What’s in a Name?

I often tell the story of how my son’s name came to be. From an early age, Mark always knew that he wanted a son named Thomas. It turns out, I was fond of the name as well. Tommie is a name on my mother’s side and coincidently, we were married in the University of Virginia Chapel, designed and built by Thomas Jefferson. So, when we found out in 2005 that we were having a boy, the name Thomas was a no brainer. Finding a middle name would be more of a challenge.

Let me backup a few years, before 2005, when we were struggling to start a family. For several years, Mark and I wrestled with fertility issues, spending an enormous amount of time, energy, emotional resources and money to have a child. Long story short, we were one of the lucky ones to get pregnant with a fresh cycle of In Vitro Fertilization (IVF). At 8 weeks we were informed that I was pregnant with twins and were over the moon. We had fought for so long to start a family and were going to have two babies! It’s a two for one deal, we told ourselves.

Every day that I threw up from morning sickness I chalked it up to a healthy pregnancy and could not wait until my next ultrasound to see my little peanuts. Unfortunately, at 13 weeks, we received the devastating news that one of the babies did not make it. What I experienced is called vanishing twin syndrome and is fairly common. It was a complete juxtaposition to look at one half of the ultrasound screen and see a healthy baby while the other half of the screen showed an empty sac, devoid of the life that had been there only weeks before. A second baby was not to be, and I was devastated and ecstatic at the same time.

As time passed, we grew more and more excited about the healthy baby boy growing bigger every day. Thomas was so active in my tummy, flipping from side to side and kicking my bladder. I would wake up at night, my belly jumping from the hiccups my baby boy would inevitably get, like clockwork, at 2:00 am every single night during the last month of my pregnancy.

When I was about 38 weeks pregnant we had not yet decided on a middle name for Thomas. We were torn on several options and could not make up our minds. One evening, Mark suggested that we consider a variation of my maiden name, which is Hardison.

“Why don’t we call him Thomas Hardy?” he said.

I loved the way the name sounded and it met our criteria. No more than two syllables, easy to spell and fairly simple. Let’s face it, with a name like Brandenburger, the kid needed a simple first and middle name.

After considering the name further, I decided to do a little research before making a final decision because what if we chose a name for our son and found out later that he shared that same name with a serial killer!? A quick internet search disclosed that Thomas Hardy was an english novelist and poet so we both breathed a sigh of relief. A novelist and poet, yeah, I can live with that. The name was really starting to grow on me.  I grabbed the baby name book that someone had given me as a hand me down. Curious, I thumbed through the book to see more about the meaning and history behind our son’s first and middle name.

I quickly found the chapter for the letter T and ran my finger down the page until I saw Thomas. My eyes scanned the description.

Thomas: The Irish form of Thomas, a biblical name meaning “twin”. 

Well, isn’t that just perfect?  I hurried downstairs to show Mark my discovery and we both smiled acknowledging that our son’s first name was absolutely perfect and would honor the baby that we lost.

Without further hesitation, I quickly found the chapter for the letter H, ran my finger down the page until I saw Hardy. My eyes scanned the description.

Hardy: A name of German heritage, meaning “bold, brave”. 

And that is when the floodgates opened and the tears rolled down my cheeks. He was the brave twin that had persevered and powered through to make me a mom. Thomas Hardy was the perfect name and I was absolutely smitten.

Thomas loves to hear the story of how his name came to be and I think he’s pretty proud of how representative it is of who he is as a person. He is aware that he was a twin and he knows how hard his parents fought to bring him and his sister (six years later and another round of IVF) into this world.

When I reflect back on just how challenging it was to bring this boy of ours into the world, I am reminded of how hard he has had to fight to fit in, find happiness and be included. I can’t help but see the parallels with Thomas’s most recent passion, wrestling in high school.

Wrestling is one of the oldest forms of combat. It’s origins go back 15,000 years over many different cultures such as the ancient olympic games and Pharaonic Egypt.  Early British settlers in America found wrestling popular among Native Americans. It is not a sport I have ever followed or paid much attention to until my son showed interested several months ago.

When Thomas entered high school, a good friend told us about the wrestling team at Godwin High School and encouraged Thomas to consider joining. Despite having no experience and knowing he would have a lot to learn, we assumed he would join the junior varsity team. So, we bought all of the necessary gear, supported him through practices and watched in awe as our son participated in one of the most transformative experiences of his 14 and a half years on this earth.

It turns out the varsity team did not have any wrestlers in Thomas’s weight class, so he was frequently pulled into varsity matches. Being the realistic parents we are, we anticipated hazing or teasing from the older boys and I worried how Thomas would take the criticism from his peers. To my surprise, there was none of that. The older boys took the younger boys under their wing, demonstrating moves and encouraging them to challenge themselves. It was an amazing experience.

His coach recently told Mark that our son was very “coachable” which is really all we expected of our boy. Being coachable is more about attitude than athleticism. It’s not easy to hear criticism even if it’s constructive. Our boy has certainly had his share of criticism over the years and I was struck by how much he respected his wrestling coaches, leaning in, making good eye contact, asking questions for clarification, inquiring how he can do better next time. I watched him celebrate along with his teammates when the other boys pinned their opponents. I saw him walk over and give a reassuring pat on the back of a teammate who had just lost a match. The tournaments were typically long weekend days and because of his weight class, he often finished wrestling earlier than the older, larger boys. Instead of leaving early, he chose to stay until the end, watching from the sidelines, his brow creased as he studied the moves and strategies of the older boys. In the evenings and weekends he would come home and watch youtube videos of college wrestling teams. Each night after a two hour practice I expected Thomas to come home exhausted, overwhelmed and resistant to homework. To my surprise, he was focused and rarely resisted our direction. Over the past four months, Thomas has lost more matches than he has won however, he has also had some great pins and throws (body slams) giving him the best self esteem boost any 14 year old boy could imagine. He wrestled juniors and seniors who were stronger, faster and more experienced and instead of giving up, he fought with every ounce of his body until the buzzer sounded.

Thomas Hardy has lived up to his name, this boy of mine. What’s in a name? For my son it is being brave and being bold and I have never been more proud of him.

Check out these pics of my Boy doing what he loves!