Marcel was born just over two years ago at the end of May.
After months and months of fighting over what her name would be, and after seeing her for the first time and realizing that she looked just like me and my family–and hardly like my wife or her family, at all–I let my wife pick her name. The wife might as well have something, right?
She picked the name “Marcel.”
I had hoped that we’d name her after my mother. I’m named after my dad. As a child, that I had gotten the name of the biggest, baddest dude in my life was always a source of strength for me. I wanted my daughter to have the benefit of that strength.
To get that strength, I would’ve also added my mother-in-law’s name or my wife’s name or my father-in-law’s last name. Moreover, whichever of those names that we chose could’ve been the first or middle name, I didn’t care, just so my daughter also got her grandmother’s name.
My wife, however, rejected all of that. She felt that family names cheat children out of their own identity and, more importantly, she felt that nine months of pregnancy entitled her to this opportunity to shop for a name. So we settled on Marcel Simone.
Don’t get me wrong. Marcel is a great name. (It’s the French version of “Marshall,” which means “warrior,” and is the masculine version of the French version of “Marshall”, which means “warrior”, because my daughter can have anything that a man can have.) And it fits her. She’s strong and exotic, just like “Marcel” sounds.
But she’s more than just strong and exotic and gorgeous and smart and fearless and charming and flirtatious and serious and determined. She’s also a hoot. Check out the picture. In this regard, the name “California”–where her mother and I met–would have been perfect cause anyone named after that populous state with lots of personalities would be just like my daughter.
January 23, 2008 at 7:43 pm
My husband is a wonderful man and, despite our differences on how the name should be chosen, I think our ultimate group decision was a good one. But I must comment on his extreme statement of my opinion of names. He incorrectly quotes me. I do not believe family names cheat children out of an identity.
I understand the real & symbolic importance they hold but I feet this was something you did to honor someone who had passed away.
In part, I just prefer less confusion, two people with the same name, in the same house, can be hard.
As to the statement “and she felt that nine months of pregnancy entitled her to this opportunity to shop for a name,” “entitled” and “shop” are two strong words and perhaps inflamatory in our marriage.
I was not entitled. I am not a person who feels entitled. Perhaps I had earned the opportunity. It was, however, a JOY that I looked forward to and I would have been sad to not have a part in devising a name for the child versus being handed one.
And what if the inherited name did not suit the child? Whether inherited or one based on our research, I wanted to meet my child before naming them. Upon meeting Marcel for the first time, her father had to admit that she was less suited for the clothes with small delicate flowers that we she wore home from the hospital and more suited, as her father said, for “black leather”.
Actually I did not feel like I was “shopping” for a name but continuing a tradition, perhaps. I have fond memories of my father telling me how they chose our names (triplets), the meaning behind each, historically and personally. I wanted my child to have a part of us, my husband and I, a part we devised together.
And by the way, I did agree (if we had a boy) the husband could give him one of his names.
He does have a beautiful name after all.