Today was her first day at infant school.
Fact of the matter is, I should have done this particular 'first' twice over, once in 2013 and once last year.
I felt guilt at posting my pictures of her today, so grown up, so beautiful, so happy, to be going off to big school. Not out of guilt for my boys, there is only regret there, never guilt.
Guilt for my baby loss parents, because I know the anguish they felt with their social media pages taken up with the 'first day at school pictures' knowing they would never experience this joy with their child who has died. I know, because it was me last year. I understand the heartache, more than anyone and I almost didn't post the pictures out of respect and understanding.
But this happiness came at a price, it made the moment all the more precious. It didn't escape me that I should have 3 happy children, one entering Year 2, the other Year 1 and my baby into Year R and I did have 'I wish I could do that' moment.
But I know, as I was taking those pictures that there were two small boys around us, jumping for joy and full of pride for their baby sister. I just know because I can feel them.
The hardest part of today wasn't the sadness, or the guilt, or the 'I wish'; it was the stark realisation that today, Thursday 3rd September 2015, I was going to have to let her go.
Not completely.
For the last 4 years, 2 months and 11 days, its been me and her (and her daddy too) but mummies you will get me. I was the one who stayed at home so she was and is my whole world. I don't really count pre-school, mainly because she wasn't there full-time and in the end I had to pull her out of pre-school because of issues I had with the care. But now, she will spend 6 hours a day, in a world where I am not her centre, learning, growing, changing, forming friendships, and she will do all of this independently.
I want her to grow more confident, form best friendships that will last her whole life, enhance her love of books, just like me and her daddy, to get the most out of school. I have such fond and vivid memories of being at primary school. I can remember most of the teachers names, I am still in touch with my head teacher from primary school, I remember the lady who taught me to read, to discovering my love and intelligence for Maths; but most of all, I want her to look back and have the same fond memories as I do of my time at primary school.
There will always be guilt, there will always be sadness. I will always wonder what if, I should have, and I wish but I will always be thankful to have this moment.
