I was meant to be a Simon.

All the scans back in the day had confirmed that I was meant to be a boy and my parents had already decided they would name me Simon. When I emerged as a girl they were stumped. Apart from the fact that my dad was hoping for some male companionship in his female-dominated home, they hadn’t prepared for this eventuality and no name had been prepared.

I could have been Donna, my dad’s preferred choice. But mum wasn’t so keen and I was Jewishly christened Caron. (Note the spelling is purely because my surname is Kemp and they didn’t want me to have two initials the same).

Anyway my point is this. Naming a child is quite a big deal. Unless you are one of the minority who might choose to change your name by deed poll, you’re stuck with it for life. So while it is quite an exciting decision to make and one of the more lighthearted and fun elements of the baby build up, there is a lot of pressure to get it right.

Nowadays you can seemingly name your child anything. Apple, Peaches, even Princess. But if you don’t want your child to disown you when they’re old enough to realise their name is highly ridiculous, you need to give this a bit more thought.

There’s no evidence that your name affects the person you become, but there’s no evidence it doesn’t either. I might have been a very different person if I had been called Donna. (There’s no denying I would have been a very different person if I were called Simon).

And what about family members? In Judaism you don’t name a child after someone alive. But there are, unfortunately, a lot of people who have died who mean a lot to me and my family and perhaps it would be nice to honour them. Problem is 80 or 90 years ago parents had a very different notion of what a nice name was. Am I meant to do the right thing and call my child something very old fashioned and downright ugly to please the masses, even though it might scar them for life? Or do I bite the bullet and ignore my ancestry, choosing modern names that in 80 or 90 years their grandchildren won’t want to know about?

This is all before I have convinced my husband that our child will NOT be named Juan Sebastian Lopez Dias, regardless of whether he is convinced it will therefore definitely make it as a pro footballer. Oh and on that note, Calel will not make him Superman and Spurs footballers are out of the equation.

And don’t even get me started on middle names...