As soon as anyone finds out I’m pregnant, there are two questions. One, is it a boy or a girl? Two, what is his name? The first is easy- boy number two is on the way. The second, that would be the million dollar question. I wish I had an answer. By this time in my first pregnancy, we had a full name firmly decided upon and were on to the details of which crib we wanted and what color the carpet in the nursery should be.

Maybe it’s because this is the second baby. Or maybe it’s because it’s our second boy. For whatever reason, we just have not settled on a name for this little guy. There have certainly been some ideas tossed around, but I don’t like any of the names my husband suggests and the same is true for him. Matthias has taken to calling him JoJo, which I can assure you will NOT be the name on his birth certificate.

I do have some rules this time for choosing a name. The first time we simply picked a name we both liked. Although I love Matthias’ name and would never change it, I have learned some things from it.

A three syllable name is too long until a child is at least school aged. My son could say everyone else’s name before he mastered his own. Now, at age three and a half, he wants to spell and write words. It frustrates him that he can remember what letters belong in his name, but can’t place all eight of them in the correct sequence. And forget about that darn letter S. His little hand is just not coordinated enough to wiggle the letter the right way.

Sure, when he’s 10, he’ll have no problem communicating his moniker in any form, but at the moment, it can be a source of frustration. For these reasons, I want a name that is easier to pronounce and spell. I still want to fall in love with a name that perfectly suites this little bundle, just one with a few less letters.

Then there’s the fact that my husband essentially chose Matthias‘ name. Although it may not have been my first choice, I can’t imagine him with any other name now. It took me some time, but I did agree with the choice. But I do believe that makes it my turn to name a child. I have a name that I like, and my husband just won’t agree to it. Doesn’t my opinion override his this time?

With just eleven weeks to the finish line, I would like to call him something other than “the baby.” I feel an inexplicable urgency to finalize a name and start using it. Perhaps this is the beginning of nesting . Or maybe it is the realistic fear that we will still be having this discussion in a hospital room while nurses are waiting to sign a birth certificate.