I Never Thought I'd Choose Daycare as a SAHM

If you had told me three months ago that I'd be enrolling my 15-month-old son in a full-time daycare program that costs nearly $20,000 a year, I would have laughed in your face. My husband and I were firmly against daycare from the moment we found out I was pregnant. We were convinced that the best thing for our child was to be with his mother all day, every day. I was going to be the perfect Stay-at-Home Mom (SAHM), and he would thrive under my care.

But let me tell you something—I’m burnt out. No, scratch that—I’m fried. Motherhood is a marathon, not a sprint, but I’ve been running on empty for months. Being the primary, default parent 24/7 has drained me of every ounce of energy, patience, and mental clarity I once had.

Motherhood Expectations vs. Reality

The reality of being a SAHM has hit me harder than I ever expected. I thought that love and dedication would be enough to carry me through. And let’s be clear—it's not about whether I love my son. I do, more than anything.

But love doesn’t magically create more hours in the day or replenish my energy after a sleepless night. Love doesn’t make the endless cycle of laundry, meals, and diaper changes any easier. It certainly doesn’t replace the adult conversation and intellectual stimulation I used to take for granted.

Lack of Support – Where is My Village?

I thought I’d have more support. I expected my husband to put in the same effort and desire to be there for our son as I do. But while he’s a great dad, the reality is that most of the responsibility falls on me.

He works full-time, and even when he’s home, the mental load of keeping everything together remains squarely on my shoulders. It’s not that he doesn’t care; it’s that the expectation for mothers to bear the brunt of childcare and household management is so deeply ingrained that even the best intentions can fall short.

Then there’s the issue of my parents. I imagined they’d be more involved, that they’d be there to help me navigate this overwhelming new chapter. But life happens, and they have their own challenges, their own routines.

When I reach out for help, I often hear, “Just ask your [somebody else] to do more.” My husband thinks my parents should be more involved, and they think he should do more (or, more accurately, that I should accept my fate). As if I have some magical ability to control other adults…

Isolation & Out of Sync With the Community

Or, “Why don’t you join a moms group?” in a place where I still feel like an outsider. I’ve only lived here a few years, and I haven’t found my footing. I’m in a different chapter of life than anyone around me, which makes me feel even more isolated.

Most people my age around here have middle schoolers and teenagers. They’re working on their second love life post-divorce, not raising a baby with a husband.

Working from home doesn’t help either; it’s a blessing in some ways but also a curse when it comes to meeting people and building a support system.

Overwhelmed by the Unexpected at Every Turn

Motherhood, in theory, is far different from in practice. Before my son was born, I thought the hardest part of raising a baby would be doing all the things I knew I had to do—changing diapers, breastfeeding, and making sure he got enough sleep. But the real challenge has been accommodating his unique needs, which are a moving target every day.

Take feeding, for example. I envisioned pureeing fresh fruits and veggies, giving him the healthiest start possible. What I didn’t anticipate was the battle of getting him to eat anything at all. He’s constantly on the move, too busy exploring the world to sit down for a meal.

So, I’ve resorted to store-bought puree squeeze pouches—not because I’m lazy, but because that’s the only way he’ll eat. It’s just one of the many ways reality has forced me to abandon my idealistic notions of motherhood.

Why Daycare Became the Right Choice

The tipping point? Realizing that by staying home and doing everything myself, I’m not the best version of the mom I want to be. I’m tired, short-tempered, and frankly, not enjoying motherhood the way I thought I would.

Every day feels like an uphill battle, not just against the tasks at hand, but against my own expectations. I wanted to be everything for my son, but I’ve realized that trying to do it all on my own is not just impossible—it’s unsustainable.

That’s when it hit me: I need help. My son deserves more than a burnt-out, exhausted mother. And I deserve to have a little bit of myself back.

What Changed My Mind:

• Realizing the impact of my burnout on my son

• Acknowledging the need for self-care and mental health

• Understanding the benefits of social interaction and structured learning for my son

• Accepting that daycare is not a failure but a practical solution for our family

Embracing a New Perspective

So here I am, sending my child to a toddler program that costs more than some college tuitions. It’s not an easy decision, and it sure as hell wasn’t part of the plan, but it’s the right one for us.

Daycare isn’t the enemy. In fact, it’s the lifeline that will make me a better mother. My son will be in a structured environment, interacting with other kids, learning, and growing in ways I simply can’t provide him with at home. And I’m going to get the mental and emotional space I need to recharge and reclaim parts of myself that have been on the back burner for far too long.

This isn’t about guilt or shame. It’s about being honest with myself and recognizing my limits. It’s about making a choice that benefits both my son and me in the long run. So yes, we’re paying almost $20,000 a year for daycare, and no, it’s not something I ever thought I’d do. But here we are, doing what’s best for our family, not what looks good on Instagram.

To All The Other Moms Struggling With Similar Decisions

You’re not alone. It’s okay to admit that you need help. It’s okay to change your mind about what’s best for your family. And it’s definitely okay to do whatever it takes to be the best version of yourself for your child.

Motherhood isn’t about being perfect; it’s about being present, and sometimes, that means making tough choices like this one.