Name Game

ETownDZ over at Goddess in Progress recently blogged about how she and her husband decided on the names of their twins, and she challenged other bloggers to share their stories. Ours isn't very thrilling, but here it is anyway.

Early on in the pregnancy, Steve and I had decided we wouldn't find out ahead of time if the baby was a boy or a girl. While the naming process would be much easier--we could eliminate a whole category!--we felt it took away from the mystique by knowing ahead of time. Plus if it was a girl, we didn't want to end up with a carload of pink or blue items at the shower. ;)

In her post, ETownDZ mentions some of her name-choosing criteria, several of which Steve and I tried to follow, too. Specifically, "Nothing in the top 10 for popularity the previous year," "Nothing that felt too 'trendy'" and "Straightforward spelling and pronunciation." We both preferred "old-fashioned" names, something that would carry a person from infancy to adulthood without ever seeming inappropriate. Steve works in retail, managing a toy store, and hears children's names all day long, so he had some pretty specific ideas of what he did and didn't want. (No Wolfgangs or Cheneys, thankyouverymuch. And yes, those are names of actual children, sadly enough.) And for Steve, a big one is that there would not, under any circumstances, be an SRB III.

Unfortunately, with us coming into parenthood late in the game, many of the names we did like had been used by family or were so popular (or variations thereof were so popular) we had to cross them off our list. Also, names I loved he disliked (August, for instance) and vice versa.

Some folks have issues with not wanting names that can be made into nicknames (Alexander becoming Alex), but that wasn't a problem for us. Some parents eliminate names because they think it will be a source of teasing for the child. Personally, I figure kids will always find something to tease other kids about, and their name is the least of my worries. Some parents worry about pronounciation and spelling and whether a name is TOO unique. While I'm not one for making up a funky name just because I can, I also don't think a name should be eliminated simply because someone else can't take the time to learn how to spell or pronounce it correctly. (And I say this as someone who's had to spell and repronounce their name their entire life. Whatever. Big whoop.)

So, that left us with about two names to choose from. Ha. Kidding.

We got the books from the library and perused name websites. I asked about names of relatives as far back as our moms and dads could remember. I thought about favorite books, TV shows and other pop culture references. Pretty much anything was a source of inspiration.

It was easy to find girls' names we liked, and eventually we settled on Alice. We were both happy with it and it met all of our completely ridiculous criteria. If I remember correctly, we'd chosen Anne for a middle name since it went well with Alice, and it's my middle name. Boys names were a different story, however. We just couldn't think of anything both of us were truly happy with. We tentatively decided on Jack Hilland (both are family names), which is a nice, sturdy boys name, even if Jack is a little overused these days. (And secretly, I was hoping for a girl because I liked Alice better than Jack!)

Then, one day, we were throwing out names just to be sure, and I mentioned Adeline. Steve wasn't too fond of it and suggested a shortened version, Adele. I loved it right away and it seemed like THE most beautiful name in the whole world. Somehow, Irene seemed to fit just perfectly with Adele and we had a middle name. (Irene was my Grandma Pontow's middle name, so we had a family connection which was something I liked too.) Both names were simply perfect in all ways: unique but not weird, interesting but not wacky, timeless and suitable for a girl of all ages.

And then Adele came too early. After she was born, when the room was full of activity and the doctors and nurses were all tending to her, I finally thought to ask if we'd had a boy or a girl. When I heard it was a girl, I thought "It's an Adele," and it seemed as if it was always meant to be that way.