My husband likes all the traditional “top 10 names for girls” like Sophie and Isabella, which I know are popular for a reason, because they’re very beautiful sounding, but to me are unoriginal and boring.
But maybe you’ll agree with him that my picks are the awful ones. See, I’m pushing for a boy’s name for her like James, which I think is cool and chic and my husband thinks is child abuse.
My other favourite is Vivienne, Vivi for short, which I thought was very cute, French and elegant, and he says sounds like a bleached-haired chain-smoker.
I just can’t name her something that four other girls in her class are going to be called. I don’t want her to be “Ava D”.
Thirty years ago, after tossing up between the names Tuesday (what?) and Willow (which would have been mortifying because I turned out to be very short and dumpy, not tall and ethereal), my parents settled on naming me Sinead.
Growing up there were never any other Sineads at school, because in 1992 mums were naming their babies normal things like Hannah and Annabelle, not after bald Irish singers. And apart from the excruciating days we would have a relief teacher reading the roll who would absolutely butcher the pronunciation, I liked my name. I like that people only have to say my first name and people still know who they’re talking about – like Beyonce or Cher.
Another name I love is Hara, which my husband cruelly says is “not a name, it’s just a noise”, like the sound if you had bronchitis and you were clearing your throat.
He thinks we should just wait until we meet her to choose, but as I’m planning on a scheduled C-section I don’t want to risk coming up with her name when I’m high as a kite on morphine, especially when I’m already suggesting insane names like Tigerlily when I’m sober.
There’s also the issue of our last name, Dye – which is awful and may as well be Death. And it’s so short and blunt that you really need a long, flowery name like Penelope to soften it. I actually love Penelope, Penny for short, so of course my husband hates it.
My stepsons, bless them, are also trying to help. But it’s very difficult trying to gently reject the suggestions of a 7 and 9-year-old without hurting their feelings. So far, they’ve offered up Enid and Gladys, which I’ve assured them are “sooo lovely!” Maybe for the next baby? If she is born 82?”
The only name we can all agree on right now is Ollie. It would technically be short for my husband’s pick Olivia, but I would refuse to ever call her that because it’s way too common and, also, I did not like Olivia on the most recent season of Love Island. She always spoke through gritted teeth, and it was very strange.
But Ollie is a quite cute, boy-ish name that I can get on board with, so we’ve been calling her that for the last month. When she does flips in my tummy I call her Ollie-poly (like Roly-poly). I don’t really care about sharing her temporary name in this column because I’m so hormonal and mental that I’ll probably hate it by the end of the week.
And while I think most normal people don’t want unsolicited advice on their unborn child’s name, I would really love some. If you have any ideas for us, please message me on Instagram otherwise my daughter may end up being called Tigerlily and it will be your fault! Thank you.
