A year ago, I joined the infamous mom of three club. I had no clue how I’d manage being responsible for three tiny humans, but guess what? I did it. And I’m still doing it, day in and day out. Let’s have a quick round of applause for moms everywhere. Being a mom is hard, yet so rewarding, and we must show up no matter what.
Okay, off my soapbox and back to the topic at hand.
Being a full-time working mom is tough. There are daily challenges we face with grace, and we must make the choice to release the weight of mom guilt and embrace the journey. Arranging childcare is one of those challenges. Trusting another person to step in for you while you work is no easy feat. Thankfully, I’ve had the luxury of having my mom care for my sweet babies during the first 15-ish months of their lives while I juggled full-time work. But this month, for the last time, I sent my baby — well, my toddler — off to daycare.
READ: To the Mom Sending Her Child to Daycare for the First Time
So, here I am, writing this with puffy eyes and a heart that feels like it’s been through a blender. My last baby, my sweet, clingy, sunshiny toddler, just started daycare. And let me tell you, I am not okay. Seriously, who knew a drop-off could feel like a breakup?
The Build-Up
Leading up to this monumental day, I kept telling myself it was going to be fine. Heck, I even convinced myself I was looking forward to it. “Think of all the free time you’ll have now,” I’d say, trying to persuade myself everything would be okay. “You’ll get so much done around the house and be able to focus solely on work while working from home,” I’d add. Yeah, right. Instead, I spent the entire night before mentally organizing and reorganizing her things, browsing Pinterest for lunch ideas, and praying that her new teacher would be able to nurture her as I do. Spoiler alert: It didn’t help.
The Big Day
The morning of, I woke up ready to embrace my new reality. My baby, oblivious to the emotional tsunami about to hit, slept in and woke up her usual chirpy self. I forced myself to act normal, which in hindsight was probably more for my benefit than hers. I didn’t want her to pick up on my anxiety, but who was I kidding? Kids are like emotional sponges; they know when something’s up.
Dad was on daycare drop-off duty for her first day, as I had to stay behind with our oldest since school was out and camp didn’t start for another week. My heart was pounding as I wished them safe travels and a great day. I felt like I was handing over a piece of my soul as I reluctantly kissed her goodbye. And there I was, a complete wreck, fighting back tears and trying not to look like a lunatic as I closed the door.
The Aftermath
Once she left, I could feel the tears forming, but I tried my best to stay distracted. I logged on to work and enjoyed my homemade iced coffee, fresh. Inside, I knew she was fine, but that didn’t stop the wave of mom guilt from crashing over me. Was she scared? Did she miss me? Was she wondering why I sent her with strangers?
The Rational Brain vs. The Mom Heart
Logically, I know daycare is a good thing. She’s 15 months and thriving, and daycare is a fantastic place with loving caregivers and tons of activities she wouldn’t get at home. She’ll make friends, learn new things, and become more independent. But my heart was throwing a temper tantrum, refusing to listen to reason.
It didn’t help that every time I tripped over a toy or walked past her room, I felt a pang of loss. The quiet was deafening. For months, my days working from home revolved around her schedule. I strategically planned meetings and work time around her nap time, mealtime, or play times. Without her, I felt adrift, unsure of what to do with myself.
Finding My New Normal
To ease my guilt, I decided to give her teacher a call to see how she was doing. Surprisingly, she was enjoying herself and exploring her new surroundings. She hadn’t even cried once. That helped ease things, and I decided I needed to find a way to cope. I spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying the quiet time and focusing on work and household duties. I also reassured myself that I had been through this before and had gotten through it. It was okay to feel this way and that it would get better.
The Silver Lining
Slowly, I started to see the positives. For one, I had time to focus on myself again. I could take a Pilates class on my lunch break. I could attend a meeting without a mini meltdown. I even had the luxury of uninterrupted meals, a rarity in the toddler years. More importantly, I noticed changes in my little one just after day one. She was blossoming. Seeing her confidence continue to grow will help her become more independent each day. Seeing her happy made it a little easier to let go.
Embracing the Change
Transitioning from being a full-time working mom with a child in tow to having all three of my children away, either in school or daycare, is a big deal. It’s an emotional rollercoaster filled with highs and lows. But it’s also a time of growth — for all of us.
I’ve learned to appreciate the moments we do have together even more. The afternoons are now filled with snuggles, stories, and laughter. This will help me become more intentional about being present, soaking up every second. The time apart makes our time together that much sweeter.
Final Daycare Thoughts
If you’re going through this, know that it’s okay to feel all the feels. It’s okay to cry, to miss them, to worry. But also know that it’s a step toward their independence and your own. It’s a sign that they’re growing up, which, as bittersweet as it is, is exactly what they’re supposed to do.
So, to all the working moms out there, juggling the heartache and the newfound freedom, you’re not alone. We’re all in this together, navigating this crazy, beautiful journey called parenthood. Hang in there. It does get better. And remember, it’s okay not to be okay.