When I was twenty-seven years-old, I had my first baby. When he was two years-old, I decided to take him to a mother's day-out. I had trepidation because I knew that no one loved him like I did. I dropped him off anyway because all the mothers did it. He cried.and.cried. I went out to run errands thinking about nothing but him the entire two hours I was away.
Anxiously, I parked the car when I returned, walked up the daycare stairs, wondering how my sweet little baby boy had faired without me. There was a door with a small round window in the middle like something in a restaurant kitchen. I looked inside the window which was about as tall as I was. As I looked around the room there were about twenty highchairs lined up. I was looking for my baby in the lineup. I found him. He was around seventh from the left of the twenty in the highchair parade. He looked vacant. Sad. Lost. Alone. I had never seen him look this way, and it was an earth-shattering, life-changing moment.
As I looked inside the round window his eyes met mine, and it was at that moment that I realized that I would never leave him (or any of my babies) in public daycare again. He raised is arms up to me as to say..."where have you been?... I love you so much... you are the love of my life, Mommy... please get me the hell out of here now."
I did. I never looked back.
If I had been a single mother, my choice may have been different out of necessity. I am the mother of a two income family who lived with one income because of this experience. I was broke, lived within a very small budget and rarely had anything for myself even though I had three more babies. I don't live with one regret having made this decision. It was all due to that one afternoon.
A decision. The right one for me.
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