So why Harper Cecilia?!
Ever since the day I knew Brian was "the one," I regularly forced him to discuss baby names. Muahahah. I liked this and he liked that and we didn't agree on much of anything, but for some reason we always referred to our future firstborn as "Charli." You know, Charli as a nickname for Charlotte [which would be her "official" full legal name].
After we got married, everything was suddenly all about Charli. "I can't wait til Charli can ride in a little buggy behind our bicycles!" "When Charli's here, she'll sit riiight here beside me at the dinner table!" "Do you think Charli will want to play with dolls or dirt bikes?" We eventually had to buy a house because "Charli can't live in this small apartment!" and then we had to paint the guest bedroom a certain color because "Charli will want this as her nursery some day!" and then we set aside a separate savings account because "Charli's college tuition will be expensive!" and then we wanted to go on a few vacations because "Charli won't want to visit here when she's a kid so we better go now!" and Charli this and Charli that and Charli everything and hooooooly run-on-sentence that my high school English teacher would totally stab my long-winded soul for. But anyway, we loved the name Charli and would probably never settle for anything less.
So if Charli was supposed to be our firstborn, then.....
WHY HARPER?!
Oh.
A couple summers ago, Brian had this "work conference" in San Diego. ["Work conference" in quotations, because there are a few hours of meetings each day and then several hours of golfing and cocktails and poolside chatting and extravagant dinners and and and annnnnnnd. But thumbs up for being spoiled by a great company, because we hospital slaves would never even dream of that treatment! ANYWAY.] When the Monday-Thursday business meetings were finished, I was going to fly out to meet him and we were going to extend the time there and make it into a little vacation of our own. As planned, I jumped an airplane to Cali on Thursday afternoon. After boarding, I found a quaint little seat on the aisle of the airplane and immediately pulled out my stash of books and magazines and Sudoku puzzles. [I used to be a social butterfly/extrovert, but for some reason after college I turned into a hard-shelled hermit. I would literally rather lick a lukewarm turd than have to strike up a conversation with a stranger sitting next to me!] The plane took off, and I quickly zoned into my book. But out of the corner of my eye, I kept noticing this little baby toddling up and down the aisle. She was maybe likeee...9-12ish months? Cute as a button, dressed beautifulllllly, just couldn't be a tad more perfect in appearance. Her mom was a few rows behind me, and I could tell she was one of those prissy moms with fake nails and perfect hair and high heels who was probably having a cow that her daughter was touching things in public [like omggg, germsss. Also, who wears mega high heels on an airplane when you're only traveling with a toddler?!]. I could tell she definitely didn't approve of her daughter roaming freely, but the baby was fussy and fussed even more when she was constrained to momma's lap, so momma let her walk. Every time the baby waddled by, she would stop by my seat and stare. And pretty soon, she started stopping by and touching my leg and holding her little stubby arms up like she wanted to be picked up. I glanced back at super-well-put-together Prissy Momma who just gave me a defeated shrug, so I picked her up. We played peek-a-boo and looked at pictures on my iPhone and she [literally] ripped through my magazines; then all the sudden, she was all nuzzled in and passssssed out in my arms. I kept turning around to see what Prissy Momma was thinking, and she seemed relieved and thrilled and flashed me a thumbs up. What is going on?! I have no idea, but I love babies so I wasn't complaining! When the airplane landed, I walked back and gently handed her off to Prissy Momma. Looking a tiny bit LESS frazzled than before, she said, "Thank you soooo much! I have no idea what got into Harper; she usually hates strangers." "Hah, well I do too, so I guess we're a match made in heaven! She's beautiful. Enjoy California! "
Harper.
I liked it. I liked it a lottttt.
As soon as I made it to the hotel, I met up with Brian and told him about the beautiful Baby Harper I made friends with. Neither one of us had ever heard the name before, but we both immediately loved it!
And just like that:
Hello, Harper! :)
OK, OK. BUT THEN, WHY CECILIA?!
...Well mostly because we're Catholic and we ain't never heard of no "Saint Harper."
The Church doesn't require us to name our kids after canonized saints, but..............why wouldn't we? And of courseeeee, Brian and I needed/wanted our precious Harper to also have a permanent baptismal name. What does that mean? It means we choose a special saint to be her lifelong patron; we choose a role model, exemplar, holy life for Harper to walk in the footsteps of. Even better, she will be able to use the same name/patron we choose now at her Confirmation years down the road.
And so we [obviously] chose Saint Cecilia!
...But not carelessly or randomly.
In the fall of 2008, I spent a semester abroad in Rome. The Eternal City was basically like Catholic Disney World, and my faith life grew and deepened and expanded and blossomed in ways I never even thought possible. It was during this semester that I came to know and love Saint Cecilia. She was a noble lady of Rome and eventually became one of the most popular Roman saints. She revealed her personal vow of virginity to her husband on their wedding night; she told him that the Lord would punish him if he violated her virginity but would love him if he could respect it. This eventually led to his conversion, baptism, and martyrdom. Saint Cecilia's incessant preaching converted hundreds to Catholicism as they quickly went to the pope to be baptized. I remember visiting the BEAUTIFUL Church of Saint Cecilia in Trestevere [a section of Rome]; the church was built right on the site of the house in which Saint Cecilia lived during the second century. It is also told that she was the first saint to be found incorrupt, and her remains/relics lie in the crypts of her church.
More importantly, Saint Cecilia is the patron saint of music [and musicians]. Prayers to her generally ask for God's blessings on musicians and the hymns they proclaim to Him. In growing up with a family rich in musical and instrumental background, I think this is extra appropriate! [Also, Harper already LOVES all types of music... Maybe it's a coincidence, or maybeeee Saint Cecilia is already actively guiding our babe!] Her feast day is November 22, and the Saint Cecilia music festival at our church is always celebrated on our anniversary weekend. Lovin' it!
The list goes on and on... Her purity. Her beauty. Her Roman roots. Her music. Her heart for God. Understandably, we could not think of any saint more unstained or wholly beautiful for our daughter to model herself after. <3
Oh, and it juuuust so turns out that Cecilia is also Brian's mom's middle name! I love that Harper and her grandma have this special connection! [Although she told us at the hospital that she spells her's "Cecelia" :).]
So...
Why why whyyyy Harper Cecilia?!
In a nutshell, that's why. :)
And some day when we all inherit the kingdom of God, mayyyybe Harper can be the little "harp-er" [or is it harpist?] in Saint Cecilia's eternal orchestra! I really actually totally love this idea and couldn't imagine anything more perfect. ;)
Happy baptism eve, sweet Harper! We are so excited to witness your first sacrament; we pray that tomorrow will be the first day of an eternity of days that you willl put on Christ and follow in the footsteps of your beautiful patron saint, Cecilia!
:-*
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