Patch them up

School has started and so has "the busy."  New students, new schedule, new curriculum, new grade, new house, new everything it seems. School has started and each day almost as I pull into the driveway since we moved a butterfly flutters over or next to my car. I've barely had time to be prepared for work much less have time to be down. "Down."  Down time, down emotionally, even sitting down. I'm exhausted. 

Today in my "focus" which is a class in which i am meant to be a support for my 9th grade students I did a question and answer session. We did a back and forth. I asked a question and they answered. They asked a question and I answered. 2nd question to come up for me:  how many kids do you have?  Three was my automatic answer. Three was the number that came out of my mouth. And then... Then they wanted to know how old they were. 9, 3, and angel?  9, 3, and stillborn?  How the hell do you answer that?  And as always I was honest with them. 9. 3. And I had a stillborn baby a year and a half ago. Damn it. I had her. She counts. So... They get a lesson I guess. Not all babies live?  Their English teacher  is honest?  I don't know. But it didn't phase them. They didn't even skip a beat. And that makes me sad too. What must have happened? Who must they have lost to take the news of a stillborn baby in stride. I wish I could patch them up inside. 

My soul is sad today.