What's in a name? Part Two

I thought What's in a Name? would be an incredibly clever title for this post, but when I started to put it in, the cookies told me I had already used it. I guess it's too much to ask to be clever and the-opposite-of-forgetful at the same time. That post was about naming AnnaWen; the loving, heartfelt, soul searching process of choosing the perfect name for our new and perfect daughter. This post is an account of the blood, sweat and tears process of Naming AnnaWen.

When completing the travel arrangements and collection of endless but essential paperwork we had to bring to China, our agency contact warned me "when you pass through immigration, make sure he spells her Canadian English name right, or you'll have an additional process to follow to change her name once you're home". My response was something like "great, after travelling half way around the world with a grieving, culture shocked toddler who does not share my language, I have to be on the ball enough to avoid disaster with the gov'tal officials?" Lovely.

We passed through immigration in Toronto, and the process was not nearly as painful as I had feared. Someone directing traffic put us and our travel mates to the front of the line because we were adoptive families each with an immigrating child. I'm not sure why we were given priority, but after a 13 hour flight and on my 25th consecutive hour without sleep, I took it with no questions. The gentleman reviewing our immigration paperwork was indifferent. He said what he needed to with minimal syllables and no smile, and asked Steve to sign off. When we went up to the desk, I had said to him "I was warned about making sure her name is written correctly in the forms you will complete so we don't have to go through a process to change her name later". He looked at me blankly and said the agency was wrong, there was no process there to change her name, that we'd have to do that separately once we were home. Huh? He was clearly right, so why argue with him, especially in a federal office lined with bulletproof glass and guards with guns.

With my two weeks parental leave, I spent several days running around to complete more paperwork to secure Wen's existance in Canada; health card, SIN card, immigration and change of name. The SIN people told me to go to Vital Statistics in downtown Halifax to fill out paperwork to change her name. Does anyone know how hard it is to park in downtown Halifax? Wen and I went down and waited for 40 minutes for our number to be called. We were to have our paperwork completed before taking a number, but I couldn't find an application that seemed appropriate anywhere. I brought with me the folder of all of her documents that we had taken to China and back so that I'd have anything they needed for the application. I thought it would be a matter of filling out a form "I want to change OuYang, Chun Wen to AnnaWen Mary Chun Sampson" signed "her mother". Yeah right.

When our turn came we went to the window and I said why I was there. The woman looked at me like I was incompetent and said I had to publish the intent to change her name in the Royal Gazette. I was dumbfounded, and not very nice. WHAT? I think I may have even said "That's retarded". She took me by surprize. She gave me the address of the Royal Gazette, a change of name application, a birth certificate application (to document processing the fees) and a page explaining how to put it all together.

I went from that office to the Royal Gazette to post my intent. I filled out a form that built the ad that announced I was proposing to change her name from OuYang, Chun Wen to AnnaWen Mary Chun Sampson. I paid my $26 to the Minister of Finance (starting to smell something?) and was promised a copy of the Gazette in two days.

Two days later I was in the Valley with the daycare and my kids so I wasn't able to pick up the Gazette and take it to Vital Statisitcs. Wanting it to be done asap, I sent Steve. I gave him an evelope with a cheque, the application, the b.cert application and instructions written on the outside as to where and from whom to pick up the Gazette and where and to whom to drop off the application. He said it went smoothly except for the point where he asked for a second copy of the Gazette. We both figured that since we were paying money to publically announce something about one of our children, we'd like to have a copy of it to keep. Apparently they only print as many copies of the Gazette as there are people needing a copy. While the name "The Royal Gazette" may fool you into thinking it's a newspaper or other circulated publication, it's a stapled print out on 8.5x11 paper of everyone changing names, filing for bankrupcy and other personal matters that are deemed public by the gov't (who then charges $26 each to publish their demanded announcement). They didn't want to give Steve an extra copy for us to keep.

Steve also took the folder of paperwork with him to Vital Statistics and dropped the application off without complication. The next morning, the phone rings and it's Vital Statistics calling. The person putting together our application called to inform me that Steve did not give her a birth certificate for AnnaWen. I argued that we didn't have one and she said he should have given her a copy of the immigration paperwork. I fended off her accusation by reminding her that he did not know what paperwork she needed, that she hadn't asked for it and that had she done so, he actually had it there with him just in case. Regardless of who was at fault, the fact remained that I now had the task of getting the original of that form to her by getting into the city through rush hour traffic and construction and back out again to get to the Valley for a doc appt with my grandmother. Oh yeah, with four kids in tow. I ended up taking the folder of paperwork to the mechanic - the closest trustworthy drop off point into the city I could get before traffic and construction so that Steve could pick it up after the traffic and take it back down to Vital Statistics. Mission completed.

Or so I thought. When we got home from swimming last night, there was a message from Vital Statistics on the phone. I called her back, hoping for good, dreading for bad. Apparently our paperwork still wasn't complete enough for her review. Steve sponsored Wen's immigration, but I applied for her name change with his permission. They now needed documentation to show that we were both her parents, and while I'm at it, proof that I've been a resident of Nova Scotia for at least a year. I'm afraid to say I lost it on her a little bit. I recounted how the whole process was rediculous to begin with, but that our personal process had been wrought with their mistakes and omissions that had cost us time and money. I reminded them that EACH time we had visited their office, we had had all of the paperwork needed, but they had sent us away without collecting what they needed. The woman heard my vent and agreed to accept a faxed copy of the documents she needed, this time, as she didn't want to inconvenience me. She asked if I had a driver's liscence and asked for a copy of the adoption papers. I laughed and said "I have four kids, do you think I need a license?" then warned her that the adoption papers were in Chinese. She asked if our names were English, I said "our names, our birthdates, HER name (ENGLISH name) and birthdate are all there in English, yes". I also offered up our Notice of Coming which is in English, has her name in Chinese and both of our names on it. She figured I should send that along just in case.

After some scanning and faxing I called to see if they arrived successfully. She was looking them over as I called and confirmed they had arrived, but was looking closely to see if they'd be sufficient. After a brief, thoughtful and silent hesitation she begrudgingly said "yes, I suppose this will do. I see your names, and her name, and I see here it says to be placed for adoption". She reminded me that it was good of her to be working late in an effort to get through a backlog they were experiencing and hoped we'd receive something "next week". Feeling I had been mean enough, I didn't suggest the backlog may have been caused by any incompetency on their part.

The pisser of the thing is I don't see the point in the process at all. I guess if I was getting divorced and changing my kids' names from their father's to be spiteful, or if our new daughter was a 17 year old with a history of juvenile delinquent-ism, changing the name should be evaluated. But to change a name of a 2 year old? Who exactly is going to see the Royal Gazette and voice an objection? They didn't send a copy to China. When I asked why we needed to publish it, lamenting that I hadn't had to do that for my own name when I got married, they said "that's different, you just assumed your husband's name". I don't see how it's different, we've brought her into our family, she should be able to assume OUR name without process and payment and everyone else's nose in it. I have a nagging suspicion that we're the victims of someone else's mistake - the immigration officer being uninformed or too lazy to do it properly? the vital statistics folks being too wrapped up in policy to see an exception? But at this point I just want it done and over with. We can't apply for her citizenship until she has her Canadian name (well, we could, but that would complicate matters exponentially in the future). And it's now it's done.

At least I hope.

N