Two weeks ago this Sunday, I gave birth to my fourth child — a third daughter. With all of our previous children, coming up with a name was easy. My oldest was named after his great-zayde, Shlomo Raphael.
When I was expecting my second, we spent the second half of the pregnancy worried that she was too little and that I did not have enough fluid to sustain the pregnancy. We told ourselves that if she was born healthy and full-term, we would name her accordingly. Netanya Temima (God gave us perfection, or an unblemished one) came into the world the night before her due date — healthy and full of life.