
When I fell pregnant with my daughter two years ago, I already had a loooong list of baby names in my phone.
It was full of sweet, girly monikers like Violet and Daisy and Posie – yes, there was a definite floral theme going on – and I figured choosing one would be the easiest part of having a baby.
I mean, compared to changing nappies and getting up at all hours of the night, it’s a piece of cake, right?
But suddenly the prospect of naming an actual living human and sticking with it for her entire life felt very daunting.
What if she wanted to be a teacher? Or a DJ? Or a doctor? Would I be limiting her with a name that just wouldn’t cut it in her chosen profession? God forbid she wanted to be a florist…
But these days, there’s also the added layer of complication that comes when you and your partner have different last names.
When I got married eight years ago, I decided to keep my own last name because I felt connected to it, I used it for work and, I’ll be honest, I was too lazy to bother with all the paperwork to change it.
But it was still relatively unusual to keep my last name.
I got lots of puzzled looks from friends and some older family members telling me it would be too confusing or that I’d regret it if/when I had kids.
But while I’d definitely chosen the less common route in keeping my own name, when it came to our daughter being born, it just felt natural to both of us that she would take her dad’s last name.