The day we dropped our daughter off at daycare for the first time started like all the other days of her 11 months of life. A diaper change, breastfeeding with happy smiles and babbles, putting her into whatever clean outfit I could find in her dresser. However, instead of settling in for a day of hanging out, my husband and I loaded her into the car and drove 20 minutes to the home of a lady we had just met two days before. I cried the entire way, pointedly not turning back to chat and wave at her like I normally would to avoid freaking her out. My husband ultimately had to be the one to bring her up to the door, because I couldn’t speak a word without sobbing. I watched from the passenger seat as my husband handed our only child over to a stranger.
More Than Just a Daycare Drop-Off
Like many young families these days, my husband and I didn’t have the financial freedom to go down to being a one-income household; daycare was an eventuality of life from the moment our little one was born. I had hoped I could make it work to keep her home with me for a while, since I was fortunate enough to have a work from home job. However, after two days of balancing Zoom calls with a constantly-wiggling toddler, I knew I was fighting a lost cause. The moment that realization hit, I was weighed down with the feeling many mothers know too well: guilt.
Before that day, I’d experienced mom guilt pretty much every day of my daughter’s life. I second guessed all of my choices, wondering if I was doing enough to show her how much I love her. Could she tell, at 3 months old, that I would get bored of watching her do tummy time? I should’ve been embracing those moments more, they passed so quickly. Was my anxiety around her eating solid foods holding her back? Would she be mocked at school because she ate only purees until she was a year old? My feelings of inadequacy coloured so many of those first months. Daycare guilt fit in seamlessly to my routine of self-doubt, and came with a layered realization: not only was I worried that I was letting my child down by handing her off so I could go to work, I was also worried that I’d miss so many special moments by not being with her all the time. And, of course, an even deeper, darker fear: was I a horrible mother for enjoying the quiet moments I got at home to focus while she was away from me?
What Daycare Guilt Revealed About Me
Aside from the physical separation, the hardest part of daycare was accepting that being apart during the workday was the best thing for both myself and my baby. To excel in my professional life and support my family, I need to be able to give 100% at work. I can’t give my whole focus to my job with my little girl around needing me to give my whole focus to her. I had to accept that I couldn’t live up to the impossible ideal I had set for myself, and reckon with the fact that I am one person with only so much to give. And it’s okay to say that- asking for help doesn’t make me a failure of a mom. The daycare guilt made me realize that constantly being hard on myself doesn’t make me a better mother; being kind and gracious to myself does more for my child than agonizing over every possible wrong move ever could.
I would also find myself time traveling to a future that may or may not come to pass, one where I watch my daughter going through the same journey that I did. I would imagine her opening up to me about her feelings of not being good enough, of guilt for wanting to find success and joy outside of just being a mom. And in every hypothetical scenario, I always wrapped her in my arms and told her she was allowed to find happiness in more than one single identity. It felt silly in the moment sometimes, but I would be lying if I said it wasn’t effective. I was finally able to rationalize that I was being my own harshest critic.
The Journey to Acceptance Isn’t Linear
I made it through the first week, and cried considerably more than she did at every drop off. Slowly, it got easier. I watched her bond with the wonderful woman who ran the home daycare she went to. I got photos of her giggling with her little friends, doing arts and crafts, and bundled up in snow gear sent to me almost every day. I also began seeing a positive side for my baby, too. Being in an environment where she socializes with other kids her age can only benefit her in the long run, and it’s definitely more fun than sitting in a Pack n’ Play watching mama type. 3 years later, I still have days where I struggle. Some mornings I can’t wait until I’m in the car after drop off with a day full of hot coffee and focus ahead of me. Others, I agonize over the fact that she suddenly looks taller and says the R in her name properly and how could I miss that? On the days where it feels harder, I think back to how far I’ve come since that first drop off, where I couldn’t even make it out of the car. If I’m lucky, my parenting path will be long, winding, and often very bumpy. To enjoy the journey, acceptance is a much better companion than guilt.
If you have resonated at all with this, please know that you aren’t alone, and that doing your best is more than enough. If you’re looking for a compassionate ear, Vent Over Tea offers active listening sessions where you can talk through life’s challenges- parenting or otherwise- in a safe, welcoming environment.
