Baby Names
Choosing names for two people who don't exist yet is one of the strangest and most important things you'll ever do. Here's how I named Stella and Mia.
Naming a child is an act of enormous presumption. You're deciding, before they've said a word, what they'll be called for the rest of their lives. With twins, you're doing it twice — and you're also deciding how the names will sound together, how they'll feel as a pair.
How I Approached It
I made lists. Long lists. Names I loved, names I'd always liked, names that felt right for reasons I couldn't fully articulate. I said them out loud. I imagined calling them across a playground. I imagined them on a diploma.
The criteria were simple: names that stood on their own, names that worked together, names that felt like them even before I knew who they were.
Stella
Stella means star. It's classic without being old-fashioned. It sounds like itself — clear, bright, complete. When I said it out loud for the first time as a real possibility, it felt right immediately.
Stella is the louder one. The one who announces herself. The name fits.
The World Is Theirs
A real dad's guide to traveling with kids — blowouts, layovers, and all. Free instant download.
Mia
Mia is simple and strong. Short, easy to say, impossible to shorten further. It means 'mine' in some languages — which felt right for a child I had fought so hard to bring into the world.
Mia is the watchful one. The one who observes before she acts. The name fits her too.
Together
Stella and Mia. Two syllables each. Different sounds, different rhythms, but they work together. They sound like sisters.
I said them together for the first time in the waiting room of the clinic in Mombasa, two days before they were born. It was the first time they felt real. That trip to Mombasa changed everything.
Joseph Tito
Creator of The Dad Diaries. Gay dad of twins. Writing about fatherhood, surrogacy, and the beautiful mess of real life.