Lincoln is just a name that I've always liked. Whenever I thought of my future there was always a little girl, sometimes named Emerson, sometimes named Saryn, and sometimes just a face without a name, but no matter what, there was always a Lincoln. Before I became pregnant with you, I was pregnant two other times. Both times ending in a miscarriage and both times I was sure that it was my little baby Lincoln. I never made it long enough to know the gender, it was just a feeling. I was 100000% sure that I wanted a boy first and that that was what I would have.
Sometime in early March I was watching a television show and there was woman getting a pedicure with her two year old daughter, and it hit me, A boy?!!? Boys don't get pedicures, boys don't let you put ribbons in their hair and watch reality TV with you. Boys are lame... I need a girl.
A few days after I decided that if I was ever lucky enough to be a mom, I wanted it to be to a little girl, I found out that I was pregnant. For most women who have been trying to conceive, seeing a positive pregnancy test is one of the happiest moments of their lives. For me it was just a moment. I was happy, don't get me wrong, but I knew I could get pregnant. I knew that eventually I would have a positive pregnancy test but I also knew that being pregnant and having a baby weren't the same thing.
I did the math and figured out that you would be due around Thanksgiving. I regretted that action immediately. If this pregnancy didn't end the way I wanted it to, and I was due on say, September 14th, I probably would have forgot. September 14th would have rolled around and it would have been just an ordinary day, but Thanksgiving? Thanksgiving I would remember and it would join Christmas as another Holiday where I was reminded that I kind of blew at the whole baby making thing.
See, having a miscarriage is a process. It starts off with signs, like spotting and cramping, but the problem is that those things can also happen during a normal healthy pregnancy. So for days you can write them off and talk yourself into believing that you're alright, that your baby is alright. Then one day you know. One day the signs are only those of a miscarriage and as quickly as the journey started it's over. For my first miscarriage, the day I knew, it was just a day. So I talked to Pops about it and we went to the hospital to get checked out, I even called Keisha and my mom and because I was able to talk about it didn't hurt and it didn't leave an impression on me. It was sad but it was over.
The second one was different. The day I knew, I was in extreme pain and I just wanted to curl up in a ball, get highly medicated, and sleep the day away. But I couldn't, because even though to me it was the day I was losing Lincoln, for everyone else it was Christmas Eve.
Pops and I were in Indiana at your Grandparents house at their big Christmas Party. At the time, this was the only time he saw his family and I didn't want to spoil it for him and I definitely didn't want to ruin Christmas for the others. So, I kept it to myself. I went to the bathroom to change my blood soaked pad (sorry if TMI) during rounds of cards and pretended to be watching TV when I couldn't hold a conversation because of the pain. Keeping it to myself wasn't hard because well, that's what I do best. But it did make Christmas harder. I was scared that I would always associate Christmas with that miscarriage and with that feeling of loneliness and lost. I knew that I hadn't ruined that holiday for myself, I'm not that dramatic, but I knew I had changed it.
Pops and I found out you were a girl when I was 20 weeks along. I was elated but thinking of a girls name was difficult for some reason. No name sounded right to both of us. I wanted Emerson but Pops thought it sounded like a boys name. I can't think of any names he wanted, but I'm sure a "you're welcome" is in order.
One day I was reading a magazine and I saw the name Noelle. It stood out in a list of hundreds of names. Noelle. I liked it and I added it to the list. It didn't dawn on me until later that it meant Christmas but once it did I knew that was your name. I knew in those moments that I had changed Christmas again for myself. I knew I would no longer associate it with anything bad, how could I? 2011 was the year that Christmas came early and I couldn't have been more thankful.
