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11-24-2006 Almost two years ago, my husband and I decided that we would like to have another child _ our third. In a little over a week, we will get on a plane to go meet her. Ever since we received the call, we have been calmly and methodically panicking. All children are physically conceived. But, as someone who has come to be a parent through adoption, I can tell you that it’s possible to conceive of a child, as well. And while that form of conception doesn’t bring a child into the world, it can bring a child into your family. I can’t tell you exactly how it happened _ how we ultimately made the decision this time around. In the six months that we had been home after adopting our daughter Bee, the issue had been floating around the house like a gossamer moth, occasionally alighting on one of our heads or the other’s. But those first six months home with a new toddler are rocky, to say the least, so that fluttering thought never lingered too long. We had more pressing things to occupy our thoughts. In fact, we had 20-pounds of more pressing things, and she was learning to walk. Then, one afternoon while we were driving an hour out of town to attend a Christmas party for families with children who were adopted in China, we just started talking about names. Little girl names. The names we would give our next little girl. Both my husband and I lost parents between 2003 and 2004. We tossed around variants of both my mother’s name and his father’s name. Mary, Maura, Moira, Mina, Mimi, Mia, Lia, Lila, Lilly, Maralia ... We thought about our closest friends _ all the people who had supported us through losing parents and celebrated with us through welcoming our new daughter into our family. Jane, Tessa, Zia ... We talked over and over about names that bloomed from roots that mean "Life." Ava, Chaya, Hannah, Vivienne ... We debated, we dreamed, we went on flights of naming fancy. "I’ve got it _ Genevieve!" "Wasn’t that Madeline’s dog?" "Um. Okay. What about Madeline’?" My son has four names; three are his father’s, and the one he signs is all his own. My daughter Bee also has four names _ she shares a surname with her dad and me. Her first name is one that spans several generations on my grandmother’s side. One of her middle names spans several generations on my husband’s grandmother’s side. The other name is the name she had when we met her. It is her Chinese name. It’s one of the precious few things she brought with her to her new family and her new country. It is two words: Excellent (which she is) and Snow (which she will get to know intimately in Cooperstown, I’m sure). In August, we learned the name of our new daughter _ the one we’re going to meet soon. Today, her name has three parts. They mean Red, the color of luck, Happy and Beautiful. We have chosen two other names for her _ her English names. But how can they even begin to compare to the name she has now? Happy, Beautiful. Elizabeth Trever Buchinger is a freelance writer whose name might as well be Grateful Terrified Giggling. She can be reached at VillageWordsmith@hughes.net. |
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