Hi there!
My wonderful daughter is nearly two years old. Naming her was a terrible struggle, since my husband and I agreed on very few names and were not 100% sold on any of them. After an exhaustive name hunt which involved list after list after list, we had two names going into the hospital.
We named our little one Fiona.
I love the name Fiona. I really do. I often call her “Fae” or “Fiona Fae” as nicknames. The name has been universally well received, which is great. So what’s the issue?
Everywhere we go, we meet baby Fionas born the same year as my daughter. One in her baby gym class, another at story time, another born to a friend’s daughter, so on and so forth. It is the only repeat name in any class or playtime we’ve ever taken her to (which sounds crazy, I know, but is absolutely true). People tell us all the time how many baby Fionas they’ve met.
One of the requirements for both of us was that our daughter’s name not be too popular. I’m a Jennifer-called-Jenny born in 1985, so I know how annoying it can be. According to Social Security, Fiona was only ranked #197 in the US in 2013 (her birth year) and #209 in 2012. We knew it was steadily rising, but it was so low down the list that we weren’t worried about it.
Apparently, though, all those Fionas were born in our community. We live in suburban Chicago. A couple other parents who have a Fiona have also admitted their frustration.
I have to be honest: This has made me really, really regret my daughter’s name.
Our second choice name was Juno. We were going to use the nickname June sometimes. If I had it to do over again, I would absolutely name her that. My husband doesn’t think about it as much as I do, although he is extremely annoyed. I would never consider changing her name at this point, but I can’t figure out how to come to terms with my disappointment. I don’t ever want my daughter to know that I think her name was mistake, so I need to deal with it.
Should I just start calling her “Fae” full-time, and give up Fiona? Half of our family has embraced this, and half never use it. My husband doesn’t call her that, but I do all the time and we’ve never met another Fae (or Faye or Fay). Should I try to put a positive spin on the twin-names all over the place? Suck it up and get over myself? Tough love is okay. I just really need some advice.
I hope you have time to get back to me. I appreciate your blog so much.
Thank you for reading,
Jennifer
I do think it would be very frustrating, to deliberately choose a name for its low popularity, to consult all the right statistics and make a decision based on those numbers, and still find yourself thwarted. And even worse that you had another name you liked nearly as well which would NOT have resulted in these issues. (Though I think Juno would have had issues of its own.)
Well. It’s a pickle. Is there a chance you will move from the area at some point? If so, you may find your problems immediately solved.
Or you may find that the issue resolves as she gets older, even if you stay in the same area. In my mommy-and-baby class with my firstborn, there was another baby with my son’s name (AND the mother had almost the same name as mine!). In our childbirth preparation class, the leader’s son had the same name, and another couple in that class used the same name. And then Paul’s cousin had a baby and used the same name as a middle name. It felt as if the name were EVERYWHERE! But now it doesn’t feel that way: we’re not in touch with the childbirth instructor or any of the families from the classes, and Paul’s cousin’s child goes only by his first name, and we’ve encountered only one other child with the name in all our various circles. As your Fiona gets older and is involved in different activities, it may coincidentally be enough to remove most of the other Fionas from her circle. I mean, it’s not something to count on, but it may happen for you as it did for us.
Name interest/discussions also peter out a bit after the early stages. At the beginning, everyone is noticing the names of new babies and commenting on them; and other parents, fresh from their own naming struggles or in the midst of new ones, are eager to discuss the topic. Later, there still may be occasional comments (“Oh, that’s my niece’s name!”), but names are in general less interesting to almost everyone, and there is less talk about it. (My peers look at me a little funny when I ask how they chose their middle-school-aged children’s names, which is why I am so glad to have a name blog.)
I do think it works fine to openly regret the POPULARITY of her name, without regretting the name itself—and you may find dividing it like that gives you some comfort and helps you resolve some of the mental conflict. Another of my sons has a name that was in the low 30s nationally when we chose it, but turned out to be top 10 in our state that year. We run into the name a LOT. I’ve found it helpful to frame it this way: I don’t regret using the name, because it is definitely his name. I only regret that so many OTHER people used it! I still love the NAME.
When that same son was in preschool, there were two other boys (out of twelve total boys) with his name. I found that a bit galling: even a top ten name doesn’t typically need to be braced for THREE in a classroom! I asked him if he wanted to change to a name very similar to his name, which in fact sounded like his first name with our surname initial, which is what he was being called in class; people were already occasionally mistaking it for his name anyway. I use pseudonyms on the site, but it would be as if his name were Joe L., and I asked if he wanted to go by Joel instead. He declined, and said he liked being “one of the Joes,” and that made me feel better about the situation, too. (He’s still friends with those boys, and they still call themselves The Joes. “Hi, Joe!,” one says. “Hi, Joe!,” replies the other.) This, though, leads me to another option for your daughter: you could ask her later what she wants. Would she like to switch to Faye, or would she like to stick to Fiona?
Or I think your idea of calling her Faye exclusively starting now could be a very good plan. If the situation is driving you crazy and making you regret her name, and if you like the name Faye just as much, this is a great time to switch: if I’d started calling my son Joel back when he was two, my guess is that’s what he would have gone with from then on.
But if you don’t like the name Faye as much, if you’re ONLY changing because of the popularity of a name you note has been universally well-received, then it doesn’t feel worth it. I think Fiona is a wonderful name. I like the way it looks, I like the way it sounds, I like everything about it. I like the name Faye, too, but I wouldn’t trade: I like Fiona too much more than Faye for that to be a good deal, if all I’m getting out of it is a reduction in popularity. I think instead I’d go the direction my son went and see it as belonging to The Fiona Club. It’s a pretty great club to have membership in. I’D want to join.
Or, as you mention, there’s the Tough Love approach. These things just HAPPEN sometimes. Parents choose a name thinking it is simple to spell and pronounce, but to their surprise everyone seems to get it wrong. Or they like a common name but it’s too common, so they choose a less-common version of it, but then everyone mistakes it for the more common version anyway. Or they choose a name right before a royal couple chooses it. Or they choose a name that ends up being the name of a criminal in a big news story. Or they choose a name and everyone who hears it makes the same remark/joke/association (“Oh, like that movie?”). Or they choose a name that is soon being used as an example of what parents want to avoid (“One of the -adens”). Or they choose a name they think of as girl, but almost everyone assumes boy. In short: you’re not alone. You did the best you could with the information available to you, and it turned out not to work as hoped. You nevertheless chose a WONDERFUL name, a name you love, a name everyone else loves too. These things happen, and this time it happened to you, but it is a small and reasonable and common thing to have happen, and not too hard to suck up as far as suck-up-required things go.
If you want the love even tougher, you can use the method I think is absolutely unacceptable to EVER EVER EVER use on other people but can work if one uses it judiciously on oneself, which is to remind yourself of all the things that can go wrong with pregnancy and childbirth and infancy, and to think of what a small thing this is to go wrong by comparison. Use that one lightly: it’s a useful tool for perspective readjustment if you feel you could use some, but don’t go too far and start believing that if you don’t have The Worst Problem in the Whole World, that means you can’t be unhappy or disappointed, or can’t complain. ABSOLUTELY you can. Of COURSE you can. It is in fact the tagline on my main blog: “I acknowledge my luckiness, without giving up my claim to the suckiness.” This is supposed to be a tool to make yourself feel BETTER, not WORSE, and to help yourself shake the bad feelings you’d rather not have about the name, so if it isn’t working that way I’d go right back to the gentler approach.