Some reflections on Xanthe's dedication.

Xanthe is now seven months old.  Those seven months have gone by extraordinarily quickly, during which I have developed practical skills I never believed I would need and an unusual ability to remain alert in spite of all the sleepless nights.

It's interesting that, already, differences are emerging between my parenting approaches and those Anna prefers.  Inevitably, these stem from personal and family experiences.  They also are the product of the expectations of those closest to us. of our respective views of the world and ultimately how we see ourselves.

The small matter of the baby's rite of passage came up, and in some respects we are in agreement.  Neither of us believes that a bit of water and some religious mumble-jumble will do a child much good.  Similarly, we don't believe in imposing religion upon a child's life.  I personally struggle with the notion of baptism as being anything but voluntary.  But we also are both of the view that we wish for our family - and extended family - to be as involved in Xanthe's life as possible and we saw the value in something that would celebrate this new life while also looking to the future - perhaps actually going beyond traditional rituals and practices while loosely confirming to them.

Anna's from a more typically religious background than I am; her father is the minister of an independent church in Cumbria that seems to swing between socially liberal and conservative philosophies depending on the issue. We certainly have some interesting conversations.  They don't "do" religion in the classical sense either, which I find quite positive.  However, sadly in their proclaimed irreligiousness such people become religious: my brother had specifically requested before Xanthe's birth to be a godparent (one reason why this was important to us) but apparently their church does not believe in them.  Wasn't there a chance of incorporating this into a dedication ceremony for a family member?  It seemed not, at least without creating internal family feuds.  

It does make you wonder, if they can't  accommodate family requests what chance is there of actively reaching out to others in need of inclusion such as LGBT people?

Godparents were important to us not from the perspective of religious convention, but because mentoring and supporting parents in the roles is vital in a child's development.  And in my brother Adrian and my friend Bob, not only had we found two incredibly supportive mentors with a real interest in Xanthe's development, but some incredibly good role models.  Both have very different life experiences which will enrich Xanthe's cultural and social understandings as she grows up.

It would have been quite a nice thing to have a dedication ceremony in Anna's family's church but neither of us wanted to labour the point about inclusivism, and we certainly didn't wish to exclude people we'd already asked to be godparents.  

Fortunately the Salvation Army was on hand to allow us a "dedication" rather than a Christening ceremony.  I like the Salvation Army, although I don't really buy into where it comes from theologically. They've been quite good to me in the past, to put it mildly.  And, on this occasion, they allowed us to create our own  ceremony including a secular song that I'd written, performed by Xanthe's cousins.  We were able to fully involve both family and godparents in ways that we wanted and while there were many Christian references the religious content wasn't laid on very thick, always positive for those present who struggle with ecclesiastical speak and religion more generally.

The event itself took place last Saturday; indeed, as we had hoped, it turned into a celebration of a young life with huge potential.  It was also a way of bringing our rather diverse family and friends together, of making people feel significant and involved, and for enjoying some pretty good food.  It also made a statement of how deeply Xanthe is loved and the dedication many people have to care for her.

These events are important for so many reasons.  It's a milestone in Xanthe's life and a means of drawing people who are important to us (and therefore to Xanthe) together.  And, in our case, it sent out a strong signal of inclusiveness.  Everyone was welcome, because they are a part of Xanthe's life.  We are all the products of hundreds of relationships: they might vary in terms of how they positively affect us, but there can be no denying that they make us who we are.  And, as Xanthe's father, those people who have shaped my own life inevitably influence Xanthe's in unseen ways.  No doubt my attitudes and worldviews were forged by my own family, friends and countless people I've come into contact with.  This was reflected by hidden tributes to people who were not present and will never have the privilege of knowing Xanthe personally: a Gaelic reading in memory of my friend Bill Beaton, a rendition of Le Lac de Come in honour of Dr Jose Belda, who taught me the piece and inspired me to study medicine, and my own song being written to the tune of The Dark Island in tribute to an elderly lady named Mrs Williams who, during my time at Oban High School, contributed in no small way to my personal well-being and who, rather amazingly, decided to take up learning the accordion at the age of 90.

The problem with such events is that, too often, they are overtly religious and lack any kind of scope for actually focusing on the child themselves.  Surprisingly many still find the need to endure such tedious ceremony, often in spite of their lack of belief. That wasn't for us.  Similarly, while there are beautiful humanist naming ceremonies which I'm happy to promote, we also wanted to include many family members who have particular Christian beliefs and may have struggled with an entirely non-religious service.  We felt that inclusivism was a more fitting message than any other and are certainly very grateful to the Salvation Army, who allowed us to make Xanthe's dedication all things to (almost) all people and, most importantly, for accommodating the many very personal and unique requirements we had.

It was a surprisingly beautiful and inclusive ceremony.  Actually, come to think of it, given our respective families that isn't too hard.  Plenty of people from different backgrounds including some LGBT people - all who have one thing in common: they're part of Xanthe's life.

Christenings, dedications, naming ceremonies...ultimately, whatever they are called, they should be about introducing a child to a world of love, with people close to him or her pledging commitment to their well-being.  It isn't God's day, it's the child's - and the family's.  

The last word goes to Xanthe's godparent Bob and his wife Helen who wrote to us afterwards: "We were honoured to be part of your dedication service and lovely family party/celebration.  Thank you for inclusing us.  How fortunate Xanthe is - to be born with such a lovely, lively family,with such a splendid cohort of uncles, aunts, cousins, etc. It was very good to be part of Xanthe's big day."  

No doubt, it's one of many "big days" Xanthe will have throughout her life.  I imagine that some might turn out to be a little more expensive...

How to choose a baby name...democratically

As I've very recently become a new dad, in the next few months or so I might reflect on parenthood more than a little!

I would like to thank everyone on twitter, some who I know well and some less well, for all your kind congratulatory messages yesterday after I announced the arrival of baby Xanthe.

Somebody noted that "Xanthe is such an ACE name" and inevitably conversation turned to how we picked it.  When I explained how we named her, someone else commented "if that's true, that's almost as cool as the name itself!"  Intrigued?

We were told at our second ultrasound scan that our expected child was a girl.  I've been naturally suspicious of such predictions since my little "brother" turned out to be a little sister all the way back in 1991, so I didn't feel a sudden urgency to have the bedroom decorated pink - but obviously we needed to start thinking about potential names.

Actually, we'd given some thought to names in the recent past.  It would have been much easier for a boy in some respects.  Given my background, I like Gaelic names and eastern European names (my grandfather was Polish) but Anna is less keen on them, especially when she can't even spell Ciorstaidh or Agnieszka never mind pronounce them.  She prefers "pretty" names, although the name meanings are also quite important to her.  Needless to say we found it a bit difficult to agree, although with a little help from a book of names we managed to create a list of 19 names we both liked.

We decided that we would allow our family and some close friends to vote for our baby's name.  Democracy can sometimes produce undesirable outcomes but as we thought each of the names was perfectly good, it seemed an excellent way to have people involved in our child's life from even before she was born.  Additional benefits were also knowing what names people didn't like and being able to share with our child in the future the choices her whole family made for her.  Obvious secondary advantages include the knowledge that if - when she is older - she doesn't like her name, we have the evidence with which to blame Grandad and Auntie Suzie.

Most importantly, we wanted to involve people who are close to us - and not least to make them feel involved.   After all, they're going to play important roles in our child's life, so why shouldn't they have a say?

Of course, questions were raised between us about which electoral system should be used and what the terms of the franchise should be.  Debate raged about whether STV or AV was better (we eventually settled for the preferential system used in the Eurovision song contest, how very me!) and how old people should be before they should vote.  That was settled quite easily: anyone who can write the numbers 1 to 8 is perfectly equipped to vote.  And so everyone in our family aged from 5 upwards was sent a pink ballot form.

I must say that most people were more than happy to take part in democratically choosing the name!  The children seemed far more excited than expected, and indeed some were so thrilled by their first experiences of democracy that they can't wait to vote in a "proper" election.   Interestingly, the children seemed to get the idea of preferential voting much easier than some of their elders did.  They were also very excited about knowing the outcome and analysing the results in astonishing depth (I suspect we have some future psephologists and statisticians in the family).

We also received some very nice messages from the voters, the highlight I think being this: "How wonderful to allow us to pick your daughter's name...this is a lovely idea and Keanu [6 year old boy] was excited picking names.  All the best."

As is perhaps to be expected with preferential voting systems, strange and unexpected results can be thrown up.  Names we thought would do well did not, while others we considered to be a bit adventurous and less likely to do well proved very popular.  After everyone had made their choices the most popular six names were:

1) Xanthe   2) Emma   3=) Rebekah   3=) Heidi   5) Aaliyah   6) Charlotte

It wasn't necessarily the case that we would go with the most popular name, especially when there were very few points separating the top handful.  I have to admit preferring Heidi or Emma but eventually we agreed to abide by the express verdict of the voters!

My brother asked me "did you know you've named your daughter after a Greek football team?"  Well, there is a team (and a town) called Xanthi, but surely Xanthe is a much more unique name than Chelsea, Charlton, Everton or other clubs children sometimes share their names with.  Of course Xanthe is a Greek name, the meaning of which is "bright".  I'm pretty sure she'll live up to this in more ways than one.

So, that's the story of how we used democracy to select our girl's name.  The outcome was not what we expected, but it was terrific to have so many people involved and interested - and quite exciting tallying up the points as the forms gradually came in.  I suspect we're not going to carry the democratic principle into every aspect of our parenting though...

I am a dad!

On Saturday, at 9.59pm, a baby girl came into the world.

At the same time, other babies were being born across the globe.  This one is perhaps no more special or precious than any of the others.  There is one small difference though - little Xanthe Aaliyah has me for her dad.

Becoming a dad took me by surprise. It was one of those things that I always would have liked but became resigned to never happening.  There were reasons for this; suffice to say that Xanthe is in some ways a minor miracle.

Being a former medical student, I've seen a number of children being born.  However, the knowledge and experience that ultimately gives doesn't entirely prepare you emotionally for the time when it's your own baby.  I'm naturally quite an emotional person and, while it was wonderful to have stayed with Anna the whole time, it was mentally exhausting.

Now I hear the women among you telling me that's nothing compared to what you go through and I know you're right.  But it's still an amazing emotional rollercoaster for any dad who's present.

I am still experiencing a range of feelings two days on, but mostly tiredness.  I expect these sleepless nights are here to stay (for the foreseeable future at least) and in the next few weeks we need a bit of time to adjust to this new reality.  So I'm guessing blogging will be kept to an absolute minimum.

For now, I'll stop writing and let the photographs to the talking.