Joyous. Joyful. Jubilant.

A celebration.

Before we learned he was, in fact, boy…we thought we might be having a girl. Everyone I knew thought I was carrying a daughter. We were so convinced that we’d hardly even entertained boy names, save for a passing comment the night after we’d first learned I was pregnant. We had run through an extensive list of girl names we loved, and had decided on our daughter’s name. I often referred to the growing being in my belly by the name we’d chosen.

The morning of our fetal heart echo, (Papa’s heart defect had us preparing, just in case) I envisioned the ultrasound tech pressing the wand to my belly to scan the growing wee one inside my womb, and suddenly “knew” that I was carrying a son.

A similar scenario occurred when I was pregnant with my first child. After weeks of rubbing my belly and saying “she,” “her,” “daughter,” I remember lying in bed one night and all at once being overwhelmed by the feeling that, without doubt, I was having a boy.


But before the universal whispers, and sky-held certainty there were several weeks, during which, I imagined daughters.

So with my youngest, as we were trying out different names and the way those names?felt coming from our mouths – do they fall off the tongue or trip over the teeth, do they ring softly when paired with middle and last name, or do they bounce off one another like bumper cars, and stumble clumsily over each other – before we’d decided on “her” name, I fell in love with the name Jubilee.

Even after we’d decided on a completely different name, I kept coming back to Jubilee. The way the name sang softly as I said it out loud, like a bell, or a wind chime.

Jubilee. Celebration.

Our son is now nearing age one, and as each day passes and the first birthday rite of passage approaches, I am in awe of him. His personality is emerging daily. He learns new things, makes new sounds, tries out new words.

He is energetic. Passionate. And stubborn like his mama.

And he sometimes wakes in the early morning… clapping. I find this is one of the most delightful things to witness. Wee dimpled hands clapping in his unique “courtesy clap” way. Left hand over right. A slight grin on his face. Eyes still closed in gentle waking. The sun peeking in through the blinds.

It IS a celebration.

He is full of glee. Full of cheer. Happy at the coming day. Happy to be part of the world. Happy to wake next to mommy and daddy. Happy knowing he is loved and cherished.

Of course, I only assume all these things. Perhaps he is simply happy that his diaper is not currently messed.

But I like to think that I am right,

and that he greets his day with such joy,

such bliss,

such Jubilee.