born on a Wednesday

 My middle name is Beatrice. 

And the fact that Beatrice means "bringer of joy" was the only thing that could console me when I found out that Rebecca means "tied, bound, or hung".

The lady who told me this was also named Rebecca, and she pretended to hang herself as she visually explained exactly what my name meant. I was truly traumatized. Especially when she next turned to my sweet little sister and, with a smile, told Kathryn that her name meant "pure".

A short time later, my older sister (whose pretty name meant "God's promise") informed me that I was  born on a Wednesday. After she read me this Mother Goose poem. She, of course, was born on a Monday.

On a Monday in March. Little sister was born on a Tuesday in October. And I was born in November, right on top of Thanksgiving. It was an emotional day when I realized that their birthstones were dazzling aquamarine and sparkling pink. And mine? A hideous gold/brown/tan stone that calls itself Yellow Topaz. On top of everything else, it seemed rather unfair. Especially with a grandmother who had a habit of giving birthstone jewelry...

But I had Beatrice. And somehow that made things better. Because my sisters may have had me beat in the first name meaning department. They had better birth days and better birth months. But, out of us three girlies, I had the best middle name.

And, to me, it is the most glamorous, beautiful name. I love that it is perfectly unique and timeless. I love that I was named after a dear friend of the family. And I love to picture my parents softly speaking it over me on the day I was born.

This "bound" Rebecca, born on a Wednesday in November, wouldn't be quite the same without Beatrice in the middle.

Today is "Middle Name Pride Day". What's your middle name? Are you proud of it?