You have doubled in size this week, and you are already the size of an apple seed. You are still a mass of cells with hardly any shape, but you already have the cells that make up the base of your brain.
Benjamin named you Beta.
Throughout our marriage, we have had silly discussions about baby names. They usually start with Benjamin asking me about baby names that I like. They usually end with me getting frustrated because Benjamin has digressed into suggesting outrageous names like “Shaniquaha” or “Camarindo.” He makes these things up on the spot every time.
But when it came time to decide the name you will have for the first nine months of your life, it was the easiest discussion ever. I asked Benjamin for short, cute, gender-less words we could call you until you arrive. I don’t remember the first few words he blurted out, but “Beta” was in the first five. I immediately loved it. Benjamin kept suggesting more words, but I knew “Beta” was the right one the minute he said it.
There are many ways the word is used in our culture, but this is the one that made us think of you: “Beta” is used to describe a computer program or website that has been released to the public, or a portion of the public, but isn’t yet complete. It needs users to test it out, and find ways for it to be improved before it becomes the “official” version. On the web, we might see an existing site, and next to their logo would be the word, “Beta.” It means they have things in development. They are trying something new. They have something new to share, but it is not fully ready yet.
I like this sentence I found on Wikipedia when searching to define “Beta”:
"The process of delivering a beta version to the users is called beta release and this is typically the first time that the software is available outside of the organization that developed it."
Your beta release is expected sometime in March of next year.
In the meantime, you have a name. You are being made ready, but you are not yet complete. You are not yet “available outside the organization that developed you.” My womb. Your home for such a short, long time.
Your release will be the best day ever. In the mean time, I am getting used to the idea that you are still here to stay. I have known about you for a week now. I am still hesitating, still holding myself back from happiness. Still hoping I get to keep you.
You are wanted, that is for sure. You have been wanted as long as I can remember. And every year that went by, I wanted you more.
Telling you the story of how our dear Lord Jesus made you come into existence, I must begin not too far from here, because this is what Jesus said about you many thousands of years ago, “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.” (Jeremiah 1:5)
