Another step toward normal

So, today was the last weekday before I return to work after about six weeks of absence.  Thank God I was blessed with the ability to teach;  it won't be the return to "the grind" that will cause me any anxiety but the daily questions of "where will today take Josh?"  At best, this will be a welcome return to a normalcy that somehow manages to help me cope.  Yet, I feel like a new Mom again.  You know, that feeling of "God, I hope this is what I'm supposed to do at this point..." The feeling that a Mom has when she watches her baby boy stand and suddenly let go of that sturdy end table for the first time...the moment that takes your breath away so suddenly and leaves you with an emotion that will stay with you forever. 
This morning, we attended an appointment with one of the high school counselors;  a few weeks ago, Josh had expressed an interest in returning to school (something that took my completely off guard but pleased me to no end).  Josh's biggest issue is the anxiety that social situations cause him - particularly peer-related situations where he stands the possibility of being judged by others.  Ever since the years of incessant bullying, Josh has a very fragile heart that falls and breaks, again and again, with every hurtful rejection.  However, this newest development is a healthy one - a hint that he very possibly has come to see his last year of adolescence as his last chance at normalcy, and this new clarity of mind as the new light at the end of the tunnel. 
On the outside of this aging shell, I visited with the counselor with my Mom face on - insisting that this decision be made in the best interest of Josh.  I smiled, I laughed, I assisted in the search for all possibilities.  We were delighted to discover that many students in our area actually opt for a more part-time approach to public education - attending 3, 2, or even only 1 class in the brick and mortar institution while continuing in other capacities with outlets such as homeschooling and virtual academies. This is encouraging - and such a wonderful opportunity for Josh to continue his baby steps toward a semi-normal life.
On the inside, however, I am terrified.  As much as I would like to believe that the majority of the students still in high school have grown and matured beyond the year when hell was visited upon us, I know better.  Yet, I can do nothing more than what I have been doing for over two years now:  hope. I can hope that Josh is truly ready and that, if he isn't ready, he is at least capable of dealing with the inevitable head on, putting his faith in the months of hard work he has put into this one moment.  We will hope that the medicines we have come to rely on to tell us what we know or don't know will hold strong at the moment that he really needs it.
When I go to bed tonight, I'm sure that I will toss and turn for hours before finally giving in to sleep.  I'm already exhausted at the possibility, but it is something I have become accustomed to.  It seems that we have moved on to yet another step forward in this process - a step that, as a Mom, I have no choice but to allow, just like I allowed that first step my baby boy took so many years ago when he finally let go of that end table and took on the world.