Two honey sandwiches, hold the crusts

My darling Willow,

I can't quite believe that we are here. Tomorrow, you are starting school.

I've just packed your first school lunch box - two honey sandwiches without crusts and one packet of tiny teddies that you've had your eye on all week (since we bought them together at the supermarket and I told you that they were for your school lunch box).

I'm feeling emotional. All the feelings (the guilt, the pain, the fury) that I like to pretend that I have dealt with and packed away, come rushing back at times like this. Five years have passed but the hurts still feel brand new and just as searing.

I'm worried about how you will cope at school. School is a milestone for all children and yet for you I know it will be so much "more" (like the rest of life). I worry about you being confused by all the words, instructions and noise. I worry about you being unable to keep up. I worry about you being rushed and pushed about by the other children who will find you slow and cumbersome. I worry about you struggling to communicate and people making fun of the way you speak. I worry about you feeling small, scared, lost and alone. I worry about you crying in frustration and having no-one to comfort you. I worry about you curling up in a ball and shutting out the world in an effort to survive. Most of all, I worry about you losing your beautiful, glowing self-confidence and innate self-esteem.

I'm also angry. Angry that it has to be this hard for you. Angry that you have not qualified for ANY educational support. Angry that you have been left to fend for yourself whilst coping with a significant disability. I'm angry that the educational psychologist has not delivered her report to the school and has thus made it so much more difficult for your teacher to prepare for your arrival. I'm angry that despite my best efforts, not everything has been done that ought to be done to ensure your transition to school is as kind, gentle and understanding as possible. I'm pissed off that people who promise fail to deliver and my hopes are dashed over and over again.

I must confess I feel guarded, wary and dark these days and at times my anger feels too big to contain. I've lost my faith in the world at large... but please know that I've not lost my faith in you and I never will. I'm so proud of you - of where you have come and where you are going. Raising you is the hardest thing I've ever done. Sometimes I fight the responsibilities that come with being your mother. I feel ashamed of myself at these times and I am sorry that I am not more gracious in accepting what "is". I promise I will get there. If it is hard for me, it is so much harder for you. I might not have chosen this path, but you didn't either.

I love you, my precious little one. Don't let the world change who you are. You are perfect, inside and out.

Mummy xxx