What’s In a Name?

“Did you get to name them?” It’s a question we field often from curious onlookers. At first, it startled me.

What I didn’t understand is this is a very heated topic in the adoption conversation. Since Lydia’s birthmom wanted us to give her a name, we hadn’t thought anything of it. She was a clean slate: Lydia SueAnn. When it came to finalizing her adoption, the judge asked if we wanted to keep her name the same, to which we replied, “Of course! Why, do people change it?” He let out a side huff and replied, “You’d be surprised.”

Not understanding what he was saying that day, considering we were the ones that gave Lydia her name in the first place (singing a little song when she first came home to get her acclimated to it), we were left blissfully unaware. I hadn’t caught on that he was disgusted at the many adoptive parents that do change a child’s name after their adoption.

I understand this perspective for older kids. We would not have changed Daniel’s first name because he was already being called that since birth, for the first two years of his life, and we wanted to minimize any confusion for him. But for babies? Why should they keep their birth-given names? The very idea of it confused us.

“It’s part of who they are, where they come from,” the social worker explained to us as we looked to bring David home. For her healing and his, Laura had encouraged Shayla to name him at the hospital. But he’s our kid! What parent doesn’t get to name their own kid?! We were confused, and hurt that she was even asking us to consider it. “Well, at least think about it.”

We did. We thought about David growing up, hearing the story of his birth and the name he was given. In that moment, begrudgingly, it was decided. We had to honor Shayla and her decision for him, and part of that decision was his name. Born Criss Zealand Aroha, we named him David Christian.

Some might say that our effort was minimal and not sufficient. Maybe it was. It’s easy to see life from our own perspective, but quite a challenge to consider another’s. We wanted children, and wanted to name our children. To not be able to have the power to do so would have equated to another great loss. While only a part of his middle name, this was a big stretch for us, and only the first step of a long journey towards another’s way of understanding.

When we got the call for our third child, we were taken back by the name Noelle had chosen for him. Elijah was one of the names we were considering for a boy. That did it. He was destined to have the name, from his birth mom and then from us. We didn’t agree on his middle name. Noelle wanted to pass on a family name, and so did we.  Born Elijah Alexander, he was given the name Elijah Paul.

After we got the call that we were being considered by another birth mom we were excited. But at the same time we had to decide on a name. Girl names were always harder for us — either Paul or I didn’t like each other’s suggestions. “No, I knew someone with the name. She was mean.” By the time we settled on “Naomi” both of us were relieved. “Naomi Renee,” Paul said. “But we have to be ready to incorporate her birth name as well!” Not sure how that was going to work, we were glad we had at least settled on her first name.

Just as we thought she would, Pam asked over breakfast, “So what are you going to name her?” Paul quickly spoke, “Naomi Renee,” and I watched concern streak across Pam’s face. Quick to catch it, I quipped, “But we haven’t really decided. We’d like to include her birth name as well. What were you thinking?” Isabella Nicole. 

Paul and I wracked our brain for days. Neither of those names worked into our plan. We loved “Naomi” and we had to incorporate a family name somehow. “I don’t mind. It’s fine.” No, Paul wasn’t having it.  We just had to figure out something. 

He called me the next day during his recess break. “Renee! You wouldn’t believe what happened. Julia got out of her seat and came up to me in the middle of class!” This was not new news; Julia was always getting out of her seat, it was hard for her to sit still. “No, wait. Just listen. She came up to me and out of the blue she exclaimed, ‘Guess what, Mr. Longshore? I have two middle names!’ I said, that’s great, Julia, but you’re not supposed to be out of your seat. Go sit down.” 

In that moment, we both knew our dilemma had been resolved by a child who had a blatant disregard of rules when they didn’t suit her. Much to our chagrin, she was the one who figured it out, even though she had no idea what she had just done. Being of Italian heritage, the long name suited Pam just fine. Given the name Isabella Nicole at birth, we named her Naomi Isabella Renee.

And now, looking back, I am glad we got to name our children, and I’m also thankful we eventually had  sense enough to honor their birth moms. If I had to do it over again, I would have given more with Shayla and David. But that is how things seem to go; in hindsight, things are always more clear. I hope in moving forward, recognizing my own shortcomings, I could help someone consider their own position, motivations, and look at something with new perspective.