What's in a Name?

For some reason, choosing a boys’ name seems harder than choosing a girls’ name. Perhaps that’s just because it’s been so long since we picked Sakura’s name, that I don’t remember how hard it was. We absolutely love Sakura’s name. It is just the right combination of original, beautiful, and traditional. It makes her stand out without being weird and it has meaning that ties her to her ancestors. Now how can we give our son a name just as perfect for him? With choosing a girls’ name, it was more about trying to pick only 2 names instead of 20. With a boy, nothing seems just right. Names are too weird, too common, or one of us just doesn’t like it. Sakura’s name ties her to both my and Chad’s fathers’ families. We’d like our son's name to tie him to our mothers’ families. Only problem is, it can’t. It’s a long tradition on both sides to give the first son the mother’s maiden name as his middle name- in my case, Vidinha. Chad and I are both in complete agreement about doing it, and we both really like it. But that means we only get one name. And since my mother’s family is mostly German and Chad’s mother’s family is Lebanese, there really aren’t going to be any cross-over names. But I think we’ve finally decided it would be nice to do a Lebanese name for our son. Of course, being an Arabic country, most of the names sound like terrorists. No good. So if we want to do it, the names (at least from Chad’s family) will have to be of Old Testament origin. Chad’s grandfather is Moses and he has a great-uncle of some kind named Solomon. So maybe our son will be Solomon. Chad’s only hang-up with it is a nickname. He doesn’t like Sol or Solly. But we didn’t have anything for Sakura either, and now we call her Suki and love it, so I’m not so opposed. But Chad's favorite is Seth - another OT name, just not one of a known Lebanese ancestor. So impasse? Back to the drawing board? Guess we'll see what happens. In the mean time, here's a piece of advice on naming your child from Teresa Bloomingdale's book "I Should Have Seen it Coming when the Rabbit Died:"

Every parent has a favorite name picked out for a son or daughter, but if you are wise you will keep it a secret till the baby is born or, better yet, till baby is christened. Never name a baby you haven't met; the fact is, you may not get the baby you thought you were going to get.
This happened to us in 1958 when our third child was born. We had chosen the name James for a boy, and Mary for a girl. The morning our baby son was born, my husband came into my hospital room and said:
"I've got some disturbing news for you, honey. That baby isn't Jimmy."
"Well it certainly isn't Mary!" I said. "What do you mean: 'It isn't Jimmy'?"
"Wait til the nurse brings the baby," he replied, "and you'll see what I mean." A few moments later, the nurse brought our baby, and sure enough, he wasn't Jimmy.
"You're right," I told my husband as I cuddled our perfect baby boy. "This is a beautiful baby, but it isn't our Jim."
"Are you inferring that this isn't your baby?" the nurse asked haughtily. "This hospital does not make mistakes."
"We know that," explained my husband. "We just said this baby isn't Jimmy. Look at him! He doesn't even look like Jimmy!"
The nurse backed hastily out of the room, to report me, I suppose, to the staff psychiastrist.
"If this isn't Jimmy," I said to my husband, "who is he? There's no question about the fact that he is ours; just look at him!" I laughed as I held the baby up for his father's inspection. The baby, like his brothers before him, and his brothers and sisters to follow, was the spitting image of his father. (And isn't that a shame, when they have such a lovely mother?)
"Let me think about it," my husband said as he kissed me goodbye. "I'll see you tomorrow."
The next morning he bounded into my hospital room, excited and somewhat relieved.
"I stopped by the nursery," he said, "and I recognized our baby immediately. He's Michael!" And of course he was Michael; still is in fact. I don't know why we didn't recognize him immediately; he looked just like Michael. I'm certainly glad we didn't try to name him Jim; for 12 months later, Jim was born. Wouldn't it have been awful if we had given his name to someone else?

She has more to say on the subject, but I will dole it out a little at a time, as it is quite a lot... but so much fun! :)