What’s in a Name?
Not knowing the baby’s gender, we had a boy name and a girl name at the ready. I was absolutely convinced that N was a girl, so much so that I gave no thought to what we would do if we should need to have a Bris. Anyway, once we were in the waiting game for preterm delivery, I couldn’t really think further than the day I was in. So, when the doctors announced that they had delivered a baby boy, we had to start thinking about when he would be big (and strong) enough to have his Bris and receive his name. Even though his hospital sticker referred to him as Master None, we knew his name and registered his birth with home affairs. We just didn’t refer to him by his name or share it with anyone. Again, none of this was of any great concern to me with a baby of under 2kg in the NICU, so I just got used to referring to him as “the baby” (still calling him that long after he was named).
Eventually at 6 weeks old, after much weighing (literally) and deliberation, N had his Bris and received his name. I have mentioned before that I am pretty much totally irreligious, but I do value and enjoy the traditions of my Jewish faith and it is important to me for N to be raised within this faith and with these traditions. Now, we knew that his name originates from the biblical story of the ark. What intrigued me was that it rained solidly for 2 days before his Bris and on the day itself. Even more coincidental, was when my husband found a leaflet from the synagogue in the bag with his prayer shawl that specifically revolved around the passage of Noach. This was the prayer shawl we had brought in which to wrap N for this rite of passage. There is a Yiddish word “beshert” meaning “destiny” or “preordained”. Maybe N’s name was beshert. Maybe it was beshert for him to receive that name on that day, 5 weeks later than was meant (according to tradition of the Bris taking place at 7 days old). As much as I struggle to believe in (or even acknowledge) such things, I do often think of how everything seemed ‘aligned’ for my little boy to come to be called by his name.
On a fluffier note, when we took N to his regular check-up after he’d been named, our paediatrician grinned at hearing it and said to us “I know it’s biblical, BUT have you seen The Notebook?”. I still laugh when I think of that.
Regardless of the origin, I hope that N makes his own name in the world and lives up to his own legacy. Safe to say, he marches to the beat of his own drum. When I first saw his perfect tiny face, I knew that the name fit. It was his.
So, what is in a name? A special mom of one of N’s school friends shared with me a beautiful piece that she wrote about her son and his name and she has allowed me to share it here, right between the birthdays of our 2 boys (who were born exactly a week apart):
“Mrs Grawitzky did you receive Ruach Hakodesh when choosing a name for your children?” my high school students want to know. Before I answer, I pause, and feel overwhelmed with gratitude to Hashem as I indeed recall the Divine inspiration I received when naming my eldest son.
My husband and I were eager to name our eldest son after his grandfather, Sam or rather Shmuel Yechezkel. My husband, the eldest grandson, had a special relationship with Zeida: A man of wisdom and wit, of brilliance and steadfast beliefs. Zeida was sharp as he was gentle, stubborn as he was sensitive. A man I unfortunately did not have the privilege of meeting but a man I have heard so much about: stories and anecdotes that personify him so well that I feel as though I have met him, yet, at the same time mourn this giant I did not know. The morning of the bris arrived, with its usual chaos and nerves. Before my husband left for Shacharis, I told him that although I loved the name Yechezkel, I think we should name our baby just Shmuel, as our surname is a rather long and complicated one (9 letters!) and I joked that our son would only be able to say his full name at his Bar Mitzvah – I didn’t feel that was fair. And so Shmueli it was.
From the moment our Shmueli was born, I was in love. He was a beautiful, charming, gentle baby and he brought us so much joy. Many of my friends struggled to settle into their new lives as tired, busy mothers. But I couldn’t relate. I could just sit and watch his every breath, his every move, gaze at the navy colour of his eyes, his chubby fingers, the dimple in his chin. Our Shmueli was just perfect! All of Shmueli’s milestones were delayed and required intense intervention to achieve, and when he was 19 months I took him for a speech assessment as I was concerned that he was unable to communicate despite his comprehension being strong. When Shmueli turned 2, he was diagnosed with Verbal Apraxia, a motor planning disorder. All the struggles that we had been through seemed to add up now.
It has been over 2 years since then and we have been blessed to be surrounded by a school, therapists, family and friends who not only believe in Shmueli but are devoted to being the catalyst for his development. When we started this journey, Shmueli would say “daddy car” as a response to any question, due to his lack of ability to produce any other words. Today Shmueli has become a real chatterbox, communicating beautifully and many would not believe the journey we are traveling. When I have a moment, I gaze into Shmueli’s green eyes (yes, they changed colour) and wonder at this beautiful child that Hashem entrusted in my hands. He is a child of courage and of hard work, of determination and of strength. Shmueli knows the pain of disappointment and failure, and the embarrassment from thoughtless comments, but he also knows the feeling of success and the sweetness of triumph. We have not only survived this battle, we have emerged stronger. Shmueli has accumulated skills and tools at a tender age, many that most adults do not possess.
Some days are harder than others. There is no denying it, it is hard to see your child struggle with basic things that you didn’t even know required effort or thought, and that come so naturally to most children. Watching the times he searches for the words to describe something, but is left with incoherent babble, can break my heart. Sitting through multiple forms of therapy sessions a week, pulling at my own creativity to assist Shmueli in maximising the time, is draining. It is hard to know the balance of how much to push him and when to give in. And there are moments when my mind wonders to the future, as if trying to peek at what will be. But I manage to mostly focus on each day, each challenge, each milestone, each triumph. I try to see the child that is in front of me now, and when I am positive, I know that I can have the most profound impact on his progress.
When Shmueli smiles, his whole face beams, and when he laughs, you can’t help but join in… It’s that contagious. His eyes sparkle, giving us a glimpse of the shining Neshama within. Shmueli has unbelievable patience and the ability to understand the bigger picture. He asks intelligent questions, has a strong sense of Hashem in his life and his ability to focus on the goal at hand, will only benefit him in the future. Shmueli has a deep sensitivity to others pain and discomfort, and looks out for others. His stubbornness and attention to detail has accelerated his progress beyond our wildest dreams. When Shmueli started smiling at two weeks old, I knew he was a unique child. I just did not know the journey we needed to go on in order to discover it fully! When Shmueli celebrated his fourth birthday (almost a year ago), he had almost mastered saying his first name. And G-d willing, I know that he will be able to say his last name way before his Bar Mitzvah. But I thank Hashem often that He gave me the insight to not call him Shmuel Yechezkel Grawitzky.
So, I guess you can now answer my students, did I have Divine inspiration when naming my Shmueli??
Glossary of terms:
Ruach hakodesh: Divine Inspiration
Hashem: G-d
Bris: Circumcision and Naming Ceremony
Shacharis: Morning Prayers
Bar Mitzvah: 13th Birthday and age where a boy is considered a man
Neshama: Soul