Eva was almost Fern.
Joe chose our son’s name, Max, so I figured it was rightfully my turn. I vacillated between Eva and Fern. I meditated before a fern in my living room while trying to conceive. I traveled to New Zealand with Eva, where the fern has many meanings among the native Maoris. And, let’s face it, I love a forest floor full of ferns. As a name, it’s classic, yet unique.
The only Fern I have ever known went to church with my grandma. She was always put together in a suit with matching purse. A tiny, precious, dear woman who would take my Grandma to church after she started to develop dementia. I could see my daughter being named Fern.
But then our world was flipped upside down, and I instantly knew our girl’s name HAD to be Eva. Joe agreed. Eva means “life,” the Latin version of Eve. Life. I secretly hoped if we named her this it would change her fate.
It was the middle name of my dear Granny, Bertha Eva; and her mother’s name. And Eva’s middle name has significance, LeeAnn—Lee is Joe’s mom’s middle name; Ann is mine and my moms. Eva LeeAnn, a clean and classic name that encompasses many strong women in her family tree.
Now, I love seeing Eva’s name. I take note of every little girl who carries it. A beautiful illustration of Eva hangs on our wall by her Auntie in New Zealand. Eva’s name has meaning, whether her lifetime extended decades or weeks.
Day 7 happens to be my 777 post on Instagram. This number has always been significant to me, but it holds A LOT of significance for Eva as well. Fun to see all those 7s lined up. 7️⃣7️⃣7️⃣