When we drove to Waco to sign adoption papers, Brett and I hadn’t landed on a name. I had really good options for our almost-son. I induced an identity crisis just trying out names on him as I rocked and fed him in the NICU. Brett, the perpetual name-pusher held on to the name Owen. Honestly, the name wasn’t my favorite.
It’s also a name that’s rising in popularity—and no matter how much I like a name, that’s a deal breaker for me. It’s why I have one kid named after a transliteration of a Greek word and another kid named after a food product.