What's in a name?

Anyone who's ever had to come up with a name, whether for a pet or a child or a website or a business, will know that it's a burden of responsibility. And with the due date of second child fast approaching I find myself yet again in a position of said responsibility. 

Now obviously I don't want to give my child a crap name. I don't want to give my child a name she hates, or feels doesn't suit her. I don't want to give my child a name that he has to spell out every time he identifies himself (with our names being Antony and Catherine, this is close to our hearts). And - although this one is kind of hard to police - I especially don't want to accidentally give my child a name that means something rather different in another language.

But I've also got some less obvious requirements of the name we choose. It has to be easy to pronounce phonetically, lest the child be a globe-trotting adventurer. It has to have an initial that is different from the rest of its immediate family, which rules out anything beginning with A, C and F. And ideally that initial has to be B, D, E or G in case it becomes a famous composer who wants to use the initials of its family members as a musical leitmotif in its magnum opus. (I'll go to H at a push).

But even having thought vaguely about this for nine months (more if you count the first child's gestation), we don't have a definite name yet. And in about a month's time there will be a baby. And we have six weeks after the baby's arrival to register its birth, which necessitates a name. Oh, there are names we like, there are names which are lovely, but I have this niggling feeling that there's the perfect name out there and we JUST HAVEN'T THOUGHT OF IT YET. 

First time around, the stars collided. Frederick was the name of husband's great-uncle, which meant family were happy with our choice - but it also happened to be the name of the swoonsome lead male character in Philip Pullman's Sally Lockhart books, who I had a bit of a crush on. That was easy. But no other swashbuckling hero has made himself known to me recently, and our literary input has dwindled to the Evening Standard, the occasional Heat magazine and the BBC Six O'Clock News, which means the options are pretty much reduced to Boris, Harrystyles or George Alagiah. Not good.

I'm all for something out of the ordinary. We've looked for inspiration to Shakespeare, kings of England and Thomas the Tank Engine; we've considered everything from Athelstan to Percy. The musical world is an obvious place to look for unusual and not-so-unusual delights, but Sergei (Prokofiev) is apparently vetoed, despite the fact the child may yet arrive on the 60th anniversary of the composer's death. (Which also happens to be the 60th anniversary of Stalin's death, but I'm not so cool with the idea of naming a child after him). I'm quite annoyed that popstress Dido is about to make her comeback because Dido was on my list of cool, criteria-fitting names, but I can't be seen to name my child after Britain's most bland singer-songwriter even if it's not true. If I'm going to name a child after any singer it'll be Thom Yorke, but then my child will be called Thomas Cook and let's face it, if you're going to face a lifetime of being teased for having the same name as a brand, that's probably not the one.

And here we are, weeks from decision time, with a list of names that looks pretty woeful. So please, if you can throw some inspiration our way, we'd be mighty obliged. Otherwise, we might end up with a child named Toyota MR2, and that would be a sad day.

Doing it differently

For the second time, I am 37 weeks with child.

When this sprog drops, clearly some things will be the same as for Fred, my first. Like the fact that it will sleep in the same bed as the rest of the family, and the fact that when it comes to weaning, I can't be bothered with Annabel Karmel puree recipes so I'll probably just give it a stick of broccoli to wave ineffectually. And some things are already the same: the fact that we haven't found out if it's a boy or a girl, for example (yes, this child's technical apparatus will be shrouded in mystery until the day it finally breezes into our lives).

Having said that, there are some things I am absolutely doing differently this time round, having done about a million times more preparation and reading than I did in my first pregnancy.

Firstly, I hired me an independent midwife. This gives me continuity of care from antenatal appointments, through labour and birth, and postnatal care. I know that (barring her illness) the midwife who delivers my baby will be the same person I've formed a relationship with over the past 7 months - not whoever happens to be on the shift in the maternity ward. It also allows me much, much more time with her (hour-long appointments, in my own home, on my own sofa!) to discuss the various choices surrounding labour and birth, and to make informed decisions based on statistical evidence. So far, this hands down beats the 20-minute NHS appointments I had in my first pregnancy where I'd have four or five measurements taken, a couple of perfunctory questions about my general wellbeing, and be sent on my way with a cheery wave.

Secondly, I decided to have as few scans as possible. Some people decline all scans because of the possibility that ultrasound carries dangers to the unborn baby. I don't know about that, but I figured that the point of the 12-week scan is to get a date, and I knew my dates. At the 12-week scan you can also have the nuchal fold test to get a probability of Downs syndrome, but having a Downs baby wouldn't have made any difference to my going ahead with the pregnancy, so I didn't need that test. I did have a 20-week scan, mainly just to make sure I definitely was preggers, because I had virtually no symptoms, but that was it. 

Thirdly, I'm planning a home birth. Statistics show that hospital births end up in an increased likelihood of (sometimes unnecessary) interventions like forceps and ventouse and Caesarean deliveries. Been there, done that, don't fancy it again thanks. I'm pretty confident that my fabulous, wobbly booty is capable of birthing a baby without a doctor telling me how to do it. I'm also planning not to have any pain relief, mainly because none is provided, but also because I've been reading up on and practising other ways to overcome the pain (including positions - ie not lying on my back - breathing techniques, and lots of YouTube videos of cats and Vic and Bob, because laughter is apparently an analgesic). And if anything goes wrong I trust my midwife to tell me that actually we do need to go to hospital now, and I can be there in 7 minutes.

Fourthly, not a drop of formula is going to pass my new baby's lips. I will have faith that if the baby wants to feed for 5 hours straight on its first night out (as happened first time around), it's getting what it needs whether that's food or comfort. I don't intend to pay for a product that my body makes for free.

And fifthly, having used disposable nappies first time round, this time I'm going cloth. Furthermore - and this is a real step into the unknown - I'm planning to EC. EC stands for elimination communication, also known as infant potty training, and it's a way of understanding your baby's cues for when it needs a wee or a poo. You end up using fewer nappies because you're getting everything straight into the loo from the word go, you have fewer moments of 'what on earth are you crying for now' and you end up with a toddler who's out of nappies much earlier than the norm. Quite frankly, it's a wee-wee win-win. 

So there are my five Things To Do Differently Second Time Around. Yeah, I think it's going to be fun.