back to school

A new semester starts tomorrow.

I feel like I’m going back to class too. While I guide students through the publication of the newspaper, I’ll be learning how to be a new person.

When school started last year, I was just a 20-something woman. By the end of the school year, I was pregnant with my first child. That first child turned out to be twins. This summer, I found out we were having boys. Twin boys. We got a nursery ready and bought clothes and other items.

And now I’ve seen the elephant. I’m a woman who had to choose a casket for her babies. I’m a woman who had to write the obituary for her only children. I’m that other kind of mother. I won’t have first days of school with these boys. They will never have school uniforms or favorite subjects.

So this semester, I’m learning the art of grieving. I’m learning to be this new person. Because I can’t be who I was before. I don’t even know who she was. What I know is I must live a life that honors my boys.

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