When I was about 6 weeks pregnant with Cooper, I had somewhat of a revelation that I felt was directly from God. I was at my girl's Monday night Bible study, and I read this verse silently to myself:
Yet you, Lord, are our Father.
We are the clay, you are the potter;
we are all the work of your hand.
It was in that moment that first and foremost, I knew it was a boy that was growing inside of me. I even leaned over to my friend and whispered, "it's a boy."
I just knew.
But I also believed at the time that this was further affirmation that we should go with the name we were already leaning towards--Clayton (Clay for short).
The other night, as I sat on the side of my bed, rocking Cooper to sleep, I stared up at all his wall art and reminisced on how only 8 weeks ago, I was looking at the same wall dreaming about what it would be like to hold him. I then remembered that night at Bible study and how even though the name Cooper is so perfect for him, we almost named him Clayton.
And my eyes welled with tears. His name wasn't meant to be Clay or Clayton. God was and is using this little boy to make me like clay in His hands.