Leah ~ Lía
I named my daughter Leah because of a song I heard decades ago called Lía (verb ). In Spanish, lía carries the idea of binding together, of lives becoming intertwined. I wasn’t looking for symbolism. I just knew that the word never left me.

I named my child after an action. “lía” corresponds to the third person singular (he, she, you formal) in the present tense, or to the second person singular of the imperative. The conjugation in the third person:

• tú (you): lías

• él (he), ella (she), usted (you): lía

The word stayed with me for decades.

Looking back, I can’t help but wonder if Leah was already making her way to me long before I ever knew she would exist. It’s as if her name arrived first, quietly taking root in my heart, waiting for the day I would finally hear her voice and hold her in my arms.

Now that meaning reaches me differently.

A mother and her child don’t simply love each other. They become woven into one another. My body remembers her before my mind has a chance to catch up.

That kind of bond isn’t created by words. It exists beyond explanation.

Maybe that’s why the name never left me. Maybe Lía was never just a beautiful sound. Maybe it was a quiet promise of what our lives would become.

She was intertwined with me before she was born. She is intertwined with me still.

Some bonds are not measured by time or presence. They become part of who you are.

Leah was never just my daughter. She became part of my soul long before I knew she was coming, and she will remain part of it for as long as mine continues to exist.

She was intertwined with me before she was born. She is intertwined with me still. Some bonds are not measured by time or presence.

Leah's Mother

Leah became part of my soul long before I knew she was coming, and she will remain part of it for as long as mine continues to exist.

My body remembers her before my mind has a chance to catch up. Lía was never just a beautiful sound—it was a promise of what our lives would become.