Bombay Mahogany {{Memories}}

:: Logan,

Hey baby boy. I had just typed this long elaborate post regarding this same Bombay Mahogany stain scent and how it reminds me of you....but it got lost, never published. As frustrated as I am over this, I decided that the most important part of the post was my letter to you. This stain reminds me of you, my darling. I have very few memories with you, which saddens me, but this stain reminded me that I do have some memories, and those are worth cherishing. Your daddy is finishing the staining project on the changing table and rocker we bought when we were pregnant with you. He had started the project back then, but when you decided to come early, the project got left to the wayside. I used the rocker, half done, for the past 2 years. The same rocker that I would sit and rock and read to you while you were in the womb. I miss those times with you. I shed quite a few tears in that rocker too. That rocker and I have quite a history and quite a connection. Daddy is finally finishing the project because your baby sister will be born in 3 short weeks! While daddy was staining I decided to check in on him. As I walked into your sister's room a familiar {nostalgic} scent engulfed me. Bombay Mahogany Stain. Your room used to smell like that. Daddy and Pawpaw worked on the first coats of stain on the furniture then placed them in your nursery for safe keeping until the project could be continued. I remember painting the words on your wall and fire hydrant just below the light switch, that same scent filling my nostrils, engraving a memory that could never be erased. Do you remember that day? I don't know how intuitive you (or babies in general) are inside the womb. Do you at least remember my heartbeat, the one that beat so proudly with my love for you? I sang while I painted and you danced inside my belly. Daddy got a few pictures of that day. I remember that scent too from the many times I would sneak into the nursery just to sit and reflect, to dream about the day we would bring you home, to read to you in the quiet - book after book after book, and to sketch ideas of what the rest of your nursery would look like. Occasionally, I snuck into that room, sat in that half-stained-rocker, smelled that same familiar smell, and cried....tears of joy, confusion, nervousness, or just plain hormones!

I miss you, sweet boy. I miss your kicks, your punches, your handsome face that reminded me so much of your daddy. I miss the twitch that you would do in your sleep...just like your daddy does! I miss your heartbeat. I will never forget that sound....so strong...always.

Your baby sister will be born in 3 weeks. She will take her first breath, cry her first cry, and your daddy and I will be missing you and welcoming her consecutively, with all our hearts, in one swift moment.

I love you, my darling. Now and forever, your mommy I will be. Your are my firstborn, the son that made me a mother. I'm sending you hugs and kisses to the stars! My heart whispers your name every day. Bombay Mahogany stain...a memory that was always ours first.

Love always - Momma ::