Emma vs Elisabeth

Little Flower

As it turns out, Emma may actually be an Elisabeth.

I had my suspicions for a while, especially when she, well, just feels like an Elisabeth sometimes. In my head, I toy with the idea of calling her “Lizzie”.

And then Augz revealed that he had almost called her “Ellie” a few times.


Me & Emma

All along, I had expected Emma to be this spunky, spirited character, which is probably the sort of girl I had pictured her to be. Maybe the projection stemmed from Matthew being so incredibly cheeky these days, or how I see myself (nowhere near the descriptions of “sweet” and “demure”). In some ways, I like to think girls should have a chilli-padi aspect too.

Emma the babe

But when Emma was first placed in my arms in the operating theatre, and subsequently whenever she was brought to me for feedings while we were still at Mount Alvernia, I started noticing that she’s… a girl.

As a newborn, her elder brother Matt learnt quickly how to wail for milk, and I prided myself on recognising his cries even before he entered the quad-sharing ward. Emma hardly makes a squeak; rather, she patiently sniffs around for milk and if she has to wait a tad too long, she begins sniffling a little here and there.

Such a gentle sprite, she is.

At one-month-old, she hasn’t yet demanded for milk, or attention. She simply cries in a pitiful girly way when she wants to be carried. It’s like, she’s this little bundle of shy sweetness who’s just contented to be… loved.

Of course, things may change. I can’t wait to see how her personality develops… but for now, if girls are embodied by pink, she’s definitely more pastel than fuchsia. More candy than chocolate, and more like the whimsical Disney princess than the sassy Pixar heroine-types.

So we’re contemplating “Elisabeth” for her baptism name.

While Emma means “universal” and “complete” which really captures how we believe a woman can and should be – totally whole in her own being, Elisabeth stands for “God is my oath” – such beautiful acquiescence.

Well, we’ll see.

Either way, Elisabeth or no, we are grateful for our lovely little Emma, our very own little flower who in her own small ways – really small and quiet ways – has taught us how to love in gentler ways.

Happy One-Month-Old, Sweetheart…


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