what's in a name?

the little big man migo asked me at breakfast today what his name means. 

when we chose his name a few days before he was born, it was because we thought it was just right for our very pinoy last name. his first name lorenzo is from the basilica of saint lorenzo ruiz in binondo where hubby and i were married.  his second name miguel, is from archangel michael.

before he was born, i was in labor for thirty-plus hours until my o.b. decided to cut me open because he might already be stressed inside my tummy and might have gulped down his own poop for staying there too long.  it turned out that he already did and had an infection when he was born so he had to stay in the hospital for a week.  i only vaguely remember now (thanks to the general anesthesia) but the next few days after that, he was stuck with needles not less than ten times.  for blood tests, for the dextrose which had to be removed and re-inserted several times and for the different skin tests they made him undergo.  once, one stupid intern even forgot the rubber band tied around his bicep.  we wondered why his arm was turning bluish until we realized it's been there under his shirt's sleeve for a couple of hours already.  and then there's that other intern who couldn't seem to find the right vein to insert the iv.  he would stick it in, pull it out, stick it in again, out again... it went on several times until our little baby was screaming his lungs out in utter pain.  i remember hubby and i stepped out of the room and cried while holding hands.  we so pitied our newborn son!  (in hindsight, i think, we held hands to keep ourselves from strangling that intern to death.)

then was when we realized the relevance of his name.  lorenzo was a filipino martyr who endured torture, one of which was wherein needles were inserted in his fingernails, just to keep his faith.  miguel the brave archangel is the commander of the army of God who slayed sat*n.  our little son was already emulating his namesakes early on in his life.

fast-forward more than seven years later.  here he was, sitting beside me by the breakfast table, asking me why we call him migo.  he has become a brave and enduring taekwondo player.  he has become a strong-willed and assertive student.  he has become a protective, sometimes mischievous, kuya to his little sister.  he has become our sometimes sweet, sometimes annoying, sometimes thoughtful, sometimes hard-headed son.

he has become what lorenzo miguel meant.  and so much more.