Seeing as I am about 99% sure the glow-worm is a girl, my time is better spent conjuring up a nice girl’s name, I figured.
We had, of course, already used up two of our possibilities, so I had to put on my thinking cap yet again. I still loved the name “Capucine” but my best friend Charlotte’s second daughter sports that name and inhabits it so entirely that I just can’t imagine any other child as “Capucine”.
I have always been in love with the name “Chimène’ since I read Corneille’s “Le Cid” during my first year over here in France (not understanding even half of it, but discovering I really dug the name of the heroine). Unfortunately Franck, while giving me rather free reign on the name front, has maintained a serious dislike of the name.
Moreover, the parents of a cheesy female singer with bad acne who emerged a while back from the French version of “American Idol” (known as “La Star Academie“) had the gall to name their daughter “Chimène”. I don’t think I have the patience to respond to all the people who will inevitably ask, “did you name your daughter after La Star Academie girl?” not to mention Franck’s inevitable “I told you so” looks.
Around my fifth month of pregnancy I had a brief love affair with the first name “Colette” but Franck’s out-the-blue choice for a second name for our potential daughter, “Agathe” (pronounced “a-gat”) didn’t have an accent. Besides, when I say it several times in a row “Colette Agathe” sounds a little heavy on the “T’s” to me.
So in the end we have gone back to the girl name we both agreed on in the early days of my pregnancy, “Clemèntine” (pronounced “Clem-on-teen”). I’m just hoping the other kids in school back in Canada aren’t going to treat her to rousing renditions of “My Darling Clementine”. But as in all other ways the name “Clemèntine Agathe” is perfect, that’s a risk we’re willing to take.
And the latest news flash after my last ob/gyn appointment today is that Clemèntine / Clovis, otherwise known as the “glow-worm” will be coming at least a day earlier than previously planned.
Things were all lined up (besides my courage, but I suppose nobody will be waiting on that) for my C-section to happen on January 24th (next Thursday). But just in case I had forgotten I was given a stiff reminder this morning that this baby is being born in FRANCE. When we got to the doctor’s office we found him hopping mad that a hospital strike had just been declared for that very same day, which really isn’t as much a coincidence as one would think considering the sheer number of strike days in France in any given year.
Ah, the joys of living in “l’hexagone” where presently our President Nicolas Sarkozy is far more interested in empregnating his girlfriend Carla Bruni than dealing with the unrest of the civil servants…
All in all, the French including me are finding Nicolas’ total disinterest in anything other than his love life very annoying.
So thanks to Carla Bruni and many thousands of peeved french civil servants it looks as though the glow-worm will be making his / her appearance on January 23rd (next Wednesday) instead. However, this is all contingent on no further strikes being announced, which as Clemèntine / Clovis will soon find out about their country of birth, is far from a sure thing.