How can one beating heart bear the pain, the hurt, the emotion, together with the nachas, the joy, the love all at once?

I thought my heart was big.

Big enough to hold every single child in it, big enough to savor their joy, their laughter, their love.

I thought my heart was so flexible, it expanded exponentially each time another child was born.

I thought my heart was accepting, that it could withstand the pain of each challenge, the pain of rejection, the hurt for their hurt.

Tonight, I learned my heart can be broken and then bursting with joy — one following the other, before I can even catch my breath.

The notice came in the mail. End-of-year PTA. A chance to “wrap up” the year, reflect on the progress and growth of our precious children.

Five-minute time slots, back-to-back, neatly printed out on a paper, which I saved on the bookshelf, a reminder on my phone not to miss my call-in time.