First day of daycare. Yes, I cried. 

I was not expecting to cry on the first day of daycare. I didn’t my first day back from work, but then I was leaving Aria on the tummy time mat with DH telling her jokes and holding her hand. 

There was a chorus of crying babies when we got there. We set Aria down on her little lamb bed. When she joined in with the wails of her. compatriots, my heart broke. I picked her up and held her and wiped away her tears. 

I know if we wanted to, I could stay at home with Aria. It would involve a lot of material sacrifices, but we set up our debts and finances so if one of us lost our job, we would make it with just a few adjustments. But beyond forsaking the saving for Aria’s education and our own retirement along with some more immediate material delights, I would be delaying my dreams for working in education. I love what I do and I love what I have the potential to do as I mature in my career. Going to work is right for me. It wasn’t right for my mom, but it’s right for me. 

My sister TJ was how I knew I could still be a great mom and pursue my dreams in education. She does so much with her daughter and her daughter is smart as could be, but TJ is a doctor and ZL is in daycare. 

Anyway. It’s funny how doing what you feel is right can still hurt, because no choice is the perfect choice, it’s usually the best choice or at least the best choice from what we see and know. Perfect choices don’t exist. 

And so I’m here, nursing for my daughter through a mechanical pump. I’m here being a mom and working woman so Aria can be with other children in the best daycare we could find and so I can serve disadvantaged children who will never have all I hope to offer my own daughter. 

It’s good. 

It’s all good!





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