Way back when...a million or so sleepwalks ago...we found out we were pregnant with twins. Twins run in my family. Rampantly. My great uncle & his brother were twins. My aunt & uncle are fraternal twins. My cousins are fraternal twins. And when my doctor told me we were having twins, I assumed fraternal.
We found out the gender of Baby A. She was very accommodating.
Her twin was not. She carefully hid her 'parts' for the duration.
So while we were able to settle on a name for A, B was rather nameless. She was an idea, a thought, a kick in the gallbladder, but nameless.
Since the babies were conceived on the date of Princess Diana's funeral, and Mother Teresa's death, I thought briefly about Teresa Diane for Baby B. A name she spurns. ::sigh::
But Baby A's name means, "Father's Joy." And that she is. No matter how grumpy she is in the morning, how obstinate, how hateful, she can wave her little finger at her daddy and be in his good graces. We chose Crab's name because we liked it, but it suits her perfectly.
Baby B, at two days old, was given the name of my sorority sister. A sorority sister who had to have a complete hysterectomy before age 25. My Chi Omega sister is unable to bear her own children, but her caring, fun, giving, generous nature lives on in my daughter. My daughter whose name means "Fierce Warrior." My strong little baby who could stand at six weeks old. My fierce little Yellybird who fights to protect her sister.
I never imagined their names could be so wisely chosen, or so special.