When Hal and I finally decided on the first name of our unborn baby girl, I was relieved. Especially because the name was my idea, and wasn't something Hal (or anyone else for that matter) would have figured to be a name at all. The name grew on him like a weed and pretty soon, there wasn't a doubt in either of our minds that it was the right name. It felt right much like Archer did. Her middle name? Well, that's a whole 'notha story.
There were two middle names I loved. Two middle names that I felt fit with the first name we decided on. Two middle names to honor two people I adored.
"Two middle names? No way! She's not having two middle names!"
"But YES! She has to! It sounds so pretty! And the names totally flow!"
"NO! Archer only has one middle name! Everyone only has ONE middle name."
"Nu-uh. Lots of people have two middle names. OR TEN! It doesn't even matter anyway what everyone is doing. Jesus, Hal. What are you, some kind of lemming?"
"Two middle names sounds pretentious."
"Classic, you mean. Elegant and classic."
"You're insane."
"Pleeeeeeeaaaaseeeeee???"
"No! You already chose the first name! No."
"What? You LOVE the first name as much as I do! And besides, you get to give her YOUR last name. I should get to control what happens with the middle..."
"What? Are you seriously being serious right now?"
"Very seriously serious. Either I choose the middle names or she's a Woolf. The boys in the family can have your name and the girls can have mine. The end..."
"No! That's stupid!"
"Fine. Then I get my two middle names. Thank you and goodnight."
We didn't talk about the middle name situation for a good week before one night when I woke up in the wee hours of the morn, mid-dream. In my dream our child was born without a middle name and subsequently, without a face.

"Hal, Pssssst... Wake up!"
"What? What?"
"Please can she have two middle names?"
"Fine. Whatever. I'm not happy but I seem to have no say in this anyway, so, whatever. Congratulations, Bec. You win. Goodnight."
After that, I couldn't sleep. I wasn't being fair, I realized. I had spent the past week or two trying to talk my husband into middle-naming our child something he didn't like. I was being pushy and selfish and, yes, annoying. I inched my way over to Hal who was sleeping with his back to me.
"Goodnight," I said guiltily.
He grunted back at me in his sleep.
The next day I sat my husband down and apologized-- in my way. I told him that maybe he was right about the two middle name thing being too much, even though I was a little bit sad.
"I am willing to compromise," I said.
"So am I," Hal said, before choosing our daughter's only middle name from my top-five short list.
A compromise, indeed.
And one that made us both happy.
***