First Day

Liam Thomas.  First Grader.

This day has loomed, large and significant, for many years.  The first day of first grade would be a milestone for Liam, more so than the first day of kindergarten.  I’d thought about this day many times over the years but always with the awareness that it was far off, a ways a way, in some future time and place I couldn’t really fathom.

And then suddenly, yesterday morning, it was there.

I marveled all morning at how relaxed our morning felt.  Liam slept a whole 30 minutes later than he’d been able to on school days in the past.  And we still had 45 more minutes to get ourselves out the door. I glanced at the clock while I made breakfast and informed Liam that if he was still going to Child’s Voice the bus would have already arrived by now (or maybe not- the bus company wasn’t the most reliable…).

After finishing his cereal and apple slices Liam asked if he needed to get his shoes on.  I said no, he had some time to play, to which he responded, “Oh yea!  RyRy, do you want to go play?” and they were off, scampering to some imaginative world of their own creation.

I didn’t feel anxious yet, taking my cues from Liam who seemed remarkably calm and normal about this day which was A Big Day.  The only indication he carried any nerves about the day ahead had come at 1:30 am that morning when he came to my side of the bed weepy, claiming he couldn’t sleep.  I puttered him back to his bed and then climbed in with him, wordlessly wrapping my arms around him and holding him tight, an attempt to squeeze the anxiety out of his little body.  I lay with him until he was almost asleep then nuzzled his neck and slipped out of bed, saying another fervent prayer for a good day.

But now, as we ate breakfast and got dressed he seemed cheerful and excited about the day ahead.

We took our obligatory first day of school pics.  And then, with my mom at home to watch the girls, we set out to walk to school.

After years of taking a bus 45 minutes to school each day a 7 minute walk feels like a luxury.  He held my hand while we walked, not yet too cool for such displays of affection.  While we walked I felt the significance of this day begin to settle in me, a heaviness in the pit of my stomach.  I tried to understand why this felt so big.  It was not the full day aspect of first grade; Liam has been attending 7 hours of school daily since he turned three.  I wasn’t worried about his teacher or the academics; his teacher knew the ins and outs of Liam’s hearing loss and Liam himself was more than ready for first grade.  Was I worried about the other kids?  Worried that some brat would make fun of “those things on his ears,” a scenario I’d previously never had to contemplate as all the kids at his school had things on their ears?  Maybe, but first graders weren’t yet cruel really.  Maybe by third or fourth grade we’d need to steel ourselves for that.

As we got closer to school Liam got quieter and his grip on my hand a little tighter.  By the time we’d made our way to door 7 where all the first and second graders lined up to begin their day I saw the anxiety on Liam’s face and knew it mirrored my own.  It was the newness of it all.  For the first time in five years we were at a new school, a place we didn’t know, with people who didn’t know us.  And because we were jumping in a year later it felt like everyone else knew the drill but us.  

Liam and I found the 1H line.  I tried to step back, to let him stand in line with the other kids alone but he reached out for my hand, a panicked look in his eyes.  And so I stood next to him as his eyes darted around.  I could practically see the fear and anxiety levels rising in him and his brain tried desperately to figure out what was happening, what he could expect, what he needed to know.  

I thought about how anxious Tommy got at the zoo on Sunday when I asked him to refill our zoo cup at an unfamiliar location, recognizing how similar Liam is in new settings.  I knelt down and told him not to worry, it was everyone’s first day and no one knew exactly what was going to happen next.  The teachers would tell him what to do and where to go.  He started blinking back tears then, and I knew my words had touched on a point of anxiety for him.

His attempts to fight the tears that were threatening to push through was all it took to pull my own out.  And there we were, blinking back tears, desperate to appear as though we were not about to lose it in this crowd of moms and kids all more ready for the first day of school than we were.

I wanted to shout, “I’m not a crazy over-protective mom!  This is not a normal first day of school for us!  This is a BIG deal!”  But again, I couldn’t quite articulate in my own heart why this felt like such a big deal.  

But it did feel new and scary and big.  He felt like a pioneer, charting new territory: the first deaf kid the school had ever had.  Would the kids be nice?  Would the teachers know what to do?  Would he feel all alone and lost, unable to advocate for himself?

Rationally I knew the kids would be so kind, some already were.  I knew there would be a learning curve with the teachers but that they also wanted to do right by him.  Because he was the only one with hearing loss they weren’t going to let him fall through the cracks.  And I knew his old school had done everything, and I mean everything, to prepare him for this moment, for the moments to come when he’d need to advocate for himself.  He was ready.  And I was too.  We just didn’t know it yet.

And so, with tears in both our eyes and hugs and whispers that it was going to be awesome, that he was going to be awesome, his teacher led his class into the school and I watched him go.  I walked off by myself and let the tears fall freely, calling Tommy to unload my anxiety about our boy.

By 3:30 we were all more than ready to see Liam.  Tommy had come home early and we stood, double stroller filled with little sisters, waiting at door 7.  Liam rushed out, scanning the crowd for my familiar face.  I caught his eye and he came hurdling towards me arms out.  After a big hug that brought both of us much needed relief I asked him how his first day of first grade went.  And he said, “It was awesome!”  

Which was all I needed to hear.  We survived our first day.  And it was awesome.