Pregnancy can be a very communal experience, but there’s one part that remains frighteningly solitary: picking the name. We can solicit all the feedback we want, but in the end, the responsibility lies entirely at our four feet. Which is why most people, especially those who’ve been through experience themselves, advise us not to see other people’s counsel. We’re the deciders; the calculus should start and ends with what we want.
Our list has grown slowly and steadily over the last few months, though without a standout favorite shared between us. I’ve got my top choice, and Sarah has hers, but neither of us is completely sold on the other’s. And yet from that short list of eight or so names, I think we could both live with any one. They’re all A-level; it’s just that none has yet garnered the A+ that will put it over the top. Is it terrible we’re already are expecting perfection from this kid?
On Saturday we dined at the Noonans’ and over dinner they grilled about the list. We were steadfast in our secrecy — for about 5 minutes. We are fully aware by now of the caveats in revealing name preferences, but they were relentless, and the scotch was flowing, and they broken us down. So as to not tip our hand too flagrantly, we cloaked our favorites among a larger list of B-levels. We’ve got tough skin, but we know how easy it is for outside influence to seep in and affect preferences. With four kids of their own, they knew to be supportive of anything we threw out there. They also added a few new options, though I can say for certain we’re not naming this boy Javi.
The scotch has since worn off, so you’re not getting any inside information here. I know, this post would so much more interesting if I just revealed one or two. Sorry, ain’t going to happen. However, I can tell you one that won’t be on there, anymore…
Perquackey got another second cousin last week — his twelfth of fourteen that will be born before his due date in June. (This is striking in that he still has no first cousins, though both of his parents are the oldest, so I guess that makes sense.) We had a very strong suspicion, going into the bris on Sunday, that the new kid would be given a name straight from our list. We were basing this on more than simply cruel irony — the parents have a penchant for slightly offbeat Semitic names, and there are a few of those on our list. As the rabbi blessed the baby and announced his name — Asa — Sarah and I gave each other a bittersweet look and silently plucked it off the list.
We’re okay with this. Anything that forces us to narrow the options down is ultimately a good thing.