The Day I Left

I left for Florida today. You and Daddy dropped me off at the airport this afternoon. I had my bags, backpack, Promethean Expressions all around my legs. You were in the car, door open crying for me to pick you up. Arms outstretched. My heart broke in two as I told your father "I can't do this."

But I did.

I watched as Daddy closed the door and you cried. I waved as you drove off. I got on the airplane, flew to Tampa, checked into the hotel, called Daddy, got dinner, now back in my room. I missed Becca's prom pictures. I missed giving you a bath. I missed kissing you goodnight.

I can't do this.

But I am.

I'm in Tampa presenting at a professional conference for magnet schools. When does my professional career come before you? Should it ever? I have a struggle going on inside myself. Do I stay home with you full time? Go back to work full time? Being a part-time stay at home mommy and a part time technology integration specialist are well... conflicting. I should have tucked you into bed tonight. I should be there tomorrow to drop you off at the church nursery. But I am here. Can I be your mommy and a tech integration specialist at the same time?

I have never felt such a longing for anyone in my whole life, including your father. My chest aches, my stomach is in a knot, my back with shooting pains. It physically hurts to be away from you. I am in pain. I hope you are not. I don't know how a mother can abandon their child without getting sick. Will this feeling of dread ever leave my stomach? My back? My chest? Will it lessen as the days wear on? I want to be in the bedroom right next to yours. I want to hear you breath, the hypnotic rhythm that lulls me to sleep.

5 days until I return to you. Until I can hold you again in my arms. Until I can feel your morning yawn wash over me. Until I can smell your hair and feel your face buried in my neck. Until I can see that toothy grin or that tongue sticking out in playful banter.

I miss you. I miss you. I miss you.

I am surviving.... barely.