This was my 5th trip to the hospital but this time was different. It was a Friday night and I was cooking the most amazing dinner, lobster and steak with mashed potatoes and asparagus. I’m not even sure why I remember that. Anyways, I had just finished cooking dinner when the cramps began. I knew something was wrong because I had never felt these before. I called the nurse on call and she told me that they were probably contractions and that I should time them. So I did. I timed them at being 30 minutes apart. I didn’t want to take any chances so I called my husband to rush home so that we could go to the hospital. I made sure that our bags were packed just in case this was it.

We got to the hospital and waited for about 2 hours before I was seen. I guess everybody waits until Friday night to have babies. Once I got into a room and hooked up to the monitors I found out that my contractions were actually 3 minutes apart. What the hell? I was not ready for a baby. We had no diapers, wipes, no baby stuff at all. Apparently I was having lots of little contractions that I couldn’t feel so that’s why my timing was off.

That night I was admitted to the hospital. I stayed for 7 days. Those 7 days were nerve wracking and boring and painstaking. At 29 weeks I was already 4cm dilated. I think the quiet time in the hospital did us a lot of good. Without all of the meds I would’ve never been able to keep Tristan in for another 5 weeks.

My sweet baby boy went without a name for 29 weeks. I was determined to name my son Caleb Josiah but my husband hated the name Caleb. It just didn’t sit well with him but it was my turn to pick a name since he got to choose Tatiana’s name. However, at 29 weeks I was admitted to the hospital again.

One day while we were sitting in the hospital watching HGTV, my husband goes “what about Tristan?” My first thought was that I really love that name. It had actually crossed my name a few times but I decided against it every time. What actually came out of my mouth when he said that was something along the lines of “why do you always have to pick the good names?” Of course I tried to take credit for it but he wasn’t having it. So we decided to go with Tristan and keep Josiah as a middle name. I honestly don’t think my husband even liked Josiah but I think he just went along with it to make me happy.

Now that Tristan is gone, the meanings of his name are much more significant than we knew when picking them. Tristan means tumult or outcry and is derived from the medieval tale “Tristan and Isolde.” If you’re not familiar with the story, Tristan was a Knight of the Round Table and the tragic hero of the tale. He is thought to be a Arthurian legend. So skip all the boring stuff, I always say that Tristan was named after a legend.

Josiah is a Hebrew name meaning Jehovah has healed. Ultimately this is what I think of every time I think of Tristan dying. I think of God healing my sweet baby boy so that he wouldn’t have to fight for his life and struggle to breathe every single day.

So if you ask me what Tristan’s name means, I will always tell you that it means “he’s a legend that God has healed.”