I feel like someone punched me in the heart.
How did this
Where has the time gone?
I am so happy for him to be able to go to school. See his friends. Have teachers that are excited to lead him. People I’ve gotten to know and trust. And I am grateful that my husband has a job that has allowed me to stay home with our son in these important years. Grateful I will be able to greet him at the end of his day and say “How was school?”
I am lucky. So is he.
But he’s our only. And this tough old duck has a lump in her throat the size of a basketball.
I’ve tried my best to be a mother, not a smother. I’ve had to set him free into the arms of the world and believe that he’d be okay.
We almost lost him twice before he was born, were told that if he did make it, he would be dead within three months at best. When I had him, he couldn’t breathe and his heartrate would’t stabilize. He was in the NICU for a week. After that, there was no way we’d try for another. Too scary.
We are lucky. I know.
I know I can’t stay at his school all day waiting for him. I know I can’t park out front with binoculars hoping for a glimpse. But Damnit, I’d sure like to!
Last year, I had this same feeling over kindergarten. My husband bought me this:
This year, I’ve enrolled in University and College. Yes. You read that right. And today, he bought me a laptop. It was that or another dog.
I’ll be okay. And my boy will soar. It’s all good. Right?
He just called me to his room. He can’t sleep cause he’s too excited.
Yeah, it’s all good.