AITA for asking my son and DIL to not use the name of my dead daughter?

Losing a child is a heart-wrenching tragedy that leaves lasting scars, and the names we choose for our children can carry profound emotional weight. In this case, a 27-year-old woman recounts her deep-seated pain over a name that holds a legacy of loss. Fifteen years ago, she gave birth to Kerra, a daughter who passed away when she was only three months old.
The memory of Kerra is kept alive by the urn that sits on her family’s mantle—a constant, bittersweet reminder of a love that was lost too soon. Life moved on, and at one point, her daughter-in-law casually remarked that Kerra was a nice name, an offhand comment that might have gone unnoticed if not for later events.
The situation escalated when her daughter called, revealing that her son and daughter-in-law were planning to name their unborn daughter Kerra—knowing full well it would hurt. Shocked and overwhelmed by the resurfacing of old grief, she sat them down to express her discomfort.
Explaining that the name carries too heavy a burden, not just for her but for the memory of her lost daughter, she suggested it might serve better as a middle name. This led to an argument, with her daughter-in-law branding her an “inconsiderate cow.” Now, our OP is left questioning whether she was wrong to stand her ground.
‘AITA for asking my son and DIL to not use the name of my dead daughter?’
Names can be much more than labels—they can serve as vessels for memory, grief, and identity. Dr. Emily Lawson, a family therapist with expertise in grief counseling, notes, “When a name is chosen to honor a loved one, it becomes a symbol of that person’s life and the emotional legacy they left behind.
For those who have experienced loss, hearing or using that name can trigger a cascade of emotions that may be difficult to manage.” Dr. Lawson emphasizes that the decision to name a child is deeply personal and should take into account the emotional impact on all family members. In this situation, the name Kerra is laden with significance for the OP. It represents a daughter lost too soon—a reminder of a profound personal tragedy.
Dr. Lawson explains, “For a parent who has endured such a loss, the use of that name in subsequent generations can feel like a reopening of old wounds, especially if the intent is not to honor but rather to simply choose a name because it’s liked.” This perspective highlights that the OP’s discomfort isn’t about controlling others’ choices in a general sense; it’s about protecting a memory that is sacred to her.
Furthermore, Dr. Lawson advises that sensitive topics such as these require open, compassionate communication. “It’s crucial that discussions about naming a child, particularly one tied to significant loss, occur in a private, respectful setting. Public confrontations can exacerbate the pain and make it harder for all parties to process their emotions.”
She suggests that, if approached with empathy, the family might find a compromise—perhaps by using the name as a middle name or finding another way to honor the memory of the deceased child without imposing the emotional burden on the new generation. Ultimately, her stance is that while no one owns a name, the emotional legacy attached to it deserves careful handling and respect.
Take a look at the comments from fellow users:
Overall, the Reddit community overwhelmingly supports the OP’s decision. Many commenters agree that since the name Kerra carries deep personal meaning and is tied to the memory of her deceased daughter, it shouldn’t be used casually for another child. They argue that her son and daughter-in-law should have consulted her before deciding on such a significant name.
Some users point out that if they truly valued the memory of her daughter, they would honor her feelings instead of choosing the name out of personal preference. While a few voices mention that names are ultimately a personal choice, the prevailing sentiment is that the emotional weight of the name makes it inappropriate to use without thoughtful consideration. In essence, the community feels that the OP is justified in protecting her family’s legacy.
At the heart of this dispute lies the challenge of balancing personal grief with the desire to move forward. The decision to name a child is not merely about aesthetics; it’s about preserving a legacy and managing the complex emotions tied to loss. Our OP’s decision to refuse the use of the name Kerra is rooted in a deep need to honor her deceased daughter without reopening old wounds.
What do you think? Is it fair to protect a sacred memory by restricting a name, or should family members have the freedom to choose names regardless of past loss? Share your thoughts and experiences in the comments below—how would you navigate this emotionally charged situation?