Back to school

Back to school. It's always bittersweet saying good-bye to summer, but this year it is particularly hard. My head was wrapped around taking a year off, snuggling our new bundle of joy, enjoying the freedom to volunteer at the girls' school or chaperone field trips, while relishing the pleasures of a slower paced lifestyle. After 4 months of searching for a long-term sub to no avail and being hit with a few realities of life, my return to work has been moved up. I find myself struggling to find the mindset that I need to enter back into a school year that promises professional fulfillment and growth. Instead of talking myself through goals and creating a great work environment, this morning I found myself bent over the toilet bidding farewell to my breakfast and talking myself out of a panic attack.

I am trying to focus on the positives. I will get in the right mindset. I will push myself to be the teacher that my students deserve. God's mercy will get us through the coming fall. Mark reminded me that today would be the hardest...and each day will get easier from there. By accepting that I am back at work instead of taking the year off, it's like somehow accepting that Will is not going to survive, neither of us are ready to accept that yet.Today was rough, but the end of the day came. Success.

Before leaving for school I mentally prepared myself for the questions on why I am back. As much as I wanted to just go through a "normal" day, I know that the sooner I face the fact that I work with some wonderful people and their prayerful, loving hearts are programmed to reach out and want to offer support, the less anxiety will come with being at school. I look forward to the day when people are open and honest with their questions and stop talking and whispering about our situation, or worse making up their own ideas of what they think we are experiencing. Most of all, I look forward to the day when people stop avoiding me because they just don't know what to say or do. Our palliative care team warned us that by choosing to carry Will to term we would be walking a lonely road. They provided more books and literature than we could ever have time to read. I read the chapters on grieving the loss of a child. I scoffed at the chapters about grieving the loss of your friends. I'm new to this journey...our team is not. It is a possibility those chapters may be my most helpful as it has been a lonely journey, indeed. It is a learning curve on who can handle certain information, who needs to know that information, and who we should steer clear of for a while.

What I know today...Our first job is to protect our child. To us, that means sharing him with those who love him and will also work to protect him. We have been quiet with his diagnosis because we don't want him to be known by a label. He is Will. Period. Today I learned that some think because we are keeping some information private, we are making it all up. Refer back to my statement on needing to read the chapters on how to grieve the loss of friends.

Tomorrow is another day. Each day, professionally, will get better. I am lucky to be surrounded by some amazing people at work and inspired by the faith and love of many of them. I am thankful to be a part of this faith-filled community and continue to pray that we can navigate this journey with grace. I am praying for a shift of focus where I can clear my head long enough to work towards making this a wonderful school year for my students, as my students have always created wonderful school years for me.