So-and-so" or just not addressing them directly.  It was uncomfortable, to say the least. (I do want to clarify here, that I've always done my best to hide this--I really wasn't out to make someone else uncomfortable.  Obviously, they had no control of the name their parents picked.)

When my kids were younger, it wasn't an issue.  I had complete control over who they came into contact with. If someone had a child named Abigail, we just didn't hang around with them.  (I hope this doesn't come across as petty--it's hard to describe what it feels like to meet someone, and not know their child's name, and then BAM--they say it, and you're trying to be nice and smile, and all the while, you just want to burst into tears, because you just weren't expecting it.)

But now that my children are older.....  Now that we're involved with more homeschool activities....  

SIGH

My daughters have no less than four close friends that they see on a weekly basis, who are named Abigail.  Different spellings, different ages....but all with that name.

This is hard for me.

Each of these girls is just a peach.  Smart, funny, beautiful.  Just great kids.  Really great kids.  The type of friends I want my daughters to have.  

But there's the issue of their name.

I try to ignore it.  Push through it. BE THE GROWN-UP.  

It is so hard to say their names.  To call them by name.  To look them in the eye.  To see either of my daughters with them and not want to weep at what could have been.

A few weeks ago, a family friend came shopping with me and Maddie.  Her name is Abbey.  She is exactly, to the day, 6 months younger than my Abby would be.  She is, without a doubt, one of the most fantastic girls we know.  She is friendly, outgoing, smart, talented, beautiful, kind.  Just a joy to be around.  She came with us to help Maddie pick out some new clothes.  An older, totally cute, stylish teenager to come shopping with us--Maddie was thrilled.  (I was just happy to have someone with cute, modest taste help her pick out clothes--God forbid MOM recommend an outfit....but I digress.)  And it was a ton of fun.  Maddie got some great pieces, and we had a blast.

But as I walked behind them through the mall, watching them chat and laugh......

Oh. My heart.  It felt like little knives sticking into it.  

This picture, this picture not just of what I have lost, but what Maddie has missed out on.  A big sister.

I will not lie...I had a moment there, a few moments there, breath catching, eyes blinking feverishly to fight back tears, deep breaths.

It was fine.  I was fine.  I AM fine.  This is just one of those things.  One of those aspects of grief that you can't anticipate.  When you're grieving the loss of your baby, you can't possibly imagine 16 years later that something like this will be an issue.  Honestly, you can't see a month ahead when it first happens.

But here I am.  In this new phase of life where my kids are making their own friends.  Friends that were born between 1995 and 2000, and every other one is named Abigail.  Okay, not really, but sometimes it feels like that.  God grant me the grace to love each of them as they should be loved, without any hesitation on my part because of a name.