The week I found out I was pregnant, I was flipping through the pages of a baby name book every day. There were so many names...and I didn't even know the sex yet! I was getting ahead of myself and forgetting it's not my name to decide it's "ours". Dave and I talked about naming a boy after him, continue the tradition. But we wanted To break that mold, think outside the box. I 'Felt' like the baby was a girl, I was dead wrong, bur I focused on girl names. We decided after some time for a girl "Pennelope Rose", or Penny for short. And for a boy, "Jude", muddle name undecided. I liked the name Jude but wasn't in love with it. It was Dave's comformation name so at least it had meaning. Bur it didn't click still. Then the day before my birthday we found out he was a boy. Boy names starting enveloping every moment of my day. We went through many, Caleb, Clove, Jake, Milo, David, etc. One day while searching names I came across "Oliver". I fell in love with it. "Ollie" for short had my heart. But was it 'his' name? How would I know? Later that week I left for a week long vacation in Maine. After an exhausting car ride we finally arrived at our hotel. As my parents checked in, I sorted through brochures. Then like a lightning bolt, there it was..."Ollie's Trolley". Some brochure for a trolley service to Bar Harbor. It was a sign...an omen. That was the name, that was my sons name. His name was Oliver. Oliver Michael, after his grandfathers comformation name and nickname. His 2nd middle name is my maiden name which I hold dear, Eckhardt. I am the last 'Eckhardt' of my bloodline. Oliver may not have my name but he'll be able to carry it on. Now I know the truth worth of a name.