I was unnamed for a time, but I take great pleasure in being born a female. My mother had been told she was having a boy. My siblings all excited as the family consisted of two girls. The day came when I finally arrived, and the doctor replied, “It’s a girl”!
My mother has told this story numerous times. Her response, “I don’t care what it is as long as it’s out.” Keeping in mind she had just given birth so she was not being callous, just honest. We remained in the hospital for several days both experiencing challenges. Logic set in after sometime, and she of course had no girl names readily available.
As my mother thought of a name, she seeing the Bible, took it in her hands and flipped through the pages. After a few minutes, she turned to the book of Mark and looked at the name. She then added a few letters feminizing it, and called me “MarKesha”. This year, I gained the courage to ask the one question I was scared to be given the answer to. If she were disappointed that she had given birth to a daughter and not a son? My mother, looking back at me with a stern nod of her head, smiled, and said, “Not at all.”