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Dear Care and Feeding,

My friend “Ashley” and her husband exhausted their savings on three rounds of IVF without success, then set up a crowdfunding page to keep trying. I was pregnant with my own third child (now an infant) at the time, and my heart went out to them when I heard her lamenting that almost no one was donating. My husband and I had the money to spare, so with his agreement, I anonymously donated the balance. Ashley and her husband did another round, got pregnant, and are now expecting a baby girl.

I was absolutely thrilled … until I heard the unique name they’re planning to give her.

But I grew up with an awful first name that I desperately wanted to change. I battled my parents about it from ages 10 to 12 and finally was able to change it through a guardian ad litem at 16, because I was legitimately afraid it would lower my chances of college acceptance. I want to spare this innocent little girl from going through what I did. I want to confess privately to Ashley that I was the anonymous donor who made her daughter’s existence possible, and beg (not demand, but beg) her to reconsider this name, or at least use it for the child’s middle name, and choose a nicer first name.

On a scale of one to 10, with one being slightly presumptuous and 10 being deserving of lifelong exile from polite society, how bad would this be?

—Anonymously Appalled

Dear Appalled,

I Reported My Colleague to HR. Somehow It Made Every Single Person at Work Turn on Me. When I Picked My 8th Grade Daughter Up from a Coed Party, I Was in for a Shock. My Idiot Brother Just Gave My Toddler the Most Disgusting Toy. This Isn’t Funny. Help! My Sister and Her Little Girl Are in a Shelter. They Could Easily Live With Me, but Only Under One Condition.

I’m going to give this a six. While I wouldn’t exile you for sticking your nose into Ashley and her husband’s private business (and, by the way, if I’m issuing grades, I’m going to give Ashley herself a two and a half for telling people what she plans to name the baby before she’s born, because that is just begging for trouble), I can guarantee that no good will come of your doing so. It doesn’t matter what you think of the name she and her husband have chosen for their child. It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks of it. Your generous contribution to her pursuit of this pregnancy did not buy you the right to weigh in—in fact, conflating your donation with an entitlement undermines that generosity. (I’ll note that the decision you made in the first place to donate anonymously to your friend’s IVF fund was extra-generous of you—presumably you didn’t want your friend to feel beholden to you—but if you’ve changed your mind and now feel the urge to let her know the mystery donor was you, go ahead: It’s OK to want your friend to be grateful.)

I understand that you feel you must speak up because you so disliked the name your own parents bestowed upon you, and you believe that your experience gives you special expertise. But your experience doesn’t presage this child’s (besides, times have changed, and so have styles in child-naming). I’ll give you this much: If you can’t bear to keep your own counsel, if you truly feel you’d be doing your friend’s unborn daughter a terrible disservice by not speaking up, then you may say something like, “Ashley, I know this is none of my business, and I hope you know how much I love you and that this comes from a place of love—but the name you’ve picked out is a lot like the name I was given at birth. I changed it as soon as I was able to, but for all the years before that, having that name was very hard on me. I just feel like I have to mention this—forgive me.” Even this much may insult and anger your friend. So be prepared, and make sure you feel this is a chance worth taking.

—Michelle

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