I remember after I had my fourth baby, I went to the grocery store with her in my ring sling and someone stopped me to marvel at this little human I created within my own body. They said she was pretty and then asked “what did you name her?” I named her Mia Grace. My little Mia Pia Tutu. My first girl after three little boys. Oh I was proud of her.
This is not an uncommon conversation for new mothers/parents to have. Everyone ooooos and awwwwws over new babies, asks their name, says they are beautiful, etc. I love these conversations. I enjoy my babies being doted on. I was on baby #4 so this was an exchange I had many times. I have cute babies, what can I say?!
But the thing that struck me about this otherwise normal conversation was how this person asked her name. How they worded it.
“What did you name her” instead of “what is her name.” It’s something I’ve never forgotten. I’ve thought about it for years and the difference finally hit me one day.
“What’s her name?” This is commonly what is asked. There’s nothing wrong with it. I have been asked this a million times. As a new mother, I beam and excitedly answer. I am always happy when someone cares enough about this new member of the world to ask her name. But as I thought about the two ways of asking a mother her baby’s name, I realized this wording sounds as if my baby exists outside of me. As if she was born already named. She is not of who I am and I am not of who she is. We are separate. This is Mia and I am her mom. Which is not untrue but there’s so much more to this new and evolving love story of a mother and her baby.
“What did you name her?” This wording brings a type of ‘belonging to’ into the conversation. She belongs to me. I have her. She is mine. She is mine to name. I have the power to name her and with such, we belong to each other. Mother and daughter. We are not separate. We are the same. I need her and she needs me. I grew this baby inside of my body and we know one another in a beautiful and intimate way. Now that she is earthside, my tiny baby still needs my body for comfort, nourishment, warmth, and love. My body needs her as well. My swollen breasts need her suckle at them. My uterus, which is still healing, needs the oxytocin from breastfeeding to keep me safe for many weeks after birth from bleeding too much. I need her close and she needs me close. My senses and instincts are awakened in a new way. I know my baby’s every cry and coo. I know how she curls her legs up on me as she sleeps. I know how she touches my breast as she feeds. I know her and she knows me. We are bonded. I named her. She belongs to me and I to her.
“What did you name her” just hit differently and I think in a powerful way. I think in a way that made me feel powerful and knowledgeable and capable of raising this baby. It reminded me that we are the same and helped me tap into those instincts everyone talked about. It helped me feel like a mother - her mother.
So now I ask “what did you name her?” when I meet a new mother because I want her to feel powerful, connected, and capable of nurturing and raising the baby she grew and brought earthside. I want every mother to feel powerful in her own skin. There’s so much that we already question about our capabilities and if changing the way we word one seemingly simple question can change the way a new mama feels then I’m all for it. That person at the grocery store unknowingly changed the way I bonded with my baby on that ordinary day of running errands. I’m forever grateful to that stranger.