Back, part 1

Today I go back.  Back to work.  I think I am feeling ok.  I have a little pit in my stomach and I have been up since 4:00, but I AM OK.

One of the things I worry most about is Lilly.  This will be the first time that she will have been away from me "all" day.  The last two Thursdays I have taken her to her regular baby-sitter so she could get back in the habit of being away from me, but even that was for less time than on a normal teaching day.  We are also in the midst of going "nap-free" because Lilly quit wanting to go to bed at a decent time.  (I might re-instate it, though.  She gets pretty raunchy about 3:00 in the afternoon.)  I know all this transitioning has been rough on her.  We were about to put her into a "big girl" (toddler) bed right before we got the final prognosis, but it was suggested to us, for Lilly's stability, to not make any BIG changes to her regular routine.  That would have been a pretty big one, so we put the bed back out in the shed and she just stayed in her crib.  But we think she is ready now.  She has actually slept on the floor (thanks for introducing that concept to her, Lizzy!) the last three nights and done really well with it, so I think the bed will be less of a worrisome transition than I thought.  Anyway, I have digressed quite a bit...

So I am planning on being really open with my students about Stella.  I know that many of them were just as excited about me having a baby as one of my own children would have been.  I got some really sweet notes from them after I went back to school.  One of my students is on the autism spectrum.  His note to me included this phrase:  "I'm sorry for the inconvenience of losing your daughter."  It made me laugh and cry at the same time!  But I want my students to know that I am OK and they can be OK, too.  

I want them to talk about her, ask about her.  I know in their 9/10-year old minds, death is still a hard concept to grasp (heck, it's hard for me to grasp at 31!), and I don't want them to be scared of it.  I want them to know that I love Stella and I love them.  I want them to know that it OK to cry, and it's OK if the questions they ask make me cry.  I need to mourn with them, too!  I look forward to showing them pictures of her.  I want to read them our story.  

I want to get a photo book done soon, so I can tell the whole story of her beautiful coming and birth!  Wow, this post is turning a lot harder than I thought.  I think I'm due for another good cry!  Thanks for being here with me.  

I love you, Stella.  I have to move on without you, again.  It sucks.  As much as I wouldn't want to be leaving you today, I wish that I could give you a kiss and a hug before I went back to work and know that I could see you when I got home.  I wish that I was having to go into the closet to pump so you would have milk to drink tomorrow.  I wish...   It would make it a whole lot more worth it.