[I looked back through some entries on naming him, and boy, do they bother me – although I still hold the point I made in them. It’s *how* I made the point and my animosity that bugged. To be honest maybe I might not abridge a private history – but this is the web. I’m re-writing this without the heckles.]
[April 30]
Why didn’t I think before of buying “The Mother of All Baby Name Books” and then later returning it for a full refund? That would remove a huge bottleneck of driving to Barnes and Noble. I’ll be settled on a final name for baby very soon.
My brother informs me that Baby’s long proposed name is now his name. And my response was extreme peevishness. My thing: I said from the outset I wasn’t settled on a name and it bothers me that others settle on it and then inform me it is just so. I see no compulsion other than a cultural one to decide straightway, though religiously I see that blessings invoke names, and every baby in Israel needs blessing. Baby’s soul is uncounted ages old and I want to take every care naming him [snip more peevish expressions].
No name rings well for me. Maybe the doubt is proof that no mortal name can really do justice to the sprit of any child of God, and I’d best hope that God calls on the baby by whatever name he was called before he came here.
[May 1st]
I ask Baby if he likes the proposed name. He hiccups a few times and responds with a smile: ””Yeeeeaaaooh.””, which sounds for all the world like Adamic for “Yes” or mangled English; either way, that seems like a sign, and I feel cursed for seeking one.
So it’s settled.
Unless I change my mind. I do have to finish reading the [name] book I bought before returning it, anyway.
[May 2nd]
Baby has various names, and so he hasn’t flinched (as someone said) at namelessness. He is “Baby”, “Thumper”, “Bug”, and “Fuss-fuss”.
I wish that our culture like others varied even with official names for a child, or added or changed them easily, or encouraged children to name themselves when they are older.
It bothers me that culture is too strong to accept my initial and oft repeated trepidation with naming. He was given a name for the hospital but documents can be changed.
He likes his various names.
Folks have asked: does Tia like the nonexistence of an official name? I asked her and it’s as I thought: it slightly bothers her, and also she respects my indecision.
[snip something I like not to post here, though I think it funny.]
Returning to the babe, the name is the first gift of contrivance to someone unable to contrive himself. If I do it “wrong”, he’ll suffer. But a mortal name is a paradox: while it is a mortal, finite, imperfect measure, it becomes part of your eternal identity.
[Retrospect April 28th, 2006: Recalling A WIZARD OF EARTHSEA (one of my favorite books), I’ve come to wonder if there is not truth to the idea of an eternal, primeaval name that bears all power on an individual. I wonder if God doesn’t have one for each of us.
Which is why I think God must have a sense of humor to allow some of the.. names that I don’t like.. to be given to His Children. And my whole flipping problem was that I was trying to find the immortal, perfect name for Mago. In all seriousness, the only comfort that let me let go of my naming angst was the thought that whatever I name him, it’s an imperfect name. And I recall a comment my brother posted which offended me and I took it down, I no longer can see why – it was hilarious and struck at the heart of the matter – in retort to my assertion that “Baby likes his name just fine”, my brother said “Maybe it’s because you named him Christ.” Ah ha ha, that is funny. And it makes me think: maybe the many Mexican folks who name their babies Jesus are really onto something – it’s among the only if not the only name divinely declared and ascribed.]