Back At It

Tomorrow is the first official day of school for where I work.  No big deal....this will be the twelfth year I head into the classroom. I have done this twelve times before.  I am not at all prepared...not my classroom, not my lessons, not my photocopies.  Nothing.  But I am a veteran teacher with years of experience, lots of skill, and a calling to teach, so I will manage. The teaching part, that's easy.

The being in the school again, well, that's been kind of rough. 

As I sat around last week at our in service sessions, it occured to me that when I had been here last,  I was pregnant.  Inside of me a life was struggling to grow.  As I moved around the building, I took care to remember this little life inside of me, so desperately wanted, but destined to leave us.  As I cleaned up my classroom, I thought, "This time next year, you'll be in my arms."  And I thought I was cleaning up the room for the last time ever.

The remembrance of this fact, the fact that I had been pregnant when I was last at work hit me kind of hard.  I found it hard to listen to how fabulous everyone's summer breaks had been.  How relaxing!  How fun!  How joyous!  I thought of all the doctors appointments, the surgery I went to and managed alone that took my fourth child from me, of my aunt's cancer treatments and my own breast cancer scare, my chest pains and anxiety, my impatience with Builder Boy, and all the hours lost between appointments-and I was angry.  All of a sudden, out of the blue, it all hit me all over again. I lost my baby.  I lost four babies.  How did this become my life?

I'm not sure why the work environment brought it all back, but it did.  It's not a constant feeling, but just a nagging sensation of something being off.  Tomorrow will come, and I will face the day with purpose and fortitude because I have to.  These feelings will wear off like they have at home, in the car, or when telling others about our struggles, but that won't stop that nagging sensation of the swelling belly I would be sporting now or the new maternity clothes that would be working their way into my wardrobe.  Perhaps once I make it through the nine months that would have been, I can shake off this feeling of missing something. Until then, did I leave the oven on?  No?  Hmmm...did I forget to lock the door?  No? 

Oh yeah, that's right, I lost my baby. 

 

 

Comments

[Heidi]

Many hugs!