We were up late talking about Baby names in the spring, when we first decided to, not only have a baby, but also to have one very very soon. I’ve probably mentioned that I never ever wanted children. Ever. And Mrs. P knew all about it, before we ever got engaged or married or very married. (I think she knew I’d change my mind, though she denies it.) Anyway, we were up on a Tuesday night. Thinking of names in our living room. I think I might have been standing because my hands were still trashed from my bike wreck, and I was idle too often.
We had liked Magdalena for a girl — Maggie for short. (See “The Simpsons” and its influence on our lives!) But Mrs. P felt like it was a little….odd. It’s heavy. Biblical in a super biblical way. Not that biblical is bad. My “real” name is John after all. But, you know her roll in the bible. Made me think of the A Perfect Circle Song, too, from Mer de Noms:
overcome by your moving temple
overcome by this holiest of altars
so pure, so rare
to witness such a lovely goddessi lost my self control
beyond compelled to throw this dollar down
before your holiest of altarsi’ll sell my soul, my self esteem
a dollar at a time for one chance, one kiss
one taste of you my magdalenai’ve beared witness to this place, this lair, so long forgotten
so pure, so rare, to witness such a lovely goddessand i’d sell my soul, my self-esteem
a dollar at a time for one chance, one kiss,
one taste of you my black madonnai’ll sell my soul, my self-esteem
a dollar at a timefor one taste, one taste
one taste of you my magdalena
Yeah, not sure if we wanted to name our daughter that, assuming we had a girl. If we had a boy, the name was easy. I’m a Junior, and my wife always liked the idea of a Johnny 3. I’d change my name legally to The Second because it sounds cool. I have a moderately bizarre middle name, which I’d rather not inflict on another person, but I think Mrs. P’s mind was made up.
Girls’ names: I’d always liked Vera, my paternal grandmother’s name, a woman I never met who died when my father was only 8 or 9. It means “truth.” Mrs. P didn’t like it. Or Sophia. I’d joked about having a girl named Sophia Vera, i.e., Wisdom and Truth — funny when her father spent his adult life so far studying [and trying to practice] philosophy. Those were a little over the top, now that I think of it, even if they are both pretty names and even if Vera will always be special to me because of the woman I never got to meet.
My wife suggested some other names: Evey (British spelling, mostly from V for Vendetta), Zoe, Charlotte. We felt like Zoe was pretty popular and came up with Charlotte Zoe as Baby’s first and middle names. We’d call her Charlie. When we mentioned this to folks later, the response was either, “Oh, fizzle, that’s adorable!” or, “I know a real C-word named Charlotte.” Now, our daughter would never be a C-word; I’m sure. Adorable, yes; of course.
We were up so late that night that we didn’t put the recycling bin out before bed like we usually do. When Mrs. P took it out the next morning (because my hands were still too buggy to carry it), there was a sign on the poll right near where we put our recycling. Someone named Charlotte had lost her cat named Zoe and needed help finding her.
So even if I’m not religious and usually tend to the sentimental and superstitious side of things much more than the faithful, believing or even hoping side, I knew we would have a girl from a couple of months before we officially starting trying to have a baby at all. Maybe we’re reading way too much into a coincidence, as someone I know (who was, I confess, the biggest downer I’ve met recently) suggested. Or, well, maybe, possibly, it certainly appears to us — this baby was….dare I say it….meant to be?
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