All About Oliver

Several years ago (eleven, it was eleven years ago) Shayla and I were married. Somewhere along the way we decided that four kids was the ideal number to have. Max came along as number one, followed a few years later by Isla. Wyatt brought the number of our children to three, and after that, it was only a matter of time before our family hit that magical number that we had decided on all those years ago.

This post is about how our fourth child came to be. Well, not exactly about how he came to be, as I'm sure you can figure out some of the more basic details, but rather about why he came to be at this time in our lives. Actually, it's probably not really about any of that, although it could be. Basically, I'm just going to post a few thoughts on this child and then at the end, if we feel like it, we can decide exactly what this post is about. Suffice to say it will be a post about a baby.

We had spaced the time between the births of our previous three children by using precise mathematical equations. Because that's how we roll. We are precisely mathematical. Max was born at such a time that he would start kindergarten at the age of five, in the year 2012. Isla was born just over two years later in the spring of 2009, meaning that she would enter kindergarten in the year 2014. Wyatt followed suit, with his birthdate ensuring that he would start kindergarten in 2016.  If you look at those numbers close enough (although it shouldn't take all that much thought, really), you can see that each of our three children will start school on even years, making for one grade level between each of them. When Wyatt is in first grade, Isla will be in third, and Max will be in fifth. They are all evenly spaced.

This meant that if our fourth child was to follow this pattern, the baby would need to be born no later than August 2013, so that the child would turn five no later than August 2018, and would be eligible to enter kindergarten in that same year. Thus, our children would continue the pattern that we had previously established.

So naturally, nine, ten, or eleven months ago, it came time to decide if we were going to follow this pattern, or let it go. Naturally, because we are precise mathematical-type people, we couldn't let it go. Those of you who know me from my high school days know that math was the only subject I excelled at (sarcasm here), and so it was predestined that our child would be born this summer.

Now, I'm going to spare you a few of the details here, and pretty much just fast-forward to the present. But let me just say that nine months should be plenty of time to decide on a name for such a well mathematically-planned out baby. And actually, it is enough time. It's plenty of time. Entire cities and countries have been named in less time. So of course, when nine months had expired and the time came for our baby's birth, we had a fine name selected to bestow upon him.

Well, actually let me back up a bit. Nine moths is plenty of time to think up a few names that you aren't really sure about, whittle them down to two that are pretty good and you'd think would pass for decent names, as long as nothing better came along. That's pretty much how it went for us. After all, we are precise mathematical people, not precise baby-naming people.

Shayla suggested the name Elliot several months into her pregnancy. I actually like the name a lot. I think it's a fine name and was stoked at the thought of me and little Eli hanging out at the local fishing pond and cruising around in the old school Jeep that I am sure to someday own. We never made that name selection final, however, so that left the door open for uncertainty, which allowed other naming options to creep in. Simon was another strong contender. It's a name we have always liked, and has been on our short-list of boy names ever since Max was born. Other options that were thrown up at one point or another included Owen, Nigel, George, and Giles. None of those ever carried any real steam, and just provided enough distraction to prevent us from making any of the options final. The first name was just a small part of the hurdle. The second part was the middle name. We were at more of a loss on this name than we were on the first! We at least decided that the middle name would come from my side of the family, as Wyatt's middle name is a tribute to Shayla's father, Dean. A name from my family seemed fitting, and probably was the only solid naming decision we made in the months prior to our child's birth. Middle name options we discussed included Richard, William, Thomas, George (again), Giles (again), and Oviatt. Strong contenders were Richard, William, and Oviatt.

When July 3rd arrived, and Shayla was scheduled for an induction, we were only slightly more certain of a name than we were at the midpoint of her pregnancy. We had thrown out all of the distracting filler names and settled on at least choosing either Elliot, or Simon. Probably going with Elliot Richard or Simon Oviatt. On the drive to the hospital, I tried to push Shayla toward choosing one of the names over the other. I was fine with both options, and Shayla was uncertain on either option.

As we drew closer to the hospital, I threw out the name Oliver. I'm not sure how it popped into my head, but it did. Not once had we mentioned it during the entire nine months. It's a name we have always liked, but never really considered, probably because one of my best friends from high school has a son named Oliver. I suggested Oliver Oviatt, joking that we could call him "Ollie Ovie", which to be honest, wasn't really much of a joke because I most certainly would have called him that. Shayla liked it. In fact, I think she said, "That's cute!" So I in turn said, "OK, that's it then. Oliver Oviatt". Naturally, because we are precise people, Shayla said, "No, but it's an option."

Adding Oliver to the mix effectively threw out Simon. It had been displaced by a name that seemed to fall from the sky. We spent the next several hours in the hospital, waiting through Shayla's labor and up until the birth of our baby boy without coming any closer to choosing a name for our son.

Our baby was born, and still no name. I'm sure we bounced the few options we had off him as we held him, hoping that something would magically stick. Ever since I became a dad I've believed that children should just be born with name tags, simplifying the whole naming process. I love all of our children's names, but would have been just fine calling Wyatt, "Gefilte Fish", if that had been the name scrawled on his tag when he was born.

The day ended, and still no name for our fourth child. By this point however, we were pretty sure that we would call him Oliver. We both liked it, and although Elliot was also a great name, it just didn't seem to suit our baby boy. Our other three children came to the hospital that night to meet their new brother, and when we suggested the name to them it was met with derision. I can't blame them for not liking it, we had never even discussed it with them. Isla wanted his name to be Elliot, and Max said Oliver was a weird name and decided instead to call him Jay. Wyatt just tried to keep his distance from the baby, as I don't think he really knew what to think of him, much less his name.

However, the more we said the name, the more we liked it. When the time came to fill out his birth certificate form, Oliver was pretty much set. Now we just needed a middle name. Oviatt was out by this point (although I kinda really wanted to use the name, so that his initials would have been OOW, or WOO if reflected in a mirror, something that was sure to happen frequently thought his life) and so that left us with the few strong contenders left, Richard, William, and a newcomer, Lee. Shayla had recently pulled the name Lee from my dad's middle name and tossed it into the mix, displacing Oviatt. I think we were leaning heavily toward William or Richard, but then we wrote them all down on a piece of paper and decided that we liked Lee best. We filled out the form, "Oliver Lee Wells", and never looked back. We are both very happy with his name, and fortunately, our children are slowly coming around to it as well.

Now that you know the details behind why he was born during the summer of 2013 (because we are math people), and the details on selecting his name (because both his first and middle names pretty much just popped out from nowhere), I guess we can dive into the part that you all really came here for in the first place, his birth stats! Oliver was born at 2:57 pm on Wednesday July 3rd and weighed 8 lbs, 6 oz. at birth. He was 21 inches long. One side note of note, Oliver was born on the first Wednesday of the month. Max also was born on the first Wednesday of the month. Shayla was born on June 2nd, which, amazingly, was also the first Wednesday of the month. And, as crazy as it may seem, I was also born on the first Wednesday of the month. I think our family has a new lucky day! We are going to officially recognize the first Wednesday of the month as, "Wells Day", and only invite people who were born on the first Wednesday of the month to celebrate. Isla and Wyatt will have to create their own holiday.

As for Oliver, he is a good little baby and super cute. He was born with lots of dark brown hair (just like our other three children), and hardly makes a sound. He didn't really cry when he was born. He made a few sounds and a few half-attempts at a cry in the minutes right after delivery, but never really let out a full cry until the nurses were half-way through cleaning him off, wrapping his little bum in his first diaper, and pricking his heel with a needle. Even now, he really only cries when he's hungry or needs a diaper change, but quiets down really quickly once you pay attention to those needs. I hope he stays this way as our family could use a quiet child!

In summary, we are glad he's finally here, that he has a name, and that he will start school two years after Wyatt. And now. looking back, I guess we can say this post is all about Oliver.