The Ballard Bunch

There is no shame in stealing blog post ideas. And this one, taken from Lenette's blog, was right up my alley.

The idea is to tell the story of each of your children's names: how you came up with the idea, meanings behind your choice, struggles to convince your husband {or vice versa}, etc. I loved this idea because now I have each story documented to share with my kids later.

So, without further ado, we give you...

Tatum Gayle
I always loved the name Tatum. I won’t lie, I think I first heard it via Hollywood’s own child-actress turned druggie, Tatum O’Neal. And another truth? I’ve kept a running list of names since the 7th grade. Seriously, I update it and save it as a Word Document on my computer at least once a year. Names come and go, but Tatum always remained. {Not at the top, mind you…the list is, after all, alphabetical. Duh.} My love was solidified when, about 5 years ago I was at Costco and overheard a woman talking to her cute-as-all-getout 5 year old named Tatum.

Now, did Beau like it? Not so much. He loves the names of girls he either made out with or thought were totally hot. And, me being obsessive about negative or weird name associations, I used my “I’ve gained HOW MUCH WEIGHT carrying this baby in my body” veto power and quickly axed anything and everything I didn’t like. In fact, when I was first pregnant and brought the name Tatum up, I received a firm “no”. But, being the stubborn girl that I am, kept it on my list. Just a few months before delivering my first child, he suddenly liked the name. Not sure what turned it around, but I was happy.

So, we went to the hospital with two options {because I like to be prepared}: Riley and Tatum. And you know what? Despite his stubbornness the 9 months before, after watching me push for 2 & ½ hours to deliver our 10 ½ lb baby girl, he turned to me and said “We’ll name her whatever you want.” Tatum Gayle {my middle name}, it was.

Hayden Ruth
With my second pregnancy, and consequently second girl, one thing was for certain. She would be named after my Grandma Olson in one way or another.

I was totally cool with a middle name {Helen or Ruth} and even entertained the idea of naming her Helen and calling her Ellie. A fitting tribute for an incredibly amazing person, in my eyes. And, although Beau liked the idea of naming the baby after my gram in some way, he wasn’t so sold on the first name idea.

He did, however, give me a “I once knew this totally hot girl named…” idea that I loved {shocking, I know}: Hayden. At that point I was pretty sold on Laney, but when that option came up, we officially had our two names to take to the hospital: Laney Helen or Hayden Ruth. The final choice was much more of a joint decision than the first. When we saw her {born much smaller – 8 lbs 10 oz - and much quicker – 1 hour of pushing - than Tatum} we both saw a Hayden.** My only hesitation was that the names sounded so much alike: Tatum and Hayden, but she was who she was. Which brings us to our third child, our first boy.


Layne Ballard
This poor kid was doomed from the start.

Beau has ALWAYS loved the name Kayson. I knew it when we got married and I was okay with it for the most part. But as we got closer to the reality of naming the baby dude, I struggled with that as the final choice.

My arguments: 1) Tatum, Hayden, Kayson. Say them aloud. I did not want to be that mom. No offense to those that like themes with their kids’ names…I’m just not one of them. Plus, I’m already going to get them all mixed up {the classic mom shout of ever name but the one you intend}, so why try to give myself a disadvantage from the start, right? 2) Most everyone I told the name to said, “Oh Casey. That’s cute.” Not Casey. Kayson. I did not want to have to explain that one his whole life. 3) And I’ll be honest here, too, it was a total control thing for me. I didn’t like the feeling that I didn’t have a choice in the matter. It’s a fault, I know.

So, I once again referenced my handy, dandy list and found {or so I thought}, the perfect alternative: Cash. I’ve loved it for years. When I told family members that I liked that name, they all thought it was cute, totally uncommon, totally boy. {In fact, a few have used the name for their own babies born since} Beau wasn't buying it {pun intended}. “Johnny Cash” he would say, in the most horrible, raspy, mocking tone imaginable.

But, my hopes held high {and apparently, as you’ll see soon to come, so were his} we headed to St. Marks. And boy, oh boy, did things not go according to plan. Delivery was awesome, run-of-the-mill, induced labor, epidural, delivery, fat baby {9 lbs 12 oz}, healthy cry, pink cheeks; standard. So, as I handed my baby over to be cleaned up and for me to be reconstructed {gross I know, but sooooooooooooo true; baby delivery is not for the weak of folks} I never imagined that things would turn out the way they did.

I was told that I could, if strong enough to walk to my wheelchair unassisted, go and watch baby’s first bath given by Beau. Upon arrival to the nursery, we were greeted with an empty bassinet and a nurse that immediately directed us to the NICU. Apparently the little guy had some breathing issues and was taken over for further observation. Initial thought was that he maybe broken a collarbone during delivery. I guess it’s common and can affect breathing patterns. True story was, he had fluid in his lungs and was now officially the fatest baby in the NICU by pounds and pounds. We’d go to visit and when asked which one was ours, all we had to say was “the fat one”. He was so stinking cute. And I just wanted to hold him and have him in my room and show him off to visitors. But, not our reality this time around. So as we sat in the hospital for long days of recovery and visits to the NICU, we struggled with a name selection. Neither of us was willing to budge. And to be fair, it got to a point that even if one of us decided to give in, it would be something they would resent forever.

So, thanks to orders given by Karen {honorary Aunt to all my kiddies}, the three of us {yes, she stayed to make sure it happened} sat and went through every other possible name option. We couldn’t let that baby be in the hospital alone for days without a proper name, right? And, thank goodness for my running list, we stumbled upon the name Layne and both liked it. Layne Ray {after Beau}. Perfect fit.

So there you have it.

And for the record, I do still have a running list. Just in case. Not knocked up, but not ruling it out in the future yet either.