What's in a Name?

I can still remember the overpowering feeling that came over me when Coriel was born, one of peaceful, but also playful, happiness. This was how I knew that the name Felice was just right for her middle name. It wasn’t me creating that feeling (because, hey, I’d just been through the most painful and emotionally overwhelming experience of my life). It was her, her spirit, who she was.

She was the easiest. I knew her immediately.

Addra took a while longer, but even still we knew over a few days that Bliss was right for her, another joyful name.

Now, of course, we’d sort of started a pattern. When I was pregnant with Koa, we realized we had better at least look carefully at joyful names or else someday the kid was gonna wonder if we didn’t like him.

We wracked our brains. We scoured the internet. I don’t think it was until after he was born that Brice finally discovered the right name, and I’m still not sure how he found it. But “koa” is a word that means “joyful” in Maori, with the extra bonus that it means “warrior” in Hawaiian. And, of course, the fact that it suits him.

It was almost too much to ask that we might find a name for our fourth child that would follow this theme. Because, of course, at this point, we would really be signing up for years of family therapy if the child didn’t get a “happy” name. Again, we had a difficult time. This is partially because boy names are just harder for us, partially because we were seeking a particular meaning (if possible, anyway), and partially because—let’s be honest—a small part of us really wanted an “E” name so that our kids would spell out CAKE.*

I also thought we should look carefully at names that mean “faith,” because more than with any of the other children, taking this leap toward having a baby was an act of faith in God’s plan for us, and it was a terrifying one at that.

We tried things out. We joked about various silly ideas, like “Agapito Roughty” (a combination of two names we’d heard while doing work in the temple). We vetoed quite a number of options. We came down to about five that we thought we might like, and we tried them all out on the giant belly. Then we tried them again. Then we started combining them. Only one of our options, “Asher” (we’d call him Ash), had a meaning related to “joy.” But I have to confess it was slightly too popular for me to be perfectly happy about it.**

Then, a few weeks before the babe was born, Brice was reading the story of Ammon in the Book of Mormon. If you’re unfamiliar with it, or need a refresher, here’s the salient part: Ammon and his brothers, and their friend Alma, had been very wicked people, but through miraculous intervention, they had changed, repented, and become great missionaries, spreading the joy of the gospel all through the land, especially to people who had traditionally been hateful toward their people and the gospel. After a time, they came back together to share in their excitement over their successes. Ammon especially was vocal about his joy, and his brothers told him he was being kind of braggy. This was his response: “I do not boast in my own strength, nor in my own wisdom; but behold, my joy is full, yea, my heart is brim with joy, and I will rejoice in my God” (Alma 26:11).

And there it was, the joy we were looking for. We didn’t officially settle on the name until a couple of days after his birth, but it became the top contender a week or two before. So though his name doesn’t literally mean “joy” or “happy,”*** it still comes from a place of joy, and that seems right to us.****

As I think about it, each of our children’s “happy” names holds a different nuance, and each represents something I hope they will have in their lives.

~ Coriel’s is the deep, inward peace and joy that comes from within.

~ Addra’s is the full-bodied joy of sheer existence.

~ Koa’s is the joy of being strong in a meaningful, righteous cause.

~ Ammon’s is the joy of knowing that God has a plan and a wonderful place for you in it.

So that’s how Ammon got his name, and we think it suits him very well. We have been blessed in all of our children to have such joyful spirits, and I’m grateful for that. I sincerely hope and pray that I can help them to keep those joys even when life is hard or when circumstances try to make them despair. Also, I hope that I will never make the mistake of making them think they should be happy at any cost. I don’t believe happiness is the final goal; I think it’s just a natural outgrowth of being a good, loving, compassionate person.

Finally, a note on pronunciation: The first time I was asked how to pronounce “Ammon,” I went into this huge, long spiel that may or may not have trotted out my love of the schwa. Then I realized I could just say that it rhymes with “ham ‘n’ cheese” (minus the cheese, of course). And then, finally, Brice pointed out that it also rhymes with “salmon.” So there you go, an actually simple and sensible pronunciation guide at last. It rhymes with “salmon.”

And now you know more than you ever wanted to about the children’s names.

Ha, look! Now he looks disarmed too!
Har har har.

* Now, instead, the spell out “CAKA,” which admittedly sounds suspiciously like how a small child says “yucky,” but that’s just too bad.

** No, this is not a blog post analyzing my personal hang-ups about ridiculous things.

*** Actually, it apparently literally means “a people.”

**** Also, if you are thinking about a joke about how Ammon is “disarming,” just know that we’ve already gotten it several times. :) *****

***** Again, if you’re not familiar with the Book of Mormon, there’s a part where Ammon is serving the king of the people he’s a missionary to, and he saves the king’s sheep—and the servants—from a band of robbers. He does this by chopping off the robbers’ arms. Hence “disarming.” Har har har.