I can’t help but feel a tinge of sympathy for my daughter. Not for any reason related to her character, but simply because she’s the second child and has been dealt a less favorable hand since before her arrival.
Take, for example, the saga of how we settled on her name. When you’re expecting your first child, you have all the time in the world to lounge around with your partner, weighing the pros and cons of names from every baby name book you can find.
“How about Liam?” my husband, Jake, suggested.
“I knew a Liam who was a total brat. What about Noah?”
“Everyone’s using Noah. How about Ethan?”
“Absolutely not—there’s an Ethan in my past.”
And so it went until we finally agreed on Caleb. By the time I hit the 25-week mark, our firstborn had a name—no bad associations, no awkward memories, and definitely no embarrassing nicknames.
Fast forward to the arrival of our Little Princess. With her, we had no time for leisurely discussions or thoughtful name deliberations. Instead, our “conversations” consisted of sporadic text messages with name suggestions while we were busy with life.
This continued for nine months. When labor began, we were still without a name. When friends inquired, we assured them we had a few options but nothing definitive. We planned to wait until she was born, confident that we would just know the right name when we saw her.
That plan, unfortunately, didn’t pan out. Newborns, in all their squishy glory, resemble tiny, wrinkled old folks with squinty eyes. A fresh baby doesn’t scream “I’m a Sofia” or “I’m a Mia,” and certainly, our little one didn’t possess the attributes to support a name like Caleb or Noah.
Had it not been for the hospital staff nudging us every 20 minutes about formalizing a name for her birth certificate, we might still be debating. Sure, you could technically take an unnamed baby home, but the bureaucratic hassle to rename later? No thank you. Especially not for us seasoned parents.
So, there I was, instead of resting, frantically Googling “Jewish girl names.” After a grueling day of back-and-forth between the merits of Lena and Lulu, fatigue set in. I just wanted to go home, sleep in my own bed, and enjoy the free babysitting my mother-in-law promised.
The final decision was made in a moment of sheer exhaustion.
“Just choose a name already!” I exclaimed, near tears. “I’m too tired!”
“How about Lily?” Jake replied.
“Fine, whatever. At least it’s simple to spell. Now, let’s get the paperwork done so I can rest.”
I’m still uncertain if she truly embodies a Lily, but it is easy to write, and let’s face it, I was too tired to think of anything more imaginative.
In the end, naming a second child often feels like a rush job, especially when compared to the thoughtful process of naming the first. For more insights on pregnancy and home insemination, check out this excellent resource.
Summary: Naming a second child often turns into a hurried process, lacking the thoughtful deliberation that accompanied naming the first. Exhaustion and the pressure of hospital requirements can lead to less-than-perfect choices, highlighting the unique challenges faced by second-time parents.