When I was pregnant with my first born, I craved tomatoes. Daily. With my second, it was mac 'n' cheese and when I was carrying Shaye, I lusted after Italian salad dressing and anything drenched in it. With my last pregnancy, it was different. Food was hardly on my mind; instead, I craved a letter- K. I was obsessed with naming our last girl a name that started with the letter K. My name list read something like this:
I couldn't convince John though. Then I saw the name McKenna on a realty sign. I liked the name for the fact that I could call my littlest Micky, which is my best friend's nickname. I didn't particularly like the spelling though. About a month before I was due, I was at a wedding shower and was talking to a woman who had a daughter named (& spelt) Makenna. I started to get excited. After much doodling, I came up with M-A-C-K-E-N-N-A. The day she was born, John decided it was a perfect fit and our youngest daughter was named Mackenna Anne. I love the name and I also got my K- I called her Kenna for the first year and a half of her life. Unfortunately, due to the change in the spelling and our Boston accents- nobody calls her Micky- it's Mackie- which I love just as much. But not as much as I love this little girl.