Lunar Title

Ever since Jericho was born, Michael and I have gotten a ton of confused, head-tilted looks when we tell people his name. I get a lot of looks when his name is called during doctor visits. Most often we get the question, "How did that name come about?" I don't mind the questions, but I get irritated when people follow up the name question with, "Oh, like the TV show?" Yeah, 'cause we're just that shallow. Anyway, whenever I get asked my son's name, I always give the watered-down, short version. When in actuality, it has a much deeper, more personal meaning: When Michael was in Afghanistan, he missed the entire pregnancy except for the 5 days leading up to the birth and the two weeks after. We knew this would happen. When I went to the States in August last year, I was 16 weeks along, and I'd planned on getting a 3-D ultrasound and gender determination. Because Michael couldn't be with me during all the doctor visits and all the experiences surrounding pregnancy, we decided that we would find out the gender but keep it a secret. Being one of only two people in-the-know would be Michael's way of being included in the pregnancy. When we settled on a name, that would be a secret, too, until the baby was born. I only had two rules. It had to begin with J, and it had to be from the Bible. The rest was up to Michael. We wanted a name that had personal meaning to both of us. So he started his "research." One of the things that we love to do in our house is stand on our balcony and look at the sky; it's one of our nighttime rituals. Sometimes we get out the huge telescope he bought me during the deployment. He can instantly spot constellations; my eye isn't so well-trained. I am always amazed at the clarity of the craters in the moon. It's my favorite thing to look at. I've seen and wished on shooting stars (thank God some of those wishes never came true!), but there's nothing so permanent and promising as that big giant ball of cheese in the nighttime sky. That moon kept Michael and I connected while he was at war. It was disheartening knowing he wasn't with me, not even in the same country. But somehow, seeing that all-knowing moon glowing back at me, and knowing Michael was seeing that same moon was reassuring. I held onto that feeling for 15 long months, and sure enough, he came back home.

So the meaning and translation of the name Jericho: Arabic, "city of the moon."