"At home"

I am a teacher.
When I came back to work after having my boys.
Having one-
Losing the other-
I expected the questions.
They came-
I answered-
And if felt right.

The next year as I introduced myself to a room full of excited second graders, I told them a bit about myself adding that I had a husband, two dogs, and a little boy at home.

Some how adding the 'at home' after I mentioned any living children seemed to be o.k. and no one really ever picked up on those two little words. I felt better for saying them and unsuspecting people sure felt better that I didn't have to put them in the awkward position of telling them the 'whole' story- that I had one at home and one in heaven.

As I told my students my story, one little girl rose her hand and said, "Yes- you have a little boy and you had another boy who died."

I was shocked that she knew- had remembered- perhaps heard from an older sibling- a neighbor-

"Yes. Yes I did."

And then the next question came.

"What was his name?"

"Andrew."

And another.

"Did it make you sad?"

"Very."

And that was where their questions ended about my son- and turned to my two dogs at home- a much more enjoyable topic for children who perhaps longed to have a pet of their own.

I thought about it- the questions hung in the air- but for them they seemed to evaporate- and so eventually I let those questions go- I kept the warmth from their memory- but I let them go- evaporate-

Until I heard from my principal- parents were mad- I was talking about my 'dead son'- parents were angry- and they wanted to confront me.

I was mortified. I didn't know what to do. I was not in the place I am now- I wasn't ready to talk about him and certainly not in front of a large group of people- what if I cried- I knew I would cry...

My story- a story that will forever impact my living children- that yes- babies do die- was now influencing these children, and I felt horrible for it- and even more horrible that the parents in that classroom would think that I would share such sorrow with their children. Share a piece of heartache with them intentionally. Suddenly those innocent questions- that innocent moment was forever tainted- tainted with some horrible connotation- with the shadow of death- and all that was bad- when really for me- in that moment- it felt healing- they remembered- they cared...

The parents never did confront me. I beat them to it. I sent a letter home explaining what had happened- the exact exchange that happened in the classroom and I apologized. I apologized for losing my son- and for their children to know my story-

It makes me angry now-

Six years later, my students don't know of Andrew- or even Baby "E" (Perhaps she had her appendix out...) They know that I love butterflies- especially the blue ones. They know that I have a fondness for heaven and they know that I have a husband, two dogs and four children "at home".

And that is where it ends.
And that is o.k.

So recently when one of my students found my family blog, with a link to these moments, I froze- and that moment so long ago came rushing back- though now six years later- more secure in my reality I know I would never apologize- not for two of the biggest blessings in my life that are no longer 'at home' but remain even closer- forever living in my heart.

I have been quite careful on here to not mention the blessings that I have "at home," though I know that many of you have read about those blessings on my other blog. Because that blog is no longer found through a search, if you would like to still read about those days- please send me an email or leave me a comment and I will send you the new address.

Thank you for reading, and thank you for seeing me for the mother I am. The mother of six. Six in my heart.

Hugs-
Laura