Thursday, 21 October 2010

Naming the Boy Child

I love twitter for blog ideas, thank you Jane. My dearly beloved husband is a traditionalist, really quite stuck in the 1950's, so naming the boy child could have proved to be difficult. However, when pregnant, although we opted (ok he opted and I followed) not to find out the gender, we were certain the child was a boy. Husband thought this because most first borns in his family are boys. I thought this because I went off chocolate. No girl would put her mother through such a trial, having already been denied camembert, brie and gorgonzola, and a soft boiled egg. Oh and sushi!

We quickly decided on Joseph. We liked it, a strong traditional name. I was a little concerned that it was perhaps a bit, um, er, too biblical. I am a Christian, this is true, but not a traditionalist, and my husband has a fairly much ambivalent approach to religion (unless the chips are seriously down and then he's on his knees with the rest of us.) When I consulted the baby book I became less sure. "Jehovah increases" didn't seem to fit. Did it?

So, the day prior to Joseph's birth, having already been told that I would deliver the following day, we had an emergency scan, and the estimate of Joseph's weight was given. 800 grams. Tiny in anyone's language. As it turns out this was wrong, buy 150 grams. In quite the wrong direction. Joseph was going to need all the help he could get to increase!

So his first name was decided. We quickly chose Robert as his middle name, for two important reasons. Quite by chance this is my husband's middle name, and my own dad's first name. My dad cried when we told him. I omitted the fact that my husband has Robert as a middle name!

The night prior to Joseph's birth was frightening. I lay there trying to think of different things to keep my brain occupied, as mentioned before I was not allowed to sleep in case I developed full blown eclampsia. So I decided to give Joseph an extra middle name. I wanted something special, unique. Something that told his story. I chose Bowden, proncounced as bow of ship- den. Bow-den.

I have the sad misfortune to be a Richmod Tiger's fan. They are a wonderful, heritage, Australian Rules Football team with a wonderful rich history. They just so happen, at the moment, to be slightly struggling. Ok for years I have had nothing but disappointment. But hey ho, once fan and all that.

Anyway I chose Bowden after this bloke, not the biggest of players, but one of the bravest and fairest. And the Tiger's theme song really resonated with me during those long dark hours.

Oh, we’re from Tigerland,
A fighting fury, we’re from Tigerland,
In any weather you will see us with a grin,
Risking head and shin,
If we’re behind then never mind,
We’ll fight and fight and win.
For we’re from Tigerland,
We’ll never weaken ’til the final siren’s gone.
Like the Tigers of old,
We’re strong and we’re bold.
For we’re from Tiger yellow and black,
For we’re from Tigerland.

I just thought that summed up this little life that had a massive task and fight ahead, and even I wouldn't stoop to lumbering "Tiger" on a child as a middle name.

And a few months later, I received in the post a poster from Joel Bowden, signed simply "Dear Joseph, Aim High, Joel"

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