My son is named after his father. In fact, he’s name after both his father and grandfather; his suffix is “III.” Once my ex rejected him( even after signing his birth certificate) I seriously debated changing his name. Not his first name, he was just about eleven months at the time and certainly used to his first name but his middle and last names……..most definitely! In my mind there was no sense in wearing the name of the person who ejected him.

Rewind to 11 months (now almost 2 years ago) I remember finding out I was pregnant and instantly thinking “well at least I don’t have to think of a name.” After telling one of my newly divorced friends my plan to name him after his father she posed some real questions. Are you sure he’s going to be around; you don’t want to name him after someone who acts an ass then you’re reminded of that person every time you call your son. “How will you feel calling your son by this name (his name) when you’re pissed off with him(the ex)? “I’m going through all of that now she remarked, I almost hate calling my son’s real name because it reminds me of his father. There’s a lot that goes into naming the child after his father, stuff we don’t think about.” I’ll admit, she scared the shit out of me. I hadn’t thought of any of that. She scared me so much I debated and actually tried to change my son’s name. I remember thinking “maybe he can just have the same initials as his dad”; maybe he can have a different name altogether, different initials and all.” I ran the idea of another name by my mom who loved it. She suggested that was a good idea as we already had 2-3 cousins with the same first name. And as she told me oddly enough one of those cousins had a middle name that was close to my son’s father’s middle name too. Agreeing that was too much, for the next three weeks I came up with different names and called my son by them……that stubborn little man wouldn’t budge. I liked one name in particular and really wished he would answer to it BUT wishful thinking. He would only answer to his father’s name….and so it was I was stuck naming him after his father. With my baby due any day now I became quite content with naming him after his dad, after all his dad was pleased with the decision AND my son refused to answer to anything else.

During the first ten months I never rethought my son’s name. Sure his dad and I had some rough times but those come with the territory of being in a relationship. It wasn’t until that night in October a year after having my first doubts that I suddenly felt as if I’d made a mistake. It was the week before my son’s baptism and his father was taking forever to give his parents the invitation. I decided we’d known one another for the longest; we had a great relationship, there was no reason I couldn’t send his mom a message with the invite myself. That was the absolute biggest mistake of my life. It was that night all hell broke loose. Long story short my son’s father told her we had a DNA test and the kid wasn’t his. Talk about an earth shattering moment. I have to stand in front of God, my Pastor, family, and church family to have my son baptized with a name of someone rejecting him?!?!? I have to stand there bearing THIS?!?!? TOO MUCH JESUS, TOO MUCH!!!!

You couldn’t pay me to believe I hadn’t made a mistake. How could I not see this happening? How was I supposed to get him baptized. Was I really going to stand there and allow him to be called by the traitor’s name? What choice did I have? This was such a nightmare. There we stood having him baptized by the traitor’s name; with a cake at dinner afterwards that also had his name…not a sole from that side of the family there. Not even his treacherous ass twenty-three other chromosomes. This was so embarrassing.

I got through that day taking the celebratory dinner to divulge to my cousins what had transpired. It helped to tell someone other than my best friends and my mother but still there was a deathly feeling. It was that damn name.

In an argument attempting to get through what happened I told the jackass that I intended to change the my son’s name because I didn’t want the baby to bear the constant rejection from someone who didn’t want him. This foo had the audacity to tell me that hurt his feelings. Pardon my language but I flipped the fuck out. Do you really think I care about your feelings after what you did to me? What about my son’s feelings? How is he going to feel as he gets older?

That was and still is such a haunting question. How do you explain to a child why you made a decision to name him after someone who decided to abandon him? The truth has been suggested, but if I’m my son I don’t want to hear “ I used to love him, we grew up together, I named you to honor him as his first born son, I didn’t see this coming, I’m sorry. He’ll hear I’m sorry because I am, I never intended for things to go this way, but really how do I teach him not to look at his name as a badge of shame? How do I teach him to handle questions about his name in school? How do I answer when he asks why we have different last names? What do I say if he asks why didn’t I change his name? Almost a year later and I still don’t have answers.

Looking back on my rant about changing his name, my mother never actually co-signed or tried to talk me out of it. From what I can remember she just let me vent. Of course my cousins said change his name and go for child support, my best friends agreed with my cousins….once they came out of their shock about the entire situation. One of my mom’s friends told me not to change his name because if anything ever happened to his father my son would get money….Lord forbid this of course. Really, the decision was mine. When I originally told his father I was changing his name I told his father he should have the privilege of giving his name to someone he loved, cared about and wanted to parent. I was serious when I said that. On the other hand it was pretty fucked up knowing he may have another son some day and the chick will never know about my kid UNTIL she tried to name her son after this same treacherous soul only to find out it wasn’t possible.

In the end I still haven’t changed his name. I let my son keep his name. I didn’t do it out of spite, fear, not for money( I’m not even seeking child support from the bastard I just want to be left alone in peace), I didn’t do it out of indecisiveness. Now I haven’t given my son a nickname he can only be called by his full name. Any nickname is entirely too close to his father, and while I forgive him and I’m moving past all this….I still don’t wanna hear that name. No bitterness there, I don’t cringe when others do it, I don’t correct them BUT I’m not making a habit out of it either. I haven’t changed his name because one day my son will be great( I truly believe this). One day my son will change the world, he will make it a better place. When that day comes I want his other twenty-three chromosomes to know he missed out. I want him to be reminded that missing out was his decision. I want him to be reminded of what he did.

I don’t know how to answer my son, I hope I never have to answer those questions but if I do I’ll tell him the truth. I named you after him because at one point I loved him, and you were a gift to him. It’s not your fault that he didn’t realize or accept you as his gift. It’s not your fault that he didn’t stay, he missed out, not you. I am truly sorry that you have to bear his name, you are free to change your name BUT his decisions don’t dictate who you are, they don’t dictate who you will be. They don’t dictate your worth. Having his name doesn’t dictate your worth or your future. I truly think that’s the best answer I can give him.