The house has been quiet for 2 and a half hours now. My tears have been shed, my tea has been drunk and I am finally composed enough to record the significant event known as my baby boy starting school.
I have been tempted to call and see how he is doing. But I need to think back only to yesterday and the many signs that all will be ok. I need to trust my boy. I need to trust the school and his teacher. I need to trust God.
Yesterday the school called. I had truly hoped they would as I had left a message on thier answer machine. The teachers were in two days before the pupils started but they never called on Monday. I was beginning to doubt. The transition to school had not been good enough for my boy. They sent out pictures of his new teacher and assistants. His taxi driver and escort came to visit. His new speech therapist came to visit too. But none of this was concrete enough for Isaac and he wasn’t looking at the pictures. He wasn’t transferring the fact he had seen someone at home to seeing them in school. He really needed to meet his teacher, assistants and see his classroom. The same way other children need to try on thier new school uniform to make sure it fits.
I had left a message for the school but I had to trust them. And then they called. We could go and meet his techer and all the other staff in his room at the end of the last teacher training day. In a school that teaches children with a huge variety of complex medical and developmental issues thier training that very day had been on autsim! Once again God was going before us preparing the staff for my sons arrival.
Isaac loved the room. There were windows he could look out of, door frames to run under and look up at and plastic food to chew. The staff were fab with him and 15 minutes in the classroom was enough to settle my heart and settle his twin sisters heart too. And breathe…
Then the head teacher handed me a bag of brand new school uniform. “This is Isaac’s” she said. We told them there had been a mistake. We had ordered and paid for his uniform before the holidays. They checked thier records. No mistake. No confusion. Someone had ordered and paid for three school jumpers and three school polo shirts the exact size my boy needed. The school have no record of who did this. It was’t family or friends. I believe God was letting me know all would be OK. He was preparing the way for us. Over £50 of school uniform gifted to us by an anonomous donor. That is God!
We kept the kids busy yesterday. And by 8;30pm, by some miracle of God once again, they were both sound asleep. Bags ready, clothes prepared and prayers all said. One final goodnight kiss to my baby boy before he became a big school boy. One final goodnight kiss to my baby girl before she prepared to go to nursery without her brother.
the bags all ready.
The kids woke up in plenty time. There was no crying, no grumping or arguing and Isaac even laid down himself to get his nappy changed and get dressed. We were all outside waiting by 8am. Thankful for a dry morning. The nursery bus was due first and we were concerned at how Isaac would react to the bus coming and he wasn’t getting on. Trust, Miriam, Trust.
The taxi came first! Followed just minutes later by the bus. My boy walked beside his daddy to the end of the street for the taxi.
he climbed into the taxi like he had always done it, even though it was his first time.
We waved goodbye to our children. Only one waved back. Then dad and mum jumped into the car. We knew God had brought both the taxi and the bus together for a reason. Our hearts desire was to see our boy walk into that school building like all mums and dads want to see when thier child starts school. The logistics of that seemed impossible for us though. His school was no less than 13 miles away! Would it even be possible to follow a taxi that far? As soon as the taxi arrived he was to be taken straight into the building and handed over to staff. We could drive all that way and miss him.
Trust Miriam, trust.
We never got more than 3 cars apart from his taxi all the way there. If the taxi had green traffic lights, so did we. And though it would have been very unsettling for Isaac to have seen us, I did manage to get a picture from a distance:
And I am trusting him. Trusting that he will enjoy his day. Trusting that he will cope with all the changes. Trusting he will enjoy his school dinner. Trusting that one day he will be able to share some of his day with me. He still can’t talk. But I trust he will.
Naomi is due home any minute. I can’t wait to see my baby girl again.
Another 4 hours to go until I get to see Isaac. Trust, Miriam, Trust.
God has it all under control.