In writing my previous post, I told you a little bit about the history of how Iliya came to continue being called Iliya. One thing I wanted to make clear is that changing/keeping names is a purely personal thing. I don't think there is a right or wrong choice, especially for much younger children (and possibly even older children, though that is totally out of my area of "expertise"). But keeping his first name was just something we chose to do. As you read, keep in mind that these posts are merely about our choices (and my reflections on those choices), and aren't meant to minimize the choices others make or have made.

As trip one progressed, we felt like we had made the right choice in deciding to keep Iliya's name. In part, because we found that he knew his name and responded to it. Well...he responded to the diminutive form of his name (which is the "child's form" of the name - similar to a William being called Billy). His caregivers called him all sorts of things - Ilyushka, Ilyusha, Ilyushenka, Lyush, Lyusha. All of the above, and he completely responded appropriately to them when they called his name or talked to him. So if we had had any doubts about keeping his name, witnessing his reactions to the caregivers sealed the deal for us.

After court, when we brought Iliya to the hotel with us, we actually spent a few days helping him associate his given name with the diminutive form of his name. I don't know that this was absolutely necessary, but we didn't want to form the habit of having to call him by the diminutive ALL the time. So he now responds to his given name, pretty much all "forms" of the diminutive, and some newer "pet names" we have for him. He calls himself Iliya (Li-La).

We really have no regrets about keeping Iliya’s name. Our friends and family are great with his name - my frustrations often lie with complete strangers. When I began my original post, yesterday, I came to vent...but really, I realize that there is no controlling the reactions of strangers - so this has turned into a more observational thing (with a few feelings/thoughts thrown in).

I've mentioned that Iliya is a pretty social guy. He's friendly, and people usually enjoy trying to engage/interact with a friendly child. I typically don't mind...but I have to hold my breath when the occasional person asks, "what is your name?" Iliya responds with his usual "Li-La" and the person, thinking the child is speaking jibberish, looks to mom for clarification. This is when I say, "Iliya." And sometimes I get, "hmmm. that's nice..." but more often there's often a strange contortion of the face, followed by a "what?" And this is where I feel compelled to explain, we adopted him from Russia, yada yada yada.

But in my quest to just "fit in" as a regular ole mom of a 2-year old, I've found a pretty pat answer that - as of yet - has not produced followup questions (or maybe the answer just hasn't been given to the right person, to incite questions). If, after I have said his name once, I get the "what?" reaction, my answer is, "His name is Iliya, which is a Russian name." I don't know if it's my answer, or the word "Russian" - but most people say, "oh..." and go back to interacting with him, or they go on their way.

The other interesting issue we've run into is actually speaking with people who don't know us and have not yet met Iliya in person.

I can’t tell you the number of times that I’ve been on the phone with the doctor’s office, and they ask when “her” birthday is. Or how to pronounce or spell “her” name. Or when they’re expecting to see a girl when they walk in the room, and do a huge double take when their expectation turns out to be false.

Supposing that Iliya is a girl – without seeing him – is fairly natural, I suppose…given the fact that a lot of people think that the name "Iliya" is somehow akin to “Aliyah.” But I feel bad because I will inevitably embarrass someone, when I have to say, “he’s a boy, and you pronounce it…” They don’t mean to make the wrong supposition – so I try to be very understanding. But there are only so many ways to say “ummm…it’s a boy name! Not a girl!”

People go out of their way not to give pronunciation a shot – they'll look at his chart or some form (I'm speaking about the medical community, mostly because our most recent experiences have involved doctors' offices, insurance company, etc) and say something like, "well helloooooo....?(raised eyebrows, looking at mom or dad)" Sometimes, they'll give it a shot, but Nathan & I are usually pretty quick to jump to their rescue. I’ve been thanked, more than once, for being understanding about a mispronunciation.

On a sidenote -- Perhaps the funniest thing was yesterday, at the doctor’s office, the doctor came in and said, “Hi there! I’m Dr. X, and this must be…(raised eyebrows)….” Nathan and I both said, “Iliya.” The doctor got a funny look on his face and scrutinized the chart and said, “Hmmm…I wouldn't have guessed that. I think it was the “a” that was throwing me off.”

The “a”?? And here I am thinking it was that middle "i" that threw people off! :)

Anyway, I'm really not stuffy about people's reactions (I may come across as such here, but I'm not). I just secretly sometimes get weary of feeling like I should explain (when - in fact - I really do not) why my child has a different name (ahhhh, you say, the underlying issue...). The fact of the matter is, there are lots of kids running around with way-less-than-ordinary names, and their parents (as far as I can tell) do not feel compelled to tell the whole story of how they came to be named their less-than-ordinary name.

I had originally written out a sort of self-analysis on my compulsion to explain about Iliya's name by way of explaining his adoption, when I receive a strange reaction to his name......but it actually ended up making me sound like some kind of nutcase. And I most probably definitely do not want my readership to develop ideas of my inner craziness. :)

The basic premise of my analysis is that am a pretty simple gal who knows that strangers make natural assumptions about our family situation - things like sharing genes (we don't really look different, so it's easy to suppose that we all share genes). They assume that - upon first meeting - our child probably has a name like William or John...but when they get "Iliya" (something totally unexpected) they stare agog, and I feel compelled to explain away the gaps between their expectations and reality.

So I think what we are getting here is my desire to be "what you see is what you get," which brings on the strange need to set people straight on their assumptions...when I don't really want or need to set people straight, because, doggone it, I'm just Iliya's mom & that's it!

See? Crazy, I told you.

Fortunately my "standard answer" (as mentioned above) seems to help my compulsion. It is the sort of answer that serves a dual purpose, in a way. It helps me give "explanation" without giving people more info than they want (or I want to give)...and allows people to draw whatever conclusions they feel like drawing. I almost always say it with an open smile on my face...I do not mind questions, if a person seems genuinely interested in the whole "Russian" portion of my answer (who knows, I could be speaking to a future adoptive parent!?), but more often than not, it's explanation-enough, and it's all I have to say.

But I digress...

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"So," you ask, "if you could go back, would you change anything about your decision regarding your child's name?"

I would answer, absolutely not. Knowing what I know now...I might make the decision to spell it differently - but honestly, when I think about it, it still doesn't feel quite right to spell his name any differently than we do (thank you, Maggie, for your comment on our spelling). His name is beautiful. It is a unique name for a unique little boy with a unique history! And if people mispronounce, it's really okay...we're already getting better and more patient about mispronunciations. And if people think he's got a girl name...well, there's really nothing we can do about that. And for those of you who may be worried about misspelling when you type...seriously, I am least worried about that, for some reason.

I hope and pray that we are raising a child who is confident, who loves his name and his heritage, and who can smile (or even laugh to himself) when people make mistakes with his name. And I hope all of these qualities can be useful when tackling or dealing with even bigger things than a name.

And...someday... I hope he will come to appreciate the actual meaning of his name, and its significance in bringing our lives together.