Sometimes, I will read the ‘daily prompt’ and decide it is completely irrelevant and go looking for something else to write about. Other times, I will know what I would like to write and just go for it. Today however, the prompt made my heart skip a beat and think about whether I really should post what I am about to write. However, I have decided, as what happened has been retold many times over the last thirty years, and as long as I don’t share personal details, I think my parents will be okay with it.

Today’s prompt is as follows:

Write about your first name: Are you named after someone or something? Are there any stories or associations attached to it? If you had the choice, would you rename yourself?

Originally, the plan was to name me after my Dad’s Grandmother Louisa, or perhaps, to shorten it to Louise; I can’t remember which. However, nothing went to plan, as my mother was taken ill 3 months before I was due. My heartbeat was dropping so they had to get me into this world, even though survival at that stay of gestation was almost unheard of 30 years ago. I was born on the 18th of April and rushed to the special care baby unit.

Both my mother and I were on life support and very ill. Three times while my mother was ill, she told my Dad what my name should be: Jacqueline. My Dad went and registered my name after this, as he thought my Mum had asked. Much to his surprise, when my Mum woke, she couldn’t remember anything about this, and did not know how i had got my name. Their only conclusion? My name must have come from God.

To this day, I do not really know why God gave me my name, although someone once suggested it may have been because I am an original, and to name me after someone else would not have made me unique. Perhaps there is some truth in that I don’t know. I do know that I once hurt my Mum very much because i told her I didn’t like my name. This is something I very much regret. My Gran once brought me a framed picture of my name, drawn/written in calligraphy, from her holidays. That picture lived in a cupboard for a few years while I did the teenage thing of throwing a strop; in my case over my name. However, when my parents were organising their belongings in time for moving house last year, I asked them if they could bring the picture with them and hang it up on the wall for me. I don’t know if they were surprised or not. Now, I rather like the idea of having a name no one else in my family has. Additionally, no one else out there who is also called Jacqueline will have be given their name the way I was given mine. It makes me feel loved, and special. Though I once would have changed it, now, no way!!