Back to School

I took a very big step this week. I went back to the school where I have been volunteering for the past 4 years. I've talked about the process that lead up this big step here and  here.

Thursday was the big day back. I have to say, I was more nervous than I thought I would be. I got to the school a bit early and stood outside just taking it all in.

I was going back. My mind was swimming with old memories. The last time I had been at the school was in June. I was heavily pregnant and really struggled trying to walk up all the fights of stairs in this old Victorian school. I recalled saying good bye to the children, being surrounded by them all in a group hug. Their small hands reaching for my bump to say good bye to my baby and hoping to feel him kicking. I had promised to send them an email once he was born to tell them his name and send them a photo. I never thought that I would be coming back this year. I thought I would be too busy with my new baby to be able to. "Things are so much different than I ever imagined," I thought to myself as I rang the buzzer to be let into the gate.

I nervously walked into the school. As I was signing in, the receptionist greeted me in a way that let me know she was glad to see me but was also quite aware of my situation. I felt a rush of relief knowing that everyone knew and I wouldn't have to field any "How is the baby" questions. I started to climb the stairs leading up to the classroom. The classroom is on the second floor of the school (which would be called the third floor in the US)  and there are no elevators, so it's quite a trek. My first thought was how much easier it is to climb the stair when you're not 6 months pregnant.

My anxiety level rose with each step. Was I going to be able to do this? Would I cry? Could I hold it together?

Twice I had to stop in the stairwell to take some deep breaths and compose myself. "These kids love me," I reminded myself, "and I love them. It's all going to be OK." So I took a deep breath and walked out of the stairwell and onto the second floor. Within minutes I was spotted by one of the kids who was on his way to the bathroom. I was greeted with a big hug from the happy smiling boy.

Moments later another student peeked her head out of the classroom. They had obviously been expecting me. The next thing I know I am being swarmed by a group of happy 11 year olds. They came running out of the classroom to greet me. Again, I found myself being surrounded by them in a group hug. It was a wonderfully familiar memory. I could see on their faces that they really were pleased to see me. I was happy to see them too.

The rest of my time that day went well. They all wanted to show me their latest art work and tell me about the books they are reading. They asked me if I was just coming back just this one time or if I would be coming every week. They seemed quite pleased when I told them that they would be seeing me on a weekly basis again.

Interestingly, none of them asked about my son. I was told that they were given a script of things that they could say to me, but none of them did. I suppose there will be questions down the line from some of them, and hopefully I will be ready to answer them.

I'm really happy that I took this huge and scary step. It has made me feel a stronger, and a bit more like my old self.