When you’re pregnant you spend hours looking at baby names with your partner, trying to pick the perfect one for your unborn child. My husband and I were no different; hours were spent searching the internet looking for inspiration. So, it pains me to say that for a period of time, I couldn’t stand my daughter’s name, despite the fact that I was the one who had chosen it. Hearing her name made me flinch; I felt like I wanted to change it to something else…
The reason goes back, like so many things, to when she fell critically ill at two weeks old, which resulted in her needing open surgery.
The first two weeks of her life, I’d gaze at her through blurry sleep-deprived eyes and just think she was the most perfect thing ever and that she had a lovely name that suited her. It just seemed like it was the right name for her and suited her very well. The reception of her name from other people was generally good too, everyone told us what a nice and unusual name Autumn was.
The problem started when we were in the local hospital with her. “Hello! So, this is Autumn we have here?” doctors and nurses would say as they entered the room, before giving us more messages of doom or uncertainty. Of course, the worse our situation got with her, the more her name had negative connotations for me.
It got to the point where I’d almost physically wince when anyone said her name. Doctors particularly, but even relatives saying her name made me almost wince.
Once Autumn’s operation was done and we were back home, I was having huge issues with anxiety and I still had issues with her name too. Every time I heard her name, it just reminded me of the huge nightmare we’d been through. I remember when I was with the specialist mental health doctor and his assistant asked what she was called. “Autumn”, I barely managed to say, whilst hyperventilating. “Oh! That’s a lovely name!” she replied. “Yeah…” I trailed off, unconvincingly.
Fortunately, once the medication started kicking in, I began to feel better fairly quickly. It took me a little while, but I really do like her name again now. When people tell me they like her name, I say “Thank you”, pleased that they think it was a good choice. I loved it when I thought of it when I was pregnant and Dave really liked it too. It was the top of our list for if we had a girl and when I had to stay overnight in hospital at the end of August because the doctors thought I was going to go into labour imminently, one of my biggest concerns was that she couldn’t be called Autumn if she was born in August! It really is a lovely name and it suits her so well.
I feel almost embarrassed that for a while I hated her name, but I suppose it’s just another side-effect of the terrible way in which I dealt with the traumatic events that were happening around me.
I’m just so so pleased that my little Autumn is okay now. I love my beautiful little baby girl and once again, I love her beautiful name.