I was adamant I was going to have a boy. I don’t know why exactly, I just knew. So much for intuition – no-one was more surprised than me at my 18 week scan when it was revealed that my baby was very much a girl.
Of course I didn’t mind one bit, the only issue this turn of events created was what we were going to call her. There were a couple of boy’s names we both loved, the only girl’s names we liked however were either already taken by the children of friends or incredibly popular.
Regarding the above (and I guess, one of the conversation starters for this discussion post) I’m not sure what your nearest and dearest happen to have called their offspring or what is currently in the top one hundred should actually matter, but I do know that personally both were a consideration for us.
Then there is everyone’s ruddy opinion (my advice? – just don’t tell anyone your favourites) i.e. “Oh I used to know someone from school called XYZ and she was a right cow bag!” or “That was my second cousins’ next door neighbour’s aunt’s name, she was a miserable so and so!” etc etc etc
Nothing like a negative naming story to completely put you off something that was previously seemingly perfect.
Then there’s the whole “shortening” conundrum, i.e. what your little one will inevitably be referred to more often than their full registered title. So many beautiful names, so many not so lovely abbreviations.
And how about the age-appropriateness? What’s super cute for a very small person might apparently sound odd/peculiar on someone who is say… sixty. (I’d go as far as to say this particular concern is unfounded, every “name” has at any one point has been a newborn and collected their free bus pass.)
With regards worrying about what your wee one will think of your choice I’d say don’t bother, it goes without saying that your child at some stage of their life will detest their name and wish they had been blessed at birth with something they consider way cooler. I know I did. From about seven years of age to at least eleven I thought ‘Charlotte’ was unbelievably dull. I wanted to be called Debbie after Debbie McGee, all sequin leotards, fishnet tights and magic tricks.
It was my husband that mentioned Mabel before I was even expecting, he’d heard it on a television programme and we’d both commented on how pretty it was. Luckily he remembered the conversation and suggested it again when we couldn’t agree on anything. For us it was ideal, we didn’t know anyone else with the name and from what we could surmise this would make make her either “May” or “Belle” should anyone prefer to make it one syllable – both of which we liked.
Neither James or I told a soul. And the funniest thing was how many folks tried to guess, our parents in particular really wanted to know what we had in mind. I couldn’t understand why they just didn’t want at least some element of surprise, they were already aware of the sex after all.
Don’t get me wrong – we were aware that once she was born we very well might all of a sudden think Mabel didn’t suit, but nope, she was everything I had imagined and more. Whenever I look at her (which is let’s face it, all the time) I can’t imagine her being anything else other than my Mabel Rose.
I am very much aware as I’m sure are you that there is a growing trend for naming your baby after the place or location of conception, this could have been an option for us should we have run out of alternative ideas.
Yep, should our calculations be correct our daughter would have been called….Travelodge.
As always do share your thoughts in the comments section below.