Remembering...

Before I blogged I kept a journal in Word. This was an entry I had written approximately 6 years ago, when Blaine was 18 months old, shortly after Jennifer lost her son Coen. I always think about him and miss him most this time of year. How I wish he were here today. I wish he were finishing his first day of 1st grade. I wish he and Blaine had the same bond I have with my cousins, but I know he is in Heaven and we will one day see him again.

Laundry

It’s funny how a scent can bring back a rush of memories and completely take you from the present and place you back to a specific instant. This morning I was washing a load of Blaine’s clothes at my mother’s house. We were visiting while Brent was away working in New Jersey. As I poured the Dreft detergent into the wash I inhaled deeply trying to remember the smell of Blaine’s baby clothes. We had stopped purchasing the Dreft detergent once we realized that Blaine spent the majority of his days in contact with my non-Dreft cleaned clothing and slept on our bed sheets which were not washed in Dreft without every having any kind of skin irritation. My mom, however, still had a large bottle of the baby detergent from times we had visited over the last eighteen months which I loved to use while there. I didn’t even know there was a different detergent babies used until I received a sample in the mail, probably from one of the many websites I registered at before Blaine’s birth, specifically for the coupons. Once I was educated on this fact I promptly bought my first bottle of Dreft detergent. When it came time for me to wash Blaine’s clothes about two weeks before his birth I was able to smell for the first time the new scent I would soon associate with my baby.

As I closed my eyes this morning and inhaled the Dreft I could clearly remember the day I decided to wash all of Blaine’s baby clothes, bibs, burp clothes, wash clothes, blankets and sheets. We lived on the second floor of our apartment in Carlstadt and did not have a washer or dryer in our eight-apartment complex. That day I loaded up about two or so baskets with all the washable baby items I possessed and began the trip to the laundry mat trying to balance the baskets on what little bit of hip I had left. I somehow maneuvered myself with my basketball tummy and extra forty pound down the narrow and twisting staircase into the brisk winter air. I didn’t mind the cold by that point; I was always hot once I reached the third trimester so the New Jersey winter did not bother my otherwise cold-natured self too much. When I arrived at the laundry mat I dreaded the thought of having to carry in each basket while carefully hopping, as much as a nine month pregnant woman can hop, over iced over snow spots and then hold open the door with one hand as I crammed myself and my baskets into the mat. I never knew if I would get lucky and someone would see my struggling pregnant self and open the door for me or not. I decided not to chance it and just parked in the fire lane. I am normally such a law abiding citizen that to this day I must still feel guilt about parking there, although I often saw able-bodied people parking there. I had already formulated how I would inform any officer who might inquire as to my choice of parking what I would say. As I stepped from our large-family-friendly-SUV I noticed it had started to rain a little, one more good reason to justify parking here I thought. I quickly unloaded my baskets then jumped back in and parked in a legal spot.

By the time I finished washing then flipping the laundry to the dryer then folding and reloading the baskets into the car I was so exhausted, out of breath and had a terrible back ache. I remember thinking please don’t let this baby come until I can recoup and rest up from this very exciting adventure. Those days were full of anticipation and speculation. I really had no clue what to expect, but I was beginning to get excited about seeing what this little person growing inside of me would look and act like… As I closed the washer lid at my mother’s house I thought briefly about Jennifer. She too must have experienced these feelings as she prepared for Coen’s arrival. I wondered if the scent of Dreft brought back any memories for her, and then prayed that one day she too would have warm memories associated with the sweet, soft smell of baby detergent...

I am happy to say that now Jennifer does have a beautiful, smart, and full of life daughter. I am as proud of my niece as I am my own children and have had nothing to do with raising her. It must be simply because she is my niece. I am so happy for Jennifer and Josh. I know they miss Coen, but he will never be forgotten.