Maybe Hazel, Maybe Not--Part I

hazel 

O.E. hæsl, hæsel, from P.Gmc. *hasalaz (cf. O.N. hasl, M.Du. hasel, Ger. hasel), from PIE *koselo- "hazel" (cf. L. corulus, O.Ir. coll "hazel"). Shakespeare ("Romeo and Juliet," 1592) was first to use it (in print) in the sense of "reddish-brown color of eyes" (in reference to the color of ripe hazel-nuts), when Mercutio accuses Benvolio of being testy with:

Thou wilt quarrell with a man for cracking Nuts, hauing no reason, but because thou hast hasell eyes

from the Online Etymology Dictionary

Good morning, MH!

Why do I write "Maybe Hazel?" You probably want to know why I'm being wishy washy about the whole naming business. Naming a baby is a monumental task! I started the deliberation process like any good geek girl would do, and I created a Google spreadsheet, with columns devoted to boy names, girl names, meaning/etymology, and a place for people to offer feedback. (Isn't this what everybody does?)

At first, I really was drawn to Poppy. You were my little poppy seed, after all, when I found out I was pregnant. But then, I worried that it sounded a lot like Papi, and I didn't want anyone teasing you with "Papi Chulo" references.

Also on the list: Alice and Jane and Claire . . . I find myself drawn to these names that have a bit of an old-fashioned flair. But, Hazel kept popping to the top of my list. I really do love that name.

This is the flowering shrub from which your name is derived. 

The last time Hazel was super popular was at the turn of the century (the 18- to 1900s, not the 19- to 2000s). Your name also means "commander," and the hazelnut is supposed to be a source of wisdom. Hazel branches are filled with magic and protection. And we'll have lots of fairytales that involve hazel-ish references.

FYI, I'm a word nerd. 

As for the Maybe . . . well. I have had FOUR ultrasounds, two of them at the ER. How rad was it that on the very first one, at 10 weeks, you raised your hand and waved at me? That made me cry. A little hello from barely-formed fingers. Too early at that point to determine gender. And then, at 20 weeks . . . a tech who was anything but certain. Her final answer was, "I'm pretty sure it's a girl." Ummmmm . . . And then, my third ER ultrasound, the doctor's final answer, "I would say a girl, but I wouldn't guarantee it." And the fourth, the doctor said (as I'm figuring out everyone does, as sort of a failed preemptive strike against postpartum crabbiness), "Don't hold me to it, but I'd say 'girl.'"

So. Maybe Hazel, but maybe not.