The day that my mother some may have feared would never come has arrived: the baby factory is closed. I got a hormonal IUD put in this morning, and if everything they say is true, I shouldn’t have to think about birth control again for another five years. This is very good news, as I think it’s been quite definitively established that we’re not good at birth control.
We were in no way thinking about having another child, but I’d be lying if I said that I was positive that we were done. I can’t say what exactly changed that, but one day a few weeks ago I was driving along thinking about this and that, and suddenly I realized that our family really feels complete to me now. It honestly was that sort of instant clarity. Since then I’ve packed up and sent to the charity shop all of my maternity clothes and a not insignificant number of baby clothes, all without a hint of hesitation or regret. I’m just done with the baby-havin’ and it feels good.
There is one thing that makes me a little sad, and that’s knowing that I’ll never have a little boy to name Håkan. It must be said, however, that I know at least a couple of people out there are secretly delighted that I won’t have the opportunity to name more babies. There’s just no telling where I’d stop.
You have a beautiful family. I am curious to know if there is a meaning to Hakan. I know you had mentioned that Brynja meant something in Swedish (I don’t know why I’m thinking some sort of mesh metallic apparel?). Do the other kids’ names have literal translations into Swedish? I have heard of Lydia (of course) and Petra many times, but not so much on Tage and Yrsa.
Haha, yeah, I wouldn’t perhaps choose HΓ₯kan π
Thanks, Sarah. π
Håkan is an Old Norse name that probably means “high son.” The å has a long “o” sound, so it’s sort of like “Ho-kahn,” with the emphasis on the first syllable. Like Anna says, it probably wouldn’t be a first choice for many parents ( π ), but I really love it. I really like the Norse names, and the sound is usually more important to me than the meaning.
Brynja means chain-mail shirt, so you’re remembering right! It’s exceedingly uncommon as a name in Sweden, but rather ordinary in Iceland. Some sources connect Yrsa with “ursa,” giving it a bear meaning, but I prefer the meaning “giddy or wild one” (yr means “giddy”–or dizzy–in Swedish). Actually, the meaning of both of these names is part of the reason we went with them.
Tage is originally a Danish name that comes from the word “to take” (“taga” in Swedish). It could mean one who receives or takes over something, or also a guarantor. I first saw the name not long before I moved to Sweden when I encountered a story about the Swedish prime minister Tage Erlander, and I completely fell in love with it. It is easily my favorite boy name ever. π