“I feel sick with worry because I am here, and she is there. Every single moment of every single day I see the potential behind my daughter’s beautiful brown eyes. My biggest fear is that others will not see the same things in her.”
‘When I send my daughter to school, it hurts. My heart skip beats. My cheeks are hot, tingly.’: Mom is ‘worried sick’ about daughter with disabilities being accepted at school
‘You don’t belong here and your color is awful!,’ a child said to my 5-year-old African American son on his first day of school.’: Mom worries for her adopted children at school this year, says despite ‘all the goodness, there is hurt’
“Before he even stepped foot into his new classroom, a child on the playground came up to him. At age 5, my son had to come home and tell our family this as we sat around the dinner table. I had to look away so he wouldn’t see my tears.”
‘The night before you send your kid to Kindergarten is a strange place. You’ll feel pain your heart hasn’t felt before.’: Mom reminisces about first days of Kindergarten, claims ‘you’ll survive this, too’
“You’ll study her face and worry. What if she gets lost in the hall? What if she doesn’t make a single friend? What if she doesn’t think about you at all? Does she know every sandwich, every pool day, every morning we snuggled in bed, I didn’t want to be anywhere else? It’ll feel like forever ’til you see her little face on that sidewalk, but I guarantee you, it’ll be smiling. She’s a different kid. She grew up today.”
‘My Son’s teacher recently friended me on social media. I came upon a picture of her holding a chalkboard sign that read, ‘I said YES!’ She’s already married, so it struck me as odd.’
“Until I read the caption. I couldn’t stop crying.”
‘In one swift moment, I will be forced to let go. I will loosen the white-knuckle grip on my son’s childhood, and let him go.’
“Today, after an emotional tantrum, my 5-year-old son curled up in my lap and buried his head in the crook of my neck. I felt his pain and sadness laying over me in a blanket of emotions, and I found myself crying too.”
‘I’ll be the mom crying on the first day of school, but my tears will be for a different reason.’
“Life threw my family a curveball, forcing us to navigate through a dark, grief-stricken road after two of our children died.”
‘You stand outside school with her, holding her hand just as tightly as she holds yours. What if someone is mean to her? What if she doesn’t make any friends?’
“Her backpack is filled with glue sticks, crayons and Kleenex. Maybe the teachers ask for Kleenex so you can sneak a few on your way out the door. She won’t let go of your hand, as if she’s silently asking you to guide her through this first leap.”
