What's in a name?: Take 2

Banner week of all weeks in the Wittig family. Friday afternoon, Colleen and I closed on our first home purchase and immediately began cleaning and moving in.  All weekend we stripped wallpaper, dealt with plumbing issues, tore up horrible carpet, and hauled our possessions across town with the invaluable help of my parents and some great friends. 

We were in the throes of moving, then this happened

Monday morning, it took me 7 minutes to walk to my office from our new residence, which was a fantastic feeling. After work on Monday, Colleen and I filled our evening with packing/unpacking and working on various projects at the house. Within 5 minutes of bringing our last load into the house from the cars and Colleen crashing on the couch, we got a call saying our birth mother was being induced. Though exhausted, we frantically ran around trying to find all of the things we'd just packed (I definitely uttered the words, "Where are my boxers?!?! I don't want to go meet my son commando, but I will if I have to.") before we got on the road to Cincinnati. 

We arrived at 1am and our 6lbs 5oz, 19", son was born at 1:48am. We didn't get to see him until after 4am, but when we did, the first thing I noticed about him was his incredible full head of hair. He is beautiful, and amazingly chilled and relaxed. 

When we met him, he was in the NICU, the same place where we spent 8 days during our failed adoption in March/April. Walking back in there was a surreal feeling to say the least, especially since it was 5 months to the day that Asher/Jason was born; many of the nurses recognized us and had taken care of Jason before and after we were with him. 

It was wonderful spending time with our son in the wee hours while he slept, but finally around 6am this morning we collapsed onto some cots they provided for us - I think because we looked so tired and bedraggled. We now have him in a private room until the hospital discharges him in a few days, but even after that he and Colleen will have to stay in Cincinnati until things are finalized - probably mid to late next week. 

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It is a bit terrifying to write one of these again - and by these, I mean an explanation of the name of our son - since I wrote something similar a few months ago and things traumatically didn't work with that adoption.  However, I have decided that I will not be held captive to fear.  Loving means taking chances and making yourself vulnerable, knowing that getting hurt is a distinct possibility.  That's what happened to God when He chose to create and love humans... he was betrayed and ended up getting crushed.  But thankfully for us, He kept on loving.

So, even though we're nervous that something will happen again to mess up this adoption, we're trying not to hold back or guard our hearts.  I'd rather throw myself into this and deal with the emotional repercussions if things fall apart again, than always regret holding back or half-assing parenthood for the first days of my son's life.

We are proud to introduce our son, Cashel Ambrose Wittig.  

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There wasn't nearly the consensus with this name as "last time" with Asher, and we deliberated naming him after everyone from philosphers, soccer stars, actors, and our favorite foods... When we arrived at the hospital, we had two main names in mind, but though this is a closed adoption, we were so blessed to be able to speak with Cashel's biological aunt, who helped us confirm that Cashel was the best name for him. 

The Rock of Cashel (taken on our semester in Ireland, 2004

First of all, we just like the way Cashel sounds.  Apparently we are partial to "ash" sounds... maybe that explains why we love mashed potatos, Ashton Kutcher (wait, no we don't...), Ashville North Carolina, seven year old King Joash from the Bible, Steve Nash, Johnny Cash, Ashley Judd (wait, not particularly), Ashley Cole (Ugh. Definitely not.), flashing (no comment), and the Clash so much. 

Colleen and I started dating while studying abroad in Ireland in 2004.  One of our favorite places that we visited was the Rock of Cashel, an incredible 1000 year old ruins and cathedral. Cashel means "rock fortress" and is also the name of the town in Ireland near the Rock.  There's a famous stone at Cashel that is somehow lucky or fortuitous for your marriage if a man carries a woman around it a few times.  As you can see in the picture below from 2004, I am not carrying Colleen... I was probably too afraid of commitment at that point!  We'll have to remedy that if we ever go back.  Colleen's family's Irish heritage is significant to her, and we are proud to give Cashel an Irish name. 

That's right... that's not me carrying Colleen. Things did seem to work out for the other two in this shot though... they were married this past June!

In Old Testament Hebrew, "el" in a name denotes Elohim, which means "god" or implies the plural godhead of the trinity.  For instance, Samuel means "asked of God," Emmanuel means "God with us," and Elijah essentially translates "Elohim is Yahweh" or "the Lord is God."  Cashel is obviously not a Hebrew word or name, but the "el" is still significant to us.  Even though you'll never find it in book of baby name definitions, we're going to tell Cashel that his name means God is a Fortress, and we hope that he holds fast to that truth.

This is about the most beautiful picture ever to me

Another benefit of this name, is that it fulfills one of my late Nana's dream of having a family with names that all start with the same letter.  One of the first times Nana met Colleen, she pulled her aside in her typically conniving fashion, and gave her a list of name suggestions for our future child all starting with "C" (since we were Colleen and Cason).  We weren't even officially dating yet.  Nana, one of the Godliest yet most mischievous women I've ever known, apparently knew something before we did.  It is probably more likely that "Clyde" and "Cliff" were on her list than Cashel, but at least we got the letter right.

And finally, with a nickname like "Cash," they sky's the limit for this kid, right?  Cash Wittig could be a cowboy, CEO, soccer phenom, president, rapper, concert cellist, humanitarian, author... the possibilities are endless.  Cowboy has got to be the most likely though, right?  Or banker.  Or pawn shop owner. Hmm.

Also, except for being slightly ruined by the WWE and Hollywood star Dwayne Casey, "the Rock" (as in, "of Cashel") is a pretty fantastic nickname.  Maybe more for a linebacker than a concert cellist though, so we'll have to see how that plays out.  

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Impressive Hair

We love our families.  Colleen's side of the family, the Ramsays and Ambroses, are the biggest reason that we moved to Central Kentucky. Ambrose means "immortal," which we believe Cashel will be... not because he is the half-god offspring of a mythological being and a mortal (though we have no way of proving otherwise), but because we believe that our souls will live forever. 

One of the great things about our Kentucky families is the abundance of cousins that Cashel will have in his age group. On the Ramsay side he has a first cousin named Graham born just 2 weeks ago and a second cousin named Lucy about a week older than him.  And on the Ambrose side of the family, there's a Baby Boy Todd due in December. This kid won't ever lack for playmates!

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I wrote about Wittig the first go around and will just rinse & reuse the last name section of that post here... and probably for all of our future children:

//Begin self-plagiarized portion// 

Cashel is a Wittig.  Like all Wittigs, little Cashel will be cursed with having his name mispronounced and misspelled for the rest of his life.  Whitting?  Wittrig?  Whitig?  Widdic?  Sometimes I'm not sure I know how to pronounce it.  Cashel better get used to spelling it out every time, just like the rest of us. 

In 4 years of having "Cason Wittig" announced over the loudspeaker when I played high school basketball, it was never pronounced correctly at a road game.  Not once.  I think the only person to ever actually pronounce Wittig correctly was my crazy German soccer coach who would scream "Vittig!" at 12-year-old me from the sidelines in between muttered German curse words.

Incidentally, Wittig comes from the German word for "wood" or possibly the word for "clever"... although I was told as a kid that it meant "little wooden head."  I couldn't find any evidence of the "little wooden head" meaning on the internet, but I'm going to pass that quirky interpretation on to Cashel and the rest of my future children.

//End self-plagiarized portion//

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View from inside the Rock of Cashel

You may not like the name, but frankly we don't care.  When my dad told his neighbor my name ("Cason Jennings") after I was born, she told him that it sounded like a disease.  And I turned out pretty well... or at least none of my deficiencies can be blamed on my disease of a name.

We're just so happy that we finally have a son.  The one thing that is certain in all of this is that, as long as he stays with us, Cashel/Cash/TheBashMan/Ambrose/'Brose/the Rock/Señor Poopypants (or whatever you choose to call him - all of those are acceptable) will be one of the most loved children on earth.  Even though that means that those who love him might just be setting themselves up for heartbreak and pain.  It has been a long wait for this child, and and some points of life, we thought for sure that God had other children for us, but through many tears and heartbreak, we genuinely believe that God has a plan for us, and we hope that plan includes Cashel Ambrose. 

Thanks for your love, prayers, and support!

Cason

He love his mom!... or enjoys passing gas... probably a little of both