I’ve started to write this no less than thirty times. Emotionally, I can hardly handle the fact my daughter is going to kindergarten.
I look at her and I fall between welling up in tears and being shocked about how much she has grown up… how far we’ve come.
Once upon a time, I had an overdue baby by two weeks. And that baby was in serious NICU care once she arrives. So much so she was sedated and placed on a ventilator for days.
I went home without her… for three weeks. It was shocking, strange, an uncharted territory in so many vast ways. She and I never knew any different and the magnitude of everything it was caught up with me much later: in those mounting moments, I was a shell of a human. Perhaps I was “okay” on the outside but on the inside… well I can’t actually remember anything. It’s a huge void for which I rely on journals and pictures to remember. And that’s exactly as it should have been because the priority was her life.
On top of major health decisions for her, healing for me and everything that comes with having a baby, I dealt with inquiries that, while the majority had the best of intentions, were flat terrible. For example, the moment I stepped out of my husband’s truck my neighbor met us in the driveway expecting to hold and meet this perfect little baby. What do you say?
In her defense, she happened to be home that day and had no clue. I have no memory of what I said or did – I probably just kept walking. I know I was back at that hospital after I was able to change clothes. And in all honestly I can’t blame a person for wanting to do those things and asking where she was… I wanted to see her and hold her too. (Sorry for whatever I did neighbor, I wasn’t in my body.)
Soon after the emotions of feeling robbed from a normal infant experiences began; returning to work just over 3 weeks after bringing her home contributed greatly. And I must note, I was the most fortunate employee in the world with a manager who went above and beyond in supporting me in everything we had been through; “thanks” would never even begin to cover it.
Eight months later the opportunity presented itself for me to become a stay at home mother and I jumped all over it. And it has been the most challenging, best thing that has ever happened to me.
And in some strange way, after initially working so hard to get her home from the hospital, after witnessing miracle after miracle for her, after planning, lifestyle changing and so many “adulting” team decisions with my husband to create this little life of ours, I feel like it is coming to a close.
Don’t get me wrong: clearly I’m still her mother and we have time together.
It’s just the fear of the unknown, the “she’s not at home with me” thoughts begin to rear their ugly heads just as it did five years ago. “Where is my baby? Why is she not with me? Why is this happening (to her).”
I know I’m not alone in that feeling whether or not you are a NICU mom as well.
The unknown is scary. I don’t believe it’s lack of trusting a bigger plan; but I do believe that having a sense of control is comforting and that’s where I flourish, especially with her. “I am with you, I know you are safe, I know you are healthy, I know you are breathing” are invaluable: feelings I wasn’t sure I’d ever have.
I trust our teachers. I trust our school. I trust her. I’m learning to trust against my feelings that have taken me captive for years and I didn’t even realize I still had.
I knew we had five summers together before this time. I knew your birthday was at the cutoff and that we would be granted just a little more time at home than most. I knew this time was coming.
So as you start kindergarten, my darling, I feel as the mother bird pushing you out the nest in more than just the traditional way. You’re ready to grow, learn and evolve and I’m so excited for you! You’re meant to wonderful things and this is merely a stepping stone for you. And we feel we’ve played and picked the very best opportunity cards for you!
And as for your mother, well maybe she will finally start to gather closure on a time that was harder than this; whatever remnants that shell of a human left behind has begun to fill with emotions I didn’t deal with then and I am now.
Maybe closure for a chapter in your life is coming at the same time as mine (kindergarten). Perhaps it was sooner, perhaps it was later. Perhaps your motherhood is completely different and you don’t have an emotional tab to cover. Our life healing triggers are all different, necessary and perfectly timed in their own way no matter the subject.
Isn’t it all about time?
10 months pregnant. 3 weeks NICU. 8 months daycare. 5 short summers. Almost 5 full, short years.
It is time to pack that first day backpack “baggage” and unload mine.
