For various reasons, I’ve decided that I’m going to go back to work before summer. I had hoped to start back the week before school breaks up, and spend the week mostly catching up on everything. It doesn’t look like that will happen, but it should be a light week for teaching anyway, and I’ll go in before then to get what I need to plan my lessons.
Part of me is terrified, and part of me is feeling eager to get back to things. I’m worried mostly that if I’m not pregnant again soon, if there isn’t something to give us hope, then I’ll struggle back at work. Although I’ve felt a little more positive yesterday and today, than I have for about the last fortnight, I’m worried that I’m on my way down the coarse road I took the last time, where after the first few months, I started to get less and less hopeful, and more and more angry. It’s like my emotional scales start to swing irrevocably downward on the negative side, leaving the little brass cups for my happiness, pretty much empty. I’m worried that I’ll end up exhausting all of my positive energy in one place, either at home or at work, and then have none left for the other; so either Sam gets a raw deal and he gets to spend time with an unsmiling, irritable wife, or my colleagues and students get a cantankerous, prickly teacher. And no one likes those. Maybe I’ll be lucky, but already, my hope is beginning to dwindle: ‘lucky’ isn’t how I would describe myself recently.
Tomorrow I have the school prom. I’ve found something to wear, (thank you so much to my friend Helen, who posted me two dresses to try) though it isn’t very ‘prommy’. I won’t be staying too late anyway as Sam and I are heading off to the Outer Hebrides to see some of my family very early on Saturday morning.
I’m looking forward to seeing some of my colleagues and I hope that it’ll help with my return to work that I’ve seen some of them already. I only wish I wasn’t driving – attending social events sober is something I’ve never been good at, especially not in the position I’m in, where a little (or a lot of) Dutch courage would help.
Hopefully, time away at my parents’ house will help me to relax before going back to work; my mum is brilliant, and I’m sure that my beautiful, hilarious, edible niece, Matilda, will put a smile on my face, if nothing else works.