While riding in the ambulance on our way to the hospital I knew that 'Hope' would be in her name. Whether it was her first name or last I didn't care...I just knew that Hope had to be there. I don't know why I thought of Hope and not Faith, because God knows we were going to need even more of that. But Hope it was...
The doctors had told us that the survival rate for a 22 weeker was less then 10%. The chance of her surviving the night was doubtful. When I finally got to my room all I could think about was that she was not going to die without a name. We were so sure that we were going to have a boy that we didn't even consider girl names. So Robin and I talked about names that we liked and finally settled on one. In the early morning hours I filled out her birth certificate and made it official. Our precious, tiny baby had a name...
Bryttaney Hope
It wasn't until a few weeks later that someone finally said to me...'You do realize that you spelled Bryttaney wrong...' I didn't realize that. I honestly thought that was how it was spelled.
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