Choosing a name for your child is one of the first ways you can express love, remembrance, or family bonds.
But what if your choice inadvertently strikes a painful chord with someone close to you, even though your intentions are far from hurtful?
This is the dilemma faced by a woman who, after losing her cousin Ingrid to cancer, planned to name her own daughter after her late cousin.
However, her longtime friend Camille, who also lost a baby named Ingrid, is devastated by this decision.

































Deciding how to name a child is one of the most lasting and meaningful choices a parent makes. Names shape identity, carry family history, and often link the past with the future.
In this case, the OP chose the name Ingrid to honor her late cousin, someone deeply special and beloved, long before her friend Camille ever shared that same name for her daughter who died at birth.
Yet Camille’s reaction, intense distress and feelings of betrayal, reflects something profound about how grief, loss, and name attachment interact in human psychology.
Names are not just labels; they are psychologically powerful anchors for memory and identity.
Cultural and psychological research shows that names can serve as continuing bonds, symbolic connections that help people maintain a sense of closeness with those who have died.
In a study of families who lost a child, most bereaved parents intentionally maintained connections to their deceased child through reminders, memories, and rituals, finding both comforting and discomforting effects in those ongoing bonds.
The practice of naming a newborn after a deceased person, sometimes referred to as a necronym, occurs in many cultures and carries deep symbolic meaning.
A necronym is a name given to someone born after another person has died, and its emotional meaning varies across contexts.
In some traditions, reusing a name honors the memory and prevents the loved one from being forgotten; in others, it is taboo or emotionally fraught.
Similarly, research exploring symbolic naming patterns (including naming children after deceased relatives) suggests that such practices can be a form of symbolic reincarnation, a cultural and personal attempt to carry forward connection, memory, or legacy across generations.
These practices are found in historical and contemporary contexts but are not universally experienced the same way psychologically.
The experience of losing a baby, whether through miscarriage, stillbirth, or infant death, is uniquely traumatic and can leave lasting psychological scars.
The concept of a rainbow baby captures this emotional complexity: these children represent hope after loss, yet their arrival can awaken unresolved grief, anxiety, and mixed emotions in grieving parents.
This does not diminish the joy of a new life, but reflects the simultaneous coexistence of joy and sorrow in human coping with loss.
Because of this, some bereaved parents may develop particularly strong emotional attachments to their child’s name.
While the OP’s cousin’s name Ingrid was an established personal tribute long before Camille’s loss, hearing that name associated with someone else’s child, especially a close friend’s, may unintentionally activate grief and feelings of pain, possessiveness, or identity loss for Camille.
This is not a rational claim of ownership over a name, but rather an emotional reaction tied to loss and memory.
Attachment to a deceased child’s memory is a well‑documented grief phenomenon. Many bereaved parents maintain ongoing symbolic relationships with their children through memories, rituals, or reminders such as names, photos, or anniversaries.
These continuing bonds can be comforting to some, but can also be reactivated with unexpected emotional intensity when reminded of the loss.
At the same time, naming a subsequent child after a deceased loved one, like a grandparent or cousin, is also common and can have deeply positive meaning for families.
Cultural traditions around naming often reinforce connections to family history and lineage. In some traditions, names are reused to ensure continuity and remembrance across generations.
The conflict here isn’t merely about a name; it’s about loss, memory, identity, and emotional boundaries.
For the OP, “Ingrid” is part of her personal history and a deeply meaningful tribute to her cousin who died. For Camille, the same name is tied to her own child’s absence and the unfinished emotional landscape of her grief.
These dual meanings coexist, and emotional reactions can be strong when two different grief narratives intersect around the same symbol.
Psychological research emphasizes that grief does not follow a universal timeline, and how people attach emotions to memories or reminders can vary widely.
Some find comfort in names, others find them painful reminders. Neither response is inherently “wrong”; they reflect individual emotional history and coping processes.
To navigate this conflict, it’s important to first validate Camille’s emotions by acknowledging her grief and the deep attachment she has to her daughter’s name.
Sharing the OP’s own reasoning behind choosing the name “Ingrid”, as a tribute to her late cousin with the full support of her aunt, can help clarify the intention behind the decision.
Offering space for Camille’s emotions to evolve while communicating openly about the name’s significance could ease tension, and expressing empathy without defensiveness is key.
Respecting each other’s boundaries and grief processes is crucial in preserving the long‑term friendship and maintaining mutual respect despite differing emotional connections to the name.
Naming a child is always personal, often emotional, and inevitably symbolic. In situations where multiple people attach deep emotional meaning to a name because of loss, conflict can arise not from malice but from overlapping grief histories.
The OP’s intention, to honor a loved cousin, is valid and rooted in longstanding meaning. Camille’s response, rooted in expected grief and memory attachment, is also valid.
Navigating these emotional landscapes with empathy, open communication, and respect for different grief experiences will help both parties feel heard and valued.
These are the responses from Reddit users:
This group defended the OP, arguing that the name Ingrid was already meaningful to them because it honored their cousin who passed away.
![Pregnant Woman Wants To Pay Tribute To Her Late Cousin With The Name Ingrid, Friend Calls It A “Horrible” Decision [Reddit User] − NTA. She already knew about your Ingrid when she chose her baby name. If anything, she stole the name.](https://dailyhighlight.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/12/wp-editor-1765792922405-33.webp)













These Redditors supported the OP’s decision to stand their ground, encouraging a blunt response to Camille’s complaints.











These commenters took a more cautious stance, expressing concern over the emotional toll the name might have on Camille.






These Redditors sympathized with both the OP and Camille, acknowledging that both were dealing with loss.



These commenters believed that while names are not owned, some situations make certain names off-limits due to the emotional ties they carry.


This comment expressed that while the OP technically had the right to use the name, they should have considered Camille’s grief and the emotional weight of using the name after the tragic deaths.










This is a deeply emotional situation for both parties, where intentions and feelings are tangled.
Was the Redditor wrong for choosing to name her daughter Ingrid, or should she have considered Camille’s emotions more deeply?
Can a name ever truly be “owned,” or is there room for multiple meaningful tributes? Share your thoughts below.










