It seems like just yesterday I gave birth to our beautiful boy after years of heartache and disappointment, and yet it seems like a lifetime ago, in the early hours of the 16th April, that I found out Noah had got a place at our first choice primary school.
Back in April the relief was overwhelming that he’d got a place, in the days that followed I found out that every single one of his bestest friends had all got a place there too (barring a couple of exceptions) which only heightened this relief.
Back in April, September was a million miles away. Now here I am, on the eve of my beautiful boy’s big day, writing this post holding back the tears having just ironed his uniform and packed his bags for the first time in a thousand times to come.
Noah is super excited about this new adventure and I know that he is well equipped to start this journey, but I find myself struggling with conflicting thoughts and emotions. I’m excited, and apprehensive. Happy, and sad. I’m aware it’s a big school and although I know he’s confident enough to stand his ground, I’m terrified it’ll knock the wind out of his sails and he’ll lose that confidence. That he’ll lose himself, somehow.
The little boy I have had total responsibility for I am now having to entrust into the care of people I don’t know and I’m scared they will damage him in some way.
I suppose the crux of it is that this is the start of him being truly independent, of growing up, of not being my baby anymore and for that I weep but I will endeavour to hold back my tears and fears tomorrow morning and I’ll settle him into his new classroom with all the excitement I can muster, I will likely sob when I turn my back on him, but that’s fine, that’s on me.
So here we are, on the eve of a very special day in my baby boy’s life.
I’m not sure I’m going to be getting much sleep tonight.