Throughout my pregnancy, I was expecting a male and the possibility of having a daughter never occurred to me. When the ultrasound results were inconclusive and they remarked, “sort of like a boy,” I was relieved. During the second ultrasound, I discovered it was a girl. I was sad and didn’t know what to do. I sobbed, had tantrums, and even drove my spouse insane. For a week, I didn’t speak to anyone.

Then I let it go; she is, after all, my daughter. My husband and I began to consider what name would be appropriate for her. Liza, his daughter from a previous marriage, is a lovely name that complements both her last name and her father’s. It worked so wonderfully that anything else we tried appeared to make our daughter worse. My spouse insisted on Miroslava, but I was not a fan. It didn’t sound right to me, and I didn’t like it. We battled about it until the very last second before the baby was born.

Then we decided to wait and see what happened. We reasoned that whichever name fits her when she is born would be her name. We returned home on the fifth day, still without a name, after she was born safely. We wanted to scream at our relatives for their wonderful name recommendations, but we restrained ourselves. We looked at our tiny girl for a week, trying every name one by one, even going through lists, but we couldn’t decide.

“What about Marusya?” I said at one point. What do you think of this historic Russian name?” He consented, most likely because he was sick of debating. Early in the morning, he headed to the registrar office. When he returned the birth certificate, there it was: Marusya. Marusya, neither Maria or Mar’ya.Or should I say Marusya was not what he meant; he must have misspoken or been misunderstood. Regardless, Marusya’s name was on the certificate.

I protested to the registrar office and sought adjustments. They informed me that the documents had already been issued and that there was nothing they could do. These paperwork are not like aspirin prescriptions, so modify the name appropriately, make an application, and obtain guardianship approval.And now, over a year has passed in this bizarre dream. I want to alter the name, but I no longer like Maria. We call her Masya, Musya, or Murka. Is she, however, our child? When it comes to dealing with paperwork, I start crying. Isn’t it time to make a decision? What are your thoughts?