The Great Divide

My internet decided to pack up and delete this entire blog, which I just spent an hour writing. An hour I don't get very often. This is the truncated version.

Though we didn't know the gender of the baby until birth, Stephen and I had selected first names for both gender previous to the birth. The irony in this story is that choosing feminine names that we both like and agree on has never been an issue.

I discovered the name Esme long before I ever entertained the idea of becoming pregnant. I found the name in the death records at East London Cemetery, where I worked. I had seen it in Twilight but I didn't like it and, if I am honest, wasn't even sure how to pronounce it. It wasn't until I found it in the death records (how very funerial of me, I know!) that it started popping up everywhere and nudged its way into my heart. Stephen wasn't at all convinced. I would even say he was opposed. For nine months I referred to my "baby lump" as Esme and he eventually fell in love with it and agreed that it was her name.

Boy names are a nightmare for us. Noah was going to be Vaughan but I kept changing my mind because it didn't feel right. The fact that I was less than enthusiastic about having a boy probably didn't help the situation. We both liked the name Noah (despite its popularity and the fact that my mom has a cat with the same name), he was born and it seemed to fit him...end of story. He was our little Noah John.

Without knowing the gender of the baby, we managed to find name of each gender that we liked. A feat in itself.

Sloane (middle name TBD)

&

Everett James (or Everett Vaughan)

I was obsessed with the name Sloane. Everett took a while to come 'round to (thanks to the lovely city in which I was born) but I grew to love it and was content. I thought her name was a slam dunk. I had no idea there was a storm brewing that planned on trying to sink our ship.

A week before the baby was born, Stephen started expressing doubt about the name we had selected. He had received less than rave reviews and wanted to consider alternatives. I was heart broken. I adored the name Sloane and, more to the point, it had become her name (should she be a girl) throughout the course of the pregnancy. Esme called her Sloane and wouldn't even entertain the possibility that there was a brother in my tummy. The question "Esme, what if it is a brother?" was met with a resolute "What if it is a sister?!" To say this change of heart knocked me through a loop would be an understatement.

I understand that both of our opinions and feelings need to be considered when naming our child. I think the think that bothers me the most is the fact that I don't think the opinion was all his. While I agree that people liking the name you have chosen is nice, I don't place that much value in it. I think the most important thing is that the parents of the child in question agree on it. And we did agree on it and that agreement, for whatever reason, was snatched from me.

Stephen suggested the name Isla, a name we had discovered in the days before children whilst visiting the Isle of Arran in Scotland. It is a beautiful name. It also happens to be number 11 in the UK baby name charts and climbing. A quality that I find most irritating. Stephen has no issue whatsoever with the popularity of a name but I have always been bothered by it. Esme, a name that barely breaks the top 1000 in the USA, is top 100 in the UK. It drives me crazy. Noah is even more popular. I digress.

I agreed to consider Isla. It is a beautiful name and one that I once felt strongly about. In all honesty, I figured the sting of negative reaction would blow over and that Stephen would come back around to Sloane. I wasn't stressing. I toyed with other names that were on our middle name list (Hermione, Clementine, Henrietta) but never put much weight into the consideration. I was sure she would be Sloane.

On March 4th our beautiful little girl was born. Our little beauty with her reddish hair and her familiar little face. Everyone said I would know her name when she was born. And I did. Her name was Sloane and she was perfect. Just perfect.

But what do you do when the name you are so in love with is no longer a name you can consider? You try to compromise. And try I did. The night before she was a week old we decided to call her Isla. Everyone kept asking me what her name was and I felt guilty. Who has a one week old baby without a name? I agreed under duress. And I tried. I called her Isla for a week but slowly started avoiding her name and crying to myself as I fell asleep. Isla wasn't her name. We agreed to start from scratch but soon realized we were going to have a harder time than we ever imagined.

I fully admit that the reason I had a hard time, at first, is because I couldn't bear to give up on Sloane. How can you give up on something you are so passionate about? I knew her middle name would be Sloane if it couldn't be her first name. I am a stubborn broad and I have strong opinions. Unfortunately I married one of my own kind. Our talks slowly escalated into arguments and we went long stretches of time without discussing names at all. The interesting part is that there are a lot of names that we both like- it is just that I am not happy to give my baby my 48th choice. Names are important to me and worth fighting for. I was going to find a name that we both loved come hell or high water.

I spent hours begrudgingly scouring name websites, on the quest for an acceptable second choice name. And then I found one. It wasn't a name we had ever discussed before. It wasn't my favorite name, but it was cute enough and even had the name "Isla" in it. It seemed perfect. Delilah seemed like it might be the answer.

Now, in the name of full disclosure, I am not sure that Delilah would have been her name, no matter public opinion. I know now that she isn't a Delilah. The problem is that, once again, for reason of opinions not his own, Delilah was pushed aside. I like to think that I call a spade a spade - don't mince my words- whatever you want to call it. And I call it unfair. I think it is unfair to make a difficult decision any more difficult than it already is. I would never dream of telling someone not to name someone something (unless it was Brock Lee or something ;). I would give my opinion honestly but make it clear that the couple should name their child the name they think is best. Names are very personal and that is why they are so diverse. I may not like the names my friends and family have chosen..but they aren't my kids. A world full of Tom's could be very confusing. Come to think of it, I have three Uncle Toms. Yes, three. A little diversity wouldn't go amiss from time to time.

So we were back to square one. We stopped talking about names. I kept crying. I kept dreading the next time someone would ask me what her name was. When we did talk, it escalated into an argument.

And then it happened. I found a name that I loved as much, if not more, than Sloane. Sloane was a name I liked that became her name. This name jumped off the page and claimed her. It was perfect...what could go wrong?

I think you're starting to see a pattern here.

The name is Wren.

When I told Stephen the name, he was curious and cautiously optimistic. To him, it was a surname- a la Sir Christopher- and a bit obscure. To me, it was the perfect compromise. Off the radar yet very similar to Erin, a name that Stephen had expressed interest in. Erin is lovely but a bit too popular for my tastes and also the name of one of my cousins. Wren sounds familiar- it is the root of names like Renne and Renata- but has more character. It is unique without being weird and it sounds traditional even if it isn't. He wasn't sure.

I got to the point where I told stephen to name her whatever he wanted. And I meant it. I was mentally exhausted and couldn't take one more debate. He didn't want to make that decision alone, just as I wouldn't. He decided to take his time with Wren, deciding if he could live with it. He has been met with less than positive opinion, yet again, but it has grown on him. And I think it will continue to do so. I have had very positive reaction to the name. And while I have no question in my mind that it is her name, I know that Stephen does, if only because certain opinions sway him.

But here's the thing. My husband and I are solid. We are here for the long run. Hell, as much as I hate to say it, we are the friggin' Yankees. We are in it to win it. My husband loves me as much for my conviction as he does for my heart, as I do him. He sees me believe in something and he wants to believe it, too. We are a team and, if I had to choose any page on which to differ, I would choose the name page. Why? Because we are on the same page in almost every aspect of our lives. We are on the same page when it comes to the importance of our marriage. We are on the same page when it comes to how we want to raise or children. We are on the same page when it comes to our morals, our dreams, our goals. What's a little name when you're lucky enough to have all of that?

So, folks, here it is:

Wren Isla Juliet Bailey.

For today, anyway.


My little songbird. The fourth piece of my heart.